Page 62 of My Sweetest Agony

And he slides a finger inside me as his thumb circles the apex of my thighs.

A gasp tumbles from my open mouth, and he captures it with another kiss, one that robs me of my breath and any semblance of control I may have maintained up until this moment.

My legs start shaking as he continues to devour me like I’m providing him with oxygen, giving and taking as I come apart completely. The orgasm slams into me so hard my vision goes dark before I see bright stars flashing across my lids.

My body jerks against his.

My hands tighten in his hair, tugging him closer as my mouth falls open on a strangled cry.

My pussy clenches his fingers as he continues to pump them up into me and circle and glide his thumb across my clit, dragging out my pleasure so long that my lungs start to burn from the lack of air getting to them.

Cam moves under me, his cock pinned beneath where his hand is shoved into my jeans. He groans, heavy and low, his hips jerking wildly, lips frantically seeking mine out to capture the last of my gasps, until I finally float down, and he sags back against the couch.

His hand still cups my core.

His fingers stay buried inside me.

He stills, and I collapse onto him.

A sob of relief falls from my lips but quickly morphs as something wrenches from deep in my chest.

Sorrow.

Anger.

I unleash it all along with the tears I didn’t know I had left.

They coat his skin as I bury my face into his neck, and he pulls his hand free of my body and tugs me up against him fully, holding me to him as his tears join mine, and we both completely fall apart.

17

CAM

I’m sorry.

18

IVY

“Are you not hungry?” Nancy’s voice pulls my focus from pushing my food around on my plate, and I jerk my head up and meet her concerned blue gaze that matches that of both her sons.

I force a smile, clearing my throat to relieve the tension there. “I’m sorry.”

The same two words I found scrawled on the Post-it on the coffee table when I woke on the couch this morning. Covered in the same blanket Cam draped across me that first night. His scent still clinging to me and the taste of his kiss lingering on my lips and tongue.

Maybe that’s why I can’t eat anything.

Or maybe it’s because the woman across the table from me has come to know me so well over the past several years, has become like a mother to me in the absence of my own, and I hate lying to her.

Not just about the fact that Cam is here in town, but about what happened with him last night.

If she knew…

God…

I cringe thinking about her reaction.

Even I can’t fathom how or why it happened, and I was there. I was a very willing participant. And yet, I can’t process it. I can’t get my head around what I did. What we did.