16. Dom

CHAPTER 16

DOM

Music.

The very first note wrenches me from my bed, and I'm across the hall in moments. I push the door open quietly, like I always do. I never actually come in here with the intention of creeping on him, but the moment I see him dancing, it's like my tongue swells up and I'm afraid nothing I say will be good enough. I won't have a good enough reason to be here, other than I can't not come when I hear the music. I can't not watch him dance. He casts a spell with the movements of his body, and the faraway look of desperation in his expression that calls to me. I want to watch him dance without the pressure of an audience, because when he thinks no one is looking is when he's the most unrestrained. It's when he's the most beautiful.

Even from across the studio, I can tell he's not his best self today. He looks exhausted. The dark circles that were under his eyes days ago have only grown darker. Tears have traced tracks down his cheeks, and his eyes are puffy and red. He looks haunted.

What I wouldn't give to take away some of his pain. Share that all too familiar pressure. And maybe then he could get some rest.

Is it my fault he’s so upset?

I don't bother to hide this time, instead I remain standing just inside the door. Still, it takes until the middle of the second pass through for him to notice me. He stops, mid spin, right as the music crescendos. His light pink tank top is transparent with sweat, chest heaving from exertion.

"Don't stop," I whisper.

He can't hear me. I'm not even sure he can see me well enough to read my lips. He stands there staring at me, not moving a muscle other than the rise and fall of his chest. We stare at each other until the music stops and the room is filled with earsplitting, overwhelming silence. I can hear my blood rushing. I can hear his heavy breaths.

"Don't stop," I repeat. My low murmur feels loud in the tense silence.

Without taking his eyes off me, Cameron wraps his arms protectively around his middle.

"Wh-What are you doing here?"

"I heard the music."

"Sorry if I disturbed you.”

“You didn’t. I’m just surprised to see you. It’s earlier than you usually—” His lips quirk and I realize my mistake. Does that mean he knows I’ve been in here to watch him?

"I was waiting for you." The admission slips out before I’ve processed the words or given my mouth permission to speak. My words hang in the air like humidity right before a rainstorm.

They're simple words, but the meaning behind them is heavy.

Because I have been waiting. I've been in limbo since the moment the lights on that stage went up and I saw him move for the first time. Every moment we've spent together since that night has only compounded the feeling that I get when I'm around him—the need to be close to him. It's not even an overtly sexual thing. Although my body certainly is on board with being as close to him as possible. I've been in a constant state of arousal for months. But it's more than that. It's a compulsion, a sixth sense that says I'm meant to be in his orbit. An invisible force pushing me towards him, despite all the reasons I should be backing away.

Except I don't back away. I take a step forward, and then another, and another. At the same time, Cameron starts towards me. We meet in the middle of the room, coming together without an ounce of hesitation. In one fell swoop, he launches into my arms. I catch him easily, supporting his thighs around my waist. Our mouths crash together with desperation, tongues and teeth clashing. My back hits the door behind me, and I flip us around, pinning him. My hips instinctively roll, pressing the growing hardness of my erection against his. Cam gasps into my mouth, and I take advantage, deepening the kiss that feels like it will either end or save my life.

"Take me to your place," Cam moans, shifting. "I want to feel you."

Feel me what ? I don't know. It doesn't matter. He could tell me to strip down, streak across the city, and climb the Bank of America Plaza building and I'd be at the very top, butt ass naked and beating my chest like King Kong within the hour.

Our mouths don't leave each other as I carry him out of the studio and to my apartment. Once inside, I set him on the kitchen island and take advantage of my free hands, trailing them up his toned legs, feeling the hot, sweat-slicked skin of his back beneath his shirt. Cam grabs the bunched fabric and pulls it up over his head, baring his chest and torso to me. Before I can get a good look at him, he's tugging at my shirt, too. Once it's over my head, we take a good look at each other. I don't love that he's obviously lost weight from his already trimmed frame. Not because he doesn't look amazing, but I'm concerned about his health. That doesn't change that he's beautiful. All that smooth, hairless, lightly tanned skin stretched over planes of lean, cut muscle make my mouth water. It's such a deep contrast to my larger, burlier body that I can't keep from marveling over every inch.

Cam leans back on his elbows, letting me drink him in while he does the same to me. Ducking my head and bracing my hands on either side of his body, I lean over him and run the tip of my nose down his sternum to his stomach. Then my tongue darts out, dipping into his belly button before following the same trail back up his body. I kiss along his collarbone, then down to his left nipple. The tight bud is a tantalizing dusty pink color that matches his lips, and I can help but wrap my lips around it and gently suck it into my mouth. To my surprise, Cam arches his back and whimpers, so I give the other nipple the same treatment, giving it a gentle nip before kissing up to his collarbone. I lick and suck the salt from his neck, leaving small red splotches along his skin. When I make it back to his mouth, I'm near frantic with the need to consume him.

"I want to taste you everywhere," I rasp against his lips.

His head tips back, exposing his throat. My lips fall from his, skimming over his chin and down to his jutting Adam's apple. When Cam bucks his hips, pushing his erection into my stomach, my teeth graze him. He doesn't seem to mind. In fact, he groans and presses more urgently against me.

My hands come to his sides, circling his small waist. Cam lays flat on the counter and arches his back, allowing me to lift his waist and hips to press his lower half against me. Tentatively, I tuck my fingers into the waistband of his shorts. I flick my gaze up to find Cam watching me with hooded eyes. He nods and lifts his hips to allow me to slide the shorts and underwear down his thighs and off his legs. I drop them to the floor and take a step back, looking at the man before me.

He's petite, and small framed, with legs that seem a mile long. Curvy in all the right places. He has soft features, full, pouty lips, high cheekbones, and perfectly arched eyebrows. His beauty has an almost feminine appeal, but there is no denying that he's all man. It's not like I haven't been aware of it from the moment I saw him, but now is the first time that I’ve felt any sort of panic. Not because he's a man exactly, but because of inexperience.

I've never done this before. My eyes trail over his body, entirely naked before me. His heels are on the edge of the counter, knees bent, legs spread just wide enough that I can see his cock jutting up between them, leaning on his left thigh. The head of his cock is dark pink and glistening, and a drop of fluid falls from the tip as I stare back at it. I lick my lips, contemplating what to do next. I want to make him feel good, but I have no idea what I'm doing.

"You don't have to do anything," Cam says, just above a whisper. I must have said at least part of my thoughts out loud, or maybe my facial expressions gave me away. "It's okay. I can show you, if you like. You don't have to reciprocate."

I shake my head. "No. I want to. I just… promise you'll tell me if I'm doing something wrong?"

He chuckles lightly. "You can't really do much wrong. Although, uh… Maybe I can grab a quick shower before we go any further? I'm all sweaty."

My hand shoots out to steady him before he can move. "No, don't. I… like you this way."

"I've been working out all day. I showered after rehearsal, but still?—"

I answer his worried rambling by ducking my head between his legs. My arms spread his thighs wider, giving me room to swipe the flat of my tongue up the crease of his groin. I inhale a deep, shaky breath.

"You're perfect," I say, resting my head against his lower stomach. I nuzzle into him, breathing him in. I run my nose up the length of his cock, then lay my cheek on it. I'm careful not to rub my scruff too harshly against his smooth, bare skin, but the way he squirms makes me wonder if he minds it much. I nuzzle and kiss the crease of each leg, then dip lower to do the same to his heavy sack. He lets out a breathy moan when I run my tongue up the seam to the base of his cock. His cock twitches encouragingly.

All I want is to make him feel good. Cherished. Like he's the only thing that matters, because, right now, he's the only thing that matters to me. I don't need to overthink this.

With the next swipe of my tongue, I don't stop at the base. I lick all the way up, collecting the beads of wet fluid dripping down his shaft. It's a barely noticeable flavor, just a tinge of saltiness that makes me want more to analyze it.

My mouth closes around the mushroomed tip of his cock, and I hold it there, tasting him. I test his weight on my tongue before swirling it around and sucking gently. Cam lets out a little cry and his hips jerk. Okay, so that's good. Slowly, I map all the parts of his cock and balls, taking mental notes of what gets the best reaction. He's so responsive. Especially when I lick the underside of his cockhead, or test sticking my tongue in his slit. I'm working on taking him deeper, going a little further down with each stroke, then suckling the head while I steady my breaths through my nose.

Cam moans. "Dom, I'm gonna… mmphh … I'm gonna cum."

Oh, fuck yes. My cock pulses against the front of my pants, the growing wet spot bleeding through the soft cotton. I haven't so much as touched myself, but I feel close to?—

Fuck .

The moment Cam's hot load floods my mouth, I cum in my pants like an inexperienced teenager. I cough out a moan, the sound garbled by Cam’s cock and a mouthful of cum. I swallow down the first pulses, chasing anything that tries to get away, taking him deeper.

He tastes metallic, with a hint of saltiness. The aftertaste is strange, but I don't hate it. That, and the way Cam is writhing and moaning, guarantees that I'll be sucking samples out of him as often as he'll let me.

When I look back up at Cam, he's staring down at me with an odd expression of wonder. His chest is heaving as much as it was when he was dancing earlier, and there are new beads of sweat dotting his forehead. I want to lick that from him, too.

I think I might need to calm my freak a little, because I'm worried that letting him know just how obsessed with him I am might not be the right move. Now that I've gotten a taste, I'm not sure I'll ever be able to stop.

Gone are my reservations about all the reasons this is wrong. I still care about my brother's opinion, of course, but not enough to stop me from making this man mine. I worry that I'm not good enough for him, but not enough to resolve to be better, to try hard enough to one day deserve him. I can't do anything about the age gap between us, other than to stay in the best shape I can so I can keep up with him. Would it be fair to ask him to keep me young? Right now, I can't think that far ahead. All I know is that this man is mine. Something in me claimed him at first sight, and now he's a part of me. He's in my belly, and in my bloodstream. Consuming me from the inside out.