39. Daphne

Chapter 39

Daphne

February 11

Lyndhurst FC’s Cameron Hastings Seen at a Club with Influencer Daphne Quinn

It’s Sunday night. The front door clicks open, which means Cameron just got back from his away game. I sit on the floor of the bedroom, braiding my hair in front of the floor-length mirror.

“Hey, sweet girl,” he says, dropping his stuff by the door and lying down on the bed.

I smile. “Sven’s header in your box was one for the books today.”

“Wasn’t it? Glad he had my back during that penalty kick.” He stretches and rolls over to my side of the bed, noticing a crimson-red book on my nightstand. Oh crap!

“ Naughty Knots ?” He reads the title and reaches for it. “What’s this?”

“Wait!” I bolt up, lunging across the room and yanking the pages out of his hand. “I thought it was a knitting book…” The book disappears behind my back. My blue knitted nightgown is working overtime, trying to mask the spine.

His brow quirks up with curiosity. “And?”

I blush. “I was sorely mistaken.”

“Interesting.” He props his head up with his palm, smirking. “Let me see it, Daphne,” he says sternly.

Flush spreads across my chest and collarbones. “No.”

He reaches around me, attempting to grab it, but I leap back.

A spark lights up in his eyes. That was totally the wrong move. He loves it when I toy with him. Cameron stands, towering over me. Shrinking beneath his gaze, I toss on my most innocent look and flutter my eyelashes up toward him.

“Enough. Hand it over.”

“Fine, but just know that the cover is misleading.” I show him the glossy cover, where there’s a hand bound with rope around each finger. He takes it and flips through the pages. My insides turn and twist with excitement as he takes in the very saucy images in front of him.

“This is a book on bondage.”

Be big, Daphne. I flick my eyes toward the ground, nod, and inhale before looking back up with a newfound confidence.

“Well, I ended up looking through it, and it seemed really interesting,” I say in a flirty tone. “Figured it could be a fun Yes Year activity for us.”

Oh my god, am I out of my comfort zone. My nerves are on edge, but I try to stay confident and own it.

“Well, we do have plenty of yarn.” He tilts his chin to the wooden basket brimming with various yarns in the corner of her room. The air between us is heavy with anticipation and a touch of thrill.

“Pick a color, Cameron.”

“Pick the knot, you naughty girl.” He winks, returning the book to me and slowly meandering to the yarn.

“Eek! Okay, I’m actually totally excited.” I sit cross-legged on the edge of my bed, flipping to a page that I dog-eared when the book arrived in the mail yesterday. What can I say? I was intrigued by all the knots and handiwork. Maybe it’s the knitter in me.

“You’ve already done your homework?”

“Took me over an hour to find the position I wanted to try first,” I admit, running my hand over the page. “Grab one of the three yarns on top—they’re the best for…bondage.”

“I think it’s sexy that you planned this for us.” He grabs the yarn in a blue-green shade that closely matches my eyes. My pulse escalates.

“Think you can manage this?” I flip the book around, showing him the instructions for a chest harness.

“I’m always up for learning new techniques,” he replies, a wicked grin playing on his lips.

I sit on the bed, my heart pounding in a heady mix of anticipation and nervous excitement, as both Cameron and I read the instructions for the harness. And by read , I mean stare at Cameron’s abs, which are looking extra taut tonight. I gulp, letting my fingers trace the soft, thick yarn in my lap. He splays a palm against my thigh, the weight possessive and reassuring. My throat feels hot as his hand climbs up my torso and his fingers wander across my skin.

“I’ll start with two loops of the yarn, wrapping them around your chest from front to back.”

“Should I take off my nightgown?” I ask, my pulse quickening at the mere thought of what we’re about to do.

“Whatever you’re comfortable with,” he assures me. With that, I remove my dress in one smooth motion, tossing it to the floor. He inhales, taking in my nude body, then leans forward and whispers in my ear, “You are so gorgeous.” His breath is tinged with peppermint, feeling icy along my skin. Goose bumps prickle my entire body. “Let’s pick a safe word,” he says as he hovers over my collarbone.

“A safe word?” I gulp, arching my back, aching for him to touch me. “My goodness, how kinky are these knots?”

“So eager for me to touch you.” He chuckles in a deep tone. “Pick a word.”

I meet his darkened gaze, thinking for a second. “Um—stop?”

He laughs. “Okay, so if you say stop, we’ll stop.”

“Good with me.”

With that, he begins. His hands move deftly, looping the yarn around my chest with surprising expertise, given how terrible his knitting skills usually are. Cameron’s touch is warm and firm, sending a ripple of shivers coursing down my spine.

“I like this,” I say as he ties the first knot, snugly but not restraining, on the base of my back.

“Spread these open for me, please.” He nudges my knees, and I do as he says. He flushes as he crosses the yarn over the top of my breast and uses his free hand to run along my core. “So wet already, Daph.”

I blush and glance down at his boxer briefs. “Seems like we’re both enjoying this.”

“I really am. Although I hope I’m doing it right.” He chuckles sardonically. “The aim is to create a box-like shape with the rope as I pull your arms back.”

