Page 10

Camille

“You shouldn’t be out here,” he mutters, his voice rough and distant.

“I shouldn’t be out here?” I repeat, the anger bubbling to the surface again. “You’re the one who ran off after—”

“After what?” he challenges, his voice low and steady, but there’s a crack in it, a tension that betrays his control.

My heart pounds in my chest, my breath coming faster as I take another step toward him. “After you kissed me,” I say, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. “After you kissed me like it meant something and then ran away like it didn’t.”

He doesn’t respond immediately, his jaw tightening as he stares at me. The rain clings to his face, his hair dripping, his shirt plastered to his chest. I can see every muscle in his body tensed as though he’s holding himself back from something.

“You don’t understand,” he says finally, his voice quieter now, almost pleading.

“Then make me understand,” I say, stepping closer until there’s barely any space left between us. My voice softens as I look up at him, my anger fading into something more vulnerable. “Stop pushing me away, Diego. It doesn’t need to mean anything, it can be just sex.”

“It can’t,” he murmurs, his eyes searching mine. “I see it in your eyes, Camille. You are not the kind of woman who does just sex. We both know this, so don’t act like you don’t know what I am talking about either. It can’t be just sex.”

“Yes it can,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “I can do just sex, Diego. I did it before and we were fine.”

He closes his eyes briefly, his breath hitching as though he’s fighting some internal battle. When he opens them again, the raw intensity in his gaze makes my chest tighten.

“I can’t give you what you want, Camille,” he says, his voice strained. “I can’t be what you need.”

“You don’t get to decide that for me,” I say, my voice firm despite the ache in my throat.

The words hang in the air between us, heavy and charged. I can see the conflict in his eyes.

“Damn it, Camille,” he growls, his voice barely audible over the sound of the rain. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me.”

“Then stop fighting it,” I say, stepping even closer until we’re inches apart.

The world goes still, the storm fading into the background as the emotion between us reaches its breaking point. I can feel the heat of his breath on my skin, the warmth of his body radiating despite the cold rain.

And then, suddenly, he’s moving.

His hands grip my face, his fingers threading through my rain-soaked hair as his lips crash against mine. The kiss is fierce, desperate, filled with everything he’s been holding back. I gasp against him, my hands clutching at his shirt as he pulls me closer, his body pressing against mine.

The rain falls harder, soaking us both on the porch, but I don’t care. All I can feel is him—the strength of his arms around me, the heat of his lips, the way he kisses me like he’s drowning and I’m the only thing keeping him afloat.

I kiss him back with equal fervor, my fingers curling into his shirt as if I can anchor myself to him. The porch fades away, the storm fades away, and it’s just us.

When we finally pull apart, we’re both breathing hard, our foreheads resting against each other as the rain continues to pour. His hands linger on my face, his thumbs brushing against my cheeks as he stares at me with an intensity that makes my heart ache.

“This is a mistake,” he whispers, his voice rough and filled with conflict.

“Maybe,” I whisper. “But it’s our mistake to make.”

He doesn’t respond, his eyes searching mine as though he’s trying to decide whether to pull me closer or push me away again.

“Come take a shower with me.” The words slip from my lips on their own accord.

He cocks his eyebrow. “A shower?”

I bite down on my lip before I respond. “Look, we both know that we want this. We both know that we are attracted to each other. We are in this high pressure situation basically fighting for our lives. The least we can do is enjoy an orgasm or two. I really don’t see the harm in that.”

I cannot believe the words that leave my mouth, but it doesn’t make them any less true. I have been starved for that feeling of a good toe-curling orgasm and this man has taken me to Jupiter and back. There is nothing quite like what he can do. He has ruined me. And while I still have access to him, I will make sure that I get to experience him over and over again wherever I can.

He stares at me, his eyes filled with heat and passion. But I see the resistance, and for a moment I think that he is going to pull away and leave me standing alone. Until he pulls me toward him with such force that we collide with each other, his mouth searing mine.

Inside the bathroom, we strip each other bare until we stand before each other naked. With clothes littered on the floor and a shower pouring water, we stare at each other. The air thickens with each ticking second until finally something snaps and we smash into each other. Our teeth knock as we come together in a thick mess of flesh, wetness and greed.

We enter into the shower, our bodies molded against each other and our tongues fighting for dominance. I reach in between us and feel for his length. It is hard as a rock and the thickness of it makes all the blood in my system rush to my pussy. I ache as I feel his heavy dick.

I pump him with my hand, feeling his dick twitch from my movements. He groans into my mouth. His body tenses and I am almost certain that he is about to come but then he rips his lips away harshly. He leans his forehead against mine, heaving hard as he tries to refocus.

“No can do, Camille. You don’t get to end this all early.” He smirks. “My turn.”

He takes the shower head and turns it onto its highest setting and presses it on my clit. I arch my back off the tiles and toward him.

“Jesus,” I scream into the bathroom. “Yes!”

“I am no biblical deity, Camille.” He chuckles against my neck. “But I will be whatever you need me to be, baby, just as long as I get to fuck this sweet pussy into oblivion.”

