His lips trail down my neck, sending shivers all over. "I love looking at you," he breathes, brushing the hair off my shoulders. "Will you let me?"
My wild heart seeks his. "Yes."
For a long moment, I just feel his gaze. Then, his hands. They skim d...
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C A M I L A
I've never wanted to be so ready.
The moment the door clicked shut behind us, sealing off the cacophony of the party, I was nothing but ready. As he cradles my face, breathing my air, I cup him with a hand through his sweats and relish the way his hips buck into my touch. It's trust. It's touch. I didn't ever correlate the two.
So, very softly, I ask, "Can you tell me what you want, Noah?"
"I want you to be mine. That's it."
"Like your girlfriend?"
"Yeah, we can start with that."
I press myself closer, my hands sliding up his chest. "Okay, I just have to tell the other three guys I'm—"
He cuts me off with a groan. "You test me."
I dip my fingers beneath his waistband. "That's what you like about me. Tell me what you want."
"Camila," he breathes, his hands sliding under my shirt, exploring the bare skin of my back. "I want to get you off again."
But I want this to be about him.
I can do this. I know I can.
With as much grace as I can muster, I sink to the floor, looking up at him from under my lashes. He's beautiful standing above me, shadowed, muscled, strong, scarred. I sit back on my heels, waiting, and feel a seam in my jeans give under my weight. I can't find it in me to care.
I lean up and slip my hands under his grey hoodie, raking my fingers from his chest to his abs, revelling in how quickly his breathing shifts. His arms raise again, gripping two shelves, tight.
Before he can do something like stop me, I reach for the hem of his sweatpants and tug them down. I set my lips to his hip bone, kissing once. Such hot, smooth skin. I keep pulling them down inch by agonizing inch until... until...
My hands start shaking.
For a really long moment, I stare farther and farther through him, my lips parted.
Then suddenly he's crouching in front of me, warm palms finding my face, thumbs brushing my cheeks. I didn't even realize tears were there until he catches one.
He cups my jaw, the tips of his fingers threading into my hair. So gently, so careful.
"I can. I can, Noah, I swear, I just—"
"Hey." His expression breaks my heart a little. "I know."
I squeeze my eyes shut. "I feel..." My voice catches. God, I hate crying. "I feel like I'm right there."
His forehead rests against mine.
Right there. Like I'm standing outside a locked door with my hand on the knob. So fucking close.