Our laughter doesn’t feel awkward. It’s the kind of comfort I imagine you can only have after spending years with someone.

“I think you’re doing great,” I say. I’ll never be able to look at yarn again without thinking about this moment. Cameron’s forearms flex, a vein popping as he pulls my wrists back and gets behind me. He places kisses along my shoulder blades as he secures my arm back.

“There,” he says. I can almost sense the satisfied smile on his face. “Fuck, Daph, I am going to take such good care of you like this.”

My heart flutters at the promise. “What’s the next step in the instructions?”

His fingers pause momentarily as he glances at the pages in front of him. “It says to make sure the loops are snug but not too tight. How does it feel?”

“Good,” I assure him, my voice barely more than a whisper. Cameron’s fingers keep their steady pace, the loops of yarn growing steadily across my breasts as he licks, bites, and pulls on each of my hardened nipples. Each pass of his hands brings a wave of warmth, the sensation of the yarn against my skin a gentle reminder of the trust and connection between us.

Cameron evens out the yarn, his fingers tracing my body through the soft wool. Each touch is electric, the yarn soft and yielding beneath his fingers. His knuckles brush against me, a jolt of electricity that has me biting my lip to keep from gasping.

“Fucking perfect.” Once he’s done, he steps back, his gaze intense as it sweeps over me. “You okay?” he asks, his voice low and filled with desire.

“Yes,” I whisper, the word barely audible as my heart pounds against the confines of the yarn.

“Remember, say stop, and we’re done.”

“I don’t have any interest in stopping any time soon,” I say, smiling and thankful for the reminder.

“Good.”

He kisses me deeply, wrapping his hand around the base of my skull. I moan as he splits my lips with his tongue. I feel alive with him, like every nerve is on fire. The bind cinches against my wrists. I want to reach for him, touch him like I normally do, but I can’t.

He’s so far away, yet so close. The kiss breaks, and a devilish grin plays on his lips. I want him to map that smile across my body and pull me apart.

“Now, claim me.”

“Where do you want me to claim you?”

“Anywhere,” I manage to say. “I don’t want to think.”

“Could start at these pretty lips.” He takes his thumb and swipes it along my bottom lip. “Open up.” I oblige, and he swipes against the wetness on my tongue. “Though, if I’m filling up this pretty mouth, I won’t get to see you smile for me. And we can’t have that, can we?”

I whimper, straining against my bonds, craving any form of contact. “No.”

His breath is hot against my check. I need him. “Maybe I’ll skip taking my time and take you right here.” He presses two fingers against my entrance, making me gasp.“Or maybe…” Cameron grabs me and easily flips me onto my knees, my face collapsing into the mattress. He gently brushes the hair out of my face. “I’ll keep you here, bound and needing.” His fingers trace my cheekbone, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “All night.” The suggestion sends a thrill of panic through me. “No, I don’t have that kind of control even if I tried.”

“More,” I say the moment he pulls away.

“More what, Daphne?”

I stay quiet as my heart slams louder and louder into my chest, then whisper, “Just more. Of you. Of anything.”

From the corner of my eye, I see him lower his boxers, his ample size revealing itself between us. I anticipate him plunging directly into me, but he withholds that gratification. Instead, he drags the firm tip across me, and he moans. My thoughts go haywire. He continues his game, applying pressure to my core but never providing the satisfaction of his fullness. It’s maddening. “Cameron,” I beg. But he doesn’t stop, his gaze focused on where he’s grazing me. A deeper desire stirs within me, an urge beneath the tension of the restraints, and I yearn for more, arching my back until just his tip begins to fill me.

A guttural sound escapes him.

“My sweet, needy girl.” He laughs. “Already becoming so impatient.”

“I am,” I admit.

He runs a palm over my ties. “This still feel good? The book said it could get a little exhausting.”

“So good.”He starts to caress me with his fingers now, and I’m nearly thrashing on the bed with need when he begins playing, stroking and circling my clit. “That feels amazing, Cameron.” The wet sound of his fingers along me and my heavy breaths echo in the room. “Feels so right.”

With each word, he picks up pace, as if taking on the challenge of getting me there. It’s not going to take long.

“Cameron.” My voice is strained.

“I know, Daphne.” He says it like a soothing promise. “Give it to me, okay?”

My body shamelessly obeys and lets go, trying to reach the overwhelming need for release that’s blistering my head. I force my face into the mattress as an animalistic groan crawls out of me, my heart pounding so loudly in my ears I can’t tell where I am.

“That was one.” He smiles, gently patting my behind as I collapse onto my side.

My eyes widen. “One?”

He sits me on the edge of the bed and props pillows behind me so that I’m sitting with my legs hanging off the mattress. He gives my damp forehead a kiss and gets on his knees in front of me.

“Now, another,” he says.

“I don’t think that I can.”

“You can and you will. I’ll get you ready.”

He doesn’t wait for me to protest as he pulls open my knees, and the familiar feel of his scruff glides along the inside of my thighs before his hot breath gently kisses me. My lungs and heart stop working as a shiver shoots through my spine, and I toss my head back.

