Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Athena

One moment, I'm enjoying the feel of his tongue stroking over my clit and the next I've lost his touch, his heat, that glorious tongue and those perfectly roughened fingertips.

"Cam!" I protest when he pulls back.

But I don't get more than that out because then he's scooping me off the counter, holding me close, gaze scanning.

"What—"

He strides across the room and kicks the table to the side. It slides off the rug like it weighs no more than a bag of feathers, hitting the wall with a thunk .

"I—"

He drops to his knees with me in his arms and though I expect him to pin me to that fluffy rug, to spread my thighs and fuck me hard and fast, he doesn't. Instead, he leans back, taking me with him, settling me on top.

Yeah. Okay. I can work with this.

But then his hands drop to the insides of my thighs and he starts drawing me up his body.

I frown.

Then…I grin.

"Cameron Jackson," I mock-scold. "Are you trying to get me to do something naughty?"

Like ride his face until I come.

Yeah, I can definitely work with that.

"Get up here," he orders, desire blazing in his hazel eyes, the words a rough order, "where it's nice and warm."

I shiver at the rasp, at the demand, while at the same time that kernel of warmth hidden deep in my heart, a kernel that had once only been fueled by Lex, then Martha, then the other Jacksons…

Cam has always been there.

But now he's throwing gasoline on the spark, sending it flaming to life inside me.

Warmth flows through my belly.

He knew the counter was cold.

And now we're on a rug…with him taking the brunt of the cool fabric, the hard floor, and me…

Getting to enjoy the heat of his body?—

And his mouth.

Because he keeps coaxing and now I've slid up his torso, over his chest, his neck…to settle on his face.

He groans and the sound vibrates through me, but even as I'm absorbing that sensation—reveling in it—his hands settle on my ass, and…

His tongue gets to work.

Stroking through me, circling my clit. Joining in tandem with the stubble on his jaw, his lips to drive me crazy.

One hand lifts, cupping my breast, pinching my nipple, and I gasp, my hips jerking.

He stills and for a second, I worry that I've hurt him. But only for a second, because then his tongue begins to work my pussy with furious intent and his fingers roll my nipple, and his free hand palms my ass, kneading the flesh, encouraging me to continue rocking against his face.

To continue riding his face.

I jerk when I feel it—the first licks of an orgasm teasing through me.

Flames scorching my toes, crawling up my calves, my thighs. Creeping up my fingers, my arms, along my collarbones, over my breasts, down my belly…

And meeting between my thighs.

"Oh God," I whisper, still rocking, still grinding my pussy on his face.

"Come for me, cupcake," he orders gruffly, the words muffled…because I'm doing my best to smother him.

It's right there—my orgasm teasing me, hanging just on the edges of sensation, so close, so near, but…just not enough.

And thank fuck he sees that.

Thank fuck he doesn't stop and ask me what to do. He just takes action—to glorious, pleasurable results.

He shifts me a little higher and fucks me with his tongue.

"I—" I throw my head back, still grinding, still taking advantage of that stubble on his cheeks, but now, with the added motion of his tongue, filling me, fucking me, I'm plummeting over the edge.

"Cam," I moan, hips jerking, orgasm rippling through me.

He groans, tongue still working me, hands still on my ass and breasts, drawing out my pleasure until my head goes fuzzy and my limbs lax and?—

I squeak as he flips us, as my back hits the rug.

Cam doesn't crawl on top as I half-expect, as I half-hope.

Instead, he stays between my legs, and he doesn't stop fucking my pussy with his tongue.

Only this time, his hand joins in on the party, his thumb circling my clit, a finger sliding deep. Then another. And?—

"Cam!" I hiss.

"You like it," he murmurs against my labia, nipping lightly at my flesh and sending me shivering all over again. "And you need it, cupcake. Need to be ready for me to fuck you."

I want to make a quip about his big dick, or about being more than ready for him to stretch me to overfull, but I don't get the chance because he drops his head again and then he's driving his fingers into me, he's sucking at my clit, he's sending another orgasm barreling down on me, and?—

"Oh God!"

I come apart, shattering into a hundred pieces that he manages to corral, to keep together as he crawls up my body and cradles me close. My chest is heaving, my eyes are half-mast. But I can feel his cock throbbing against my hip, calling to that aching emptiness inside me. I know I could stop here, could leave this alone, could take my orgasms, chalk this whole interaction up to insanity, wait for us to get sprung from river jail, and go back to my life.

But that would be pretending.

Hiding from a fact I already knew in my heart since that night a decade ago when he first said I was beautiful.

Cam has feelings for me.

I don't think it's love—he doesn't know me, not really. But it's definitely lust, definitely like . And…I have those feelings too. And…

Well, once he gets to know me, the so-called love will calm, the crush will fade. We'll be able to enjoy each other's bodies until we don't any longer.

It'll be mutually beneficial. Pleasure for both of us and then…moving forward—Cam toward some nice girl who'll recognize that family doesn't mean sharing DNA, me toward a case I'll be able to take on with a level head.

Because Cam is right.

Tommy may have given his life for mine, but I would have done the same given the chance, and I'm going to make sure his sacrifice is worth something.

I inhale, feel that fact settle deep inside.

Then I tuck it away.

Enough of that right now.

Enough of anything except Cam and I and the pleasure we can bring each other—or the pleasure I'm going to bring him because he's done an exemplary job of pleasuring me .

He's tracing circles on my belly, random patterns that raise goose flesh on my skin, that wake my nerves, start building heat between my legs. But he doesn't show any urgency to climb atop me and fuck me.

Patient.

A gentleman.

Not rushing. Pleasuring me first. Looking after me.

I inhale because that settles deep, right next to my grief for Tommy, the way I feel about Lex and Martha and the rest of the Jacksons, including Cam.

Though Cam…

Well, he's the only Jackson I want to fuck.

The only Jackson I'm going to fuck.

I brush his hand away, push at his chest.

He doesn't move, though he looks up at me, our gazes connecting. "Something you're trying to tell me, cupcake?" he asks quietly, his lips twitching. He settles his hand back on my side, his big, warm palm spanning my waist, his fingers dipping south, brushing oh so slowly close to?—

I snag his wrist.

As much as I'm okay with him working me with those magic fingers, I need to take charge of this, need him to be pleasured and looked after and taken care of too.

Ignoring the blip of alarm that raises in me, I push at his chest again, roll him to his back, and clamber atop that hard, hot body.

Time to focus on something— anything —else.

And luckily, his smile grows.

"Something you want to ride , baby?"