Cameron closed the gap between us and pressed his forehead to mine. “You didn’t. You haven’t.”
Having him so close after the rawness of the morning was a balm to my soul. It felt as though my body stopped vibrating with held-in panic. Cameron put his arms around me and I leaned into him, allowing myself to be held instead of hovering on the edge of escape. His hand was warm and steady between my shoulder blades, his thumb stroking in slow, reassuring circles.
“You don’t have to perform,” he murmured. “You don’t have to lead. You don’t have to be anything but here.”
I swallowed. “That’s new.”
I felt rather than heard his chuckle. “I know.” He paused. “Can we continue this conversation in the bedroom? Because right now I have this urge to be as close to you as I can get, and that doesn’t involve clothes.”
My heartbeat raced.
“There’s something I need to ask you.” It was easier when I couldn’t see his face.
Cameron stilled. “Okay.”
I let out my breath in a long exhale, searching for the right words.
“I’ve spent most of my adult life being in control. In music, in my work, even in sex.” I huffed. “Especially in sex.”
Cameron didn’t interrupt.
“It wasn’t always a choice,” I continued, “but it became a rule. If I stayed quiet, if I stayed composed, if I stayed on top of things—literally and otherwise—I didn’t have to feel exposed.” I stroked his neck, his shoulder. “I learned how to give pleasure without asking for it back. How to be present without letting go. And for a long time, I told myself that was enough.”
“But it isn’t anymore.”
I looked at him then. “No, it isn’t.” Another slow intake of breath. “Now I want to feel what happens when I stop holding everything together.”
Cameron’s breathing caught, but he didn’t move.
I cupped his chin. “I’m asking because I trust you. Because with you, letting go doesn’t feel like losing myself.” Another pause. “It feels like coming home.”
Cameron’s eyes glistened. “Are you sure?”
I nodded without hesitation. “I’m not asking because I think I should, but because I want to.”
Cameron’s face glowed. “Then let me take care of you.”
He took me by the hand and led me into the bedroom. He gave me a gentle push, and I ended up on my back. Cameron stretched out next to me, and we kissed, a constant stream of leisurely intimate kisses. Clothes fell away gradually, deliberately, Cameron’s fingers unbuttoning my shirt one slow inch at a time, kissing each piece of skin he revealed. His fingers traced patterns over my ribs, exploratory but not demanding. And when he pressed a kiss above my heart, I let go.
I allowed myself to feel.
Then Cameron slid down my body, licking a warm stripe over my stomach, making me moan, loud and unrestrained.
Cameron lifted his head, his eyes bright. “That’s it. I want to hear every sound you make.” He took the head of my stiffening cock into his mouth, and my moan turned involuntary as he worshipped me with lips and tongue, slow and purposeful, until I was shaking, twisting my fingers in the sheets.
When Cameron crawled up my body and settled his weight on me, I gasped when his solid dick slid over mine.
“Tell me what you want,” he whispered.
I swallowed. “You. All of you.”
He kissed me. “Then I’m yours.” He slid his hand down my thigh, coaxing my legs apart. I exhaled sharply, and he kissed meagain. “I’ll take care of you.” He reached into the bedside drawer for the lube, and I held my breath. He brushed slick fingers over my hole, and each movement sent sparks jolting through me.
“Cameron—”
“I’ve got you,” he murmured, kissing along my throat as he prepped me gently.
Lovingly.