“Fuck,” I groan. Cameron chuckles between my legs. He’s enjoying this, isn’t he? This is payback for the damn fucking push-ups. Next thing I know, he’s going to start making me count these orgasms off one by one.

I close my eyes as I moan and breathe in a wave of sensations while Cameron’s mouth possessively takes me. He reaches up to trace his fingers over the harness while his tongue caresses my clit. I start to grind my hips against my will. Clearly, I was more ready than I thought I was.

“I love this,” I groan. “Love it, love it, love it.”

His hands spread my thighs wider, and one of his fingers teases my entrance. The soft push and pull splinters my mind. He breaks for a moment, his voice traveling up to my ears. “Look at me, sweetheart. Look at how I worship this sweet, pretty cunt.”

My mouth drops open, and I do exactly as he commands. He continues his pace, relentlessly bringing me back to the edge until my walls are tightening around his fingers again. I tense and tense and tense, the yarn burning my chest. Suddenly, my mind is blank, and I collapse again, at his mercy. His arms collect me into his chest, pressing my damp skin close to his warmth. So close. So right. He kisses me and wipes the hair out of my eyes. His lips are on my cheeks, my neck, my ear with a soft bite. When I manage to regain any sort of breath, the animal that’s taken over Cameron’s body growls in my ear. “That’s two.”

I muster up the laziest protest my sore body can manage.“Absolutely not.”

“You know what to say when you want to be done,” he reminds me.

And for some sick, twisted reason, I don’t say stop. The challenge seems all too exciting to refuse. I even manage to taunt, “You really think you can break your personal best? More than two orgasms in one night?”

A fire blazes in his eyes. “There she is. My favorite brat.” He chuckles, and his tenderness disappears.

Cameron drops me onto the bed on my side and stretches one of my legs out. As he settles behind me, his hands take my other leg and wrap it around his waist.

No teasing this time, not even a warning as he thrusts himself inside of me. “Fuck, you’re so hard,” I gasp with disbelief. “Oh my god? This is impaling territory all over again.”

He lets out a laugh. “You’re going to take all of it like a good girl, aren’t you?”

I am. “If you don’t break me with that thing first.”

“I’ll put you back together,” he promises. My heart soars. With that, he begins to take me slowly, deliciously.

Each stroke is attentive, as it always is when we’re together. He listens to my breathing, watches me with that hawk-eyed gaze. I don’t know if that’s just what happens when you’re fucking an athlete or if Cameron’s that in tune with me, but he just knows what he’s doing when he’s with me. Through every groan, I tell him that.

He knows every touch that feels right. Knows every limit. Knows what lines he can cross.

This is what love feels like, I’m sure. A constant risk of being on the brink but knowing you can risk it all and be okay.

When both of his hands grip my skin and his thrusts get longer, deeper, his hips slapping against me, I know he’s trying to control himself, but I can tell he’s on the edge.

“Too good, Daphne, always too fucking good,” he whimpers.

“Don’t stop,” I say and start to meet his every thrust, forcing him as deep into me as I can. I groan, grunt, and toss around beneath him until the assailing need starts to unhinge again, louder and bigger than the other two. I tighten around him until that familiar look of shock hits his face. I feel that first pulse as he releases into me, his climax shuddering through him. I keep rocking against him until my own follows. My heartbeat pounds in every pulse point across my skin.

Cameron drags his warm, comforting weight off of me.He starts by gently untying each knot, careful not to abruptly pull on any of the ropes. He carries out this process slowly and methodically, somehow even gentler than when he started. Once the ropes are removed, he checks for any areas that may have been affected by circulation issues and uses his fingers to massage those spots before sealing them with a kiss.

“One sec, okay?” he whispers in my ear, and I collapse against the pillow. He returns with one of the electrolyte drinks he keeps in my fridge and a bowl of sour gummy colas. Oh gosh. If I thought I was head over heels before, I definitely am now. “Here, fuel up.”

As I nosh on my candies and down the cool liquid, he drapes me in one of my throws and cuddles in beside me.

“How do you feel?”

“Like I’m not even inside of my body.”

“Good or bad?”

“Good,” I promise. “What was your favorite part?”

“Honestly, the same as it always is: hearing you tell me how much you like what I’m doing.”

It’s gotta be that athletes have a praise kink. I blush. “Communication is important.” I snicker.

“Having you tied up while you ran your mouth didn’t hurt,” he admits and gives my temple a kiss.

“I’m sure.”

“What about you? Favorite part? Something different for next time?”

I curl up into his chest. “I never thought I’d say this, but giving up control to you…it was oddly satisfying. Like I stumbled upon a brand-new flavor of freedom sundae, with a cherry of trust on top.”

“Very sweet analogy there, Duck.” He laughs. “I’m glad you had fun.”

I bite my lip. “And, you know, doing a role reversal could be fun. I mean, wouldn’t it be intriguing for me to wear the bossy pants for a change? And for you to, you know, experience the whole surrender thingy?”

“Bossy pants for a change?” He lifts a brow at me.

I feign innocence. “Yes.”

“Giving up having to think and make decisions may be a nice change.”

I give him a kiss. “Well, we do have plenty of yarn.”