The man presses the high pressure water against my clit and I scream. He covers my mouth with his hand.

“Fuck me,” I say against his hand.

I dig my nails into his shoulders and all of my senses go wild. I want him even closer. I need him inside of my skin if possible. This man is unlike anything I have experienced in my entire life. He is otherworldly.

Just as I feel myself drawing closer and closer to my climax, he rips the shower head from my pussy and moves his hand down to my neck. And he grabs me tightly. He forces me to look his way. His eyes are hot with passion. Fuck me. His dick pokes against my thigh and I feel the passion rage through my body. He places the shower head back onto the handle and it continues to pelt down on us.

My pussy throbs, longing for his attention. I don’t want his fingers or his mouth, I need his cock.

“You are so fucking beautiful, it hurts, Camille.” His eyes move over my face. “I could fuck you from dusk till dawn if you would allow me.”

My heart lurches in my chest. I push it down, not wanting it to confuse what this is. This is sex, raw, unbridled sex, and what we are doing is nothing more than a human desire. I can't allow myself to get ahead of myself.

No emotions in this. That is the rule here.

I reach to kiss him but he pulls away.

“No kissing, more fucking.”

Without warning, he turns me around to face the glass of the shower and presses the front of my body there. I press my palms against the cool glass and I am remembering the first time we ever fucked. The way he had plowed into me while I watched the passersby oblivious to the fact that some man was ripping apart my pussy.

I can feel my pussy throbbing. I can feel my skin aching and yearning for the touch of his tip. I want to feel his girth rip me open and rearrange me in ways that only he has ever been capable of.

He moves his length up and down my pussy from behind as if he heard my internal thoughts. My wetness coats him almost instantly. I hear him try to stifle his groan as I push back on him, wanting to feel him even more.

“Behave.”

The command was supposed to come out far more forceful, but he is breathless. He is just as affected by me as I am by him. Oddly, that gives me some strange sense of comfort.

“I want to savor this,” he continues.

I spin in his hold, my back now against the glass. “And I want to fuck right now. So either give me your dick or you can—shit!”

I let out a sharp hiss as he lifts my leg so it sits on his hip and splits me in two. My head falls onto the glass and we both let out moans. He fills me, making sure to claim every last inch of my body. There is not a part of me that this man doesn’t affect.

He pulls out suddenly before he rams into my tight pussy, filling me yet again. My entire body jerks off the glass when the wave of passion fills me.

“Oh fuck!” My screams echo in the bathroom. Thank God we are in the middle of nowhere right now or I would have given us away. “You're so fucking big!”

“You flatter me.” He pumps into me again.

He grips my thigh and rams into me so hard that I fear my back may crack the glass. I dig my nails into his shoulders and feel him claim every inch of my body. There is no part of me that he does not own.

I am his. If it wasn’t clear before, it is crystal clear now. There will never be another who can make me feel the way that he does. He has ruined me and I’m not even mad about it.

Our bodies are so in sync. When he moves, I move, and we collide in the most rhythmic and catastrophic way, just like before. It is this dance that only the two of us know. This rough push and pull like the waves.

“Oh yes,” I can feel the sensation building in my body. “Your dick is made for me, Diego. Fuck, it's mine.”

I have never been a possessive woman but I fear that he brings it out of me with the way he holds me and caresses me so sweetly. I have never felt desirable in my life. Have I gone mad?

“You dirty little whore!” he growls. “You take dick like a good little sex addict, is that what you are? Are you addicted to my dick?”

I want to say yes but the man doesn’t relent and plows into me. Thrust after thrust, he fills me to the very brim until I can feel the edge drawing closer. Our moans mingle together, the water acting like a coolant as our bodies collide.

“I’m going to…” My words are stolen by his lips and the pace of his assault increases. “Diego!”

He reaches between us and pinches my clit. I scream into his mouth.

Fuck. There will never be another man who will ever be able to get me going like this man can.

One thrust… two thrust… three thrust…

“Shit!”

“Fuck!”

We both reach our climax and our worlds collide with each other as he empties into me. I dig my nails into his skin and bite down on his bottom lip.

We ride out our orgasms, allowing it all to move through our systems. The thick cloud of lust and passion blankets us and we are left in this daze where the rest of the world has faded away and all that remains is the two of us.

He lowers my leg and allows me to rest my back on the glass of the shower. He turns off the water and then cups my face in his large hand, pulling me closer to him. My body instantly melts into him, and all I can feel are the little butterflies that fill my chest.

Oh no. That is not a good sign.

I make a move out of his hold. My pussy aches from our collision, and we need to dry off. But before I can move out of his grip, he stops me.

“We need to get out and dry off,” I say.

“We can do that, but just know that for tonight, I am not done with you, Camille. We are just getting started, so you can have a breather for now but I want your ass in the bed in 10 minutes so I can devour your pussy.”

He pulls me toward him again and my entire body melts into him. The ache in my pussy flares up.

I am hungry for him all over again. I don’t think there will ever come a time when I am not insatiable for this man. And that is where the true danger lies because when all of this is said and done, I will need to be able to walk away intact, and I fear this pull I feel toward him will ruin certain parts of me.