Into You Series: The Complete Collection

30. Grace

CHAPTER 30

GRACE

T he drive home is maddening. My feet can’t stop shaking against the pedals, and I’m giving myself a crazy pep talk all while pretending this conversation is to Hank.

“This is a good idea, right?” I ask him. He looks up at me with his head turned to the side, but I just laugh. “I mean, you’ve seen him, right, Hank? I know you don’t swing that way, or I don’t know, maybe you do, but good God, he’s gorgeous, right?”

I picture Cameron with his bare chest after running—the rows of hard abs that adorn his body, the strong shoulders … the jungle gym that will soon be ravaged by my hands and my mouth. I want to kiss him. I want to taste every inch of him.

Dinner was everything I needed. I wasn’t sure how the night would turn out, but just one look into his eyes and I knew I was going to give in. For the past few weeks, I’ve wanted to talk to him, be around him, breathe in his woodsy scent … I’ve wanted his hands winding their way through my hair just one more time. And now my mind is caught on the same thing: His lips on mine, and that cock in his pants buried deep inside me.

The thought makes me take deep breaths and I’ve gotten so lost in my head that I don’t realize I’d made it back to the complex. I pull into a parking spot and Cameron is already out of his car, leaning against the trunk with his arms crossed and his dog pacing beside him. A grin lights up his face, and I know it’s for me. He’s all for me.

I open my door, escorting Hank on a leash, and Cameron’s lips are already upturned in a sexy smile. I scan every part of him—his strong shoulders, his prominent wrists guiding veins along his forearms, and his large hands, waiting to grip me once more. He’s looking me up and down, scanning me from my legs, my skirt, pausing at my breasts, and continuing up to my eyes where he arches one eyebrow.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he says.

I return the look, hoping I exude even half the confidence that he does. So much of that faded on the ride here. I’m a bundle of nerves.

“What a coincidence,” I say.

He’s focused on me for a moment more before looking down to Hank. “Do you think Hank would want a slumber party with Buddy?” he asks. “I can put on Air Bud .”

“Yes, good idea.”

He takes a step forward, and I clutch Hank’s leash a bit tighter. The nerves are shooting through me, and my face grows hot. His lips hover above mine, and I can smell his minty breath when they part. I rise on my toes to kiss him, but he pulls away with a chuckle.

Tease!

I click my tongue, guiding Hank over to Cameron’s apartment. I’m walking a few paces ahead of him, leading the way and swinging my hips more than I usually might, hoping my ass is right in his line of vision as we walk up the stairs.

Two can play at this game.

If only I can reach his apartment, drop off Hank, and make it back to my place. Every minute that passes is another minute he’s not running every bit of his hands over me. It’s another minute I’m not holding his cock in my grasp.

Why does this feel so far away? It’s a tiny lot and the apartment buildings are pretty close together, but it feels like I’m walking three miles just to reach his front door.

Finally, it’s in front of us. He catches up to me and pulls the keