And I did. I moaned, loud, helpless, and wrecked, and Cameron kissed the sound right out of my mouth. Then he guided my cock to his hole and slowly sank down onto it.
This wasn’t a fuck—this was Cameron making love to me, worshipfully, with hands and mouth and whispered promises, guiding me through every wave of pleasure and fear and release. He rolled his hips, and I held him there, helping him to impale himself over and over, loving the hoarse cries that tumbled from his lips.
My own cries filled my ears, and when I came, it was with a sound I’d never let another person hear, raw and broken.
Cameron kissed me through it. “That’s beautiful. I’ve got you.” More kisses. “I’ve got you.” My cock still buried in him, still throbbing. “I’ve got you.” Then he let out a lingering groan as he shot, warmth spattering my chest, his body racked by judders.
We collapsed together, breathless and shaking, and I pressed my face into Cameron’s neck.
“Was that okay?” My words were an echo of his from our game night.
Cameron laughed, and it sounded incredulous, awed, tender.
“Theo,” he murmured, kissing my forehead. “That was everything.”
I believed him.
I wasn’t sure how we got to the Dove.
One moment, Cameron had been in the shower, singing, and the next he’d appeared in his towel, a tantalising sight that made me want to head straight back to bed.
“We should go out. Like… out-out. Together.”
“Like… a date?”
“Exactly like a date.”
I’d said yes before overthinking could save me.
The Dove was a pub by the river,thebest place to watch the boat race from. Inside, everywhere was the gleam of varnished wood. A roaring fire burned in the fireplace, set into a brick chimney breast. We ate fish and chips and drank beer.
As first dates went, it was… different.
Cameron looked beautiful without even trying. He hadn’t dressed up, but had gone with jeans and a blue sweater that matched his eyes. His hair looked artfully unruly as usual.
The sight was enough to make it difficult for me to breathe.
“Are you nervous?” he asked.
“No,” I lied instantly.
Cameron smiled. “Okay,I’mnervous, so you’re not allowed to be perfect.”
I blinked. “I’m not?—”
He cut me off with a grin. “Theo. You radiate intensity like other people radiate body heat.”
I opened my mouth, then closed it.
Cameron bumped our shoulders together. “That wasn’t a complaint.”
We’d got a corner table. It was private, quiet—intimate.
Cameron had ordered the food because my brain had refused to choose anything.
I watched his hands, the curve of his smile, the way he talked to the bartender as though he genuinely liked people. When he came back to the table, I sought for the right words.
“How are you this easy with strangers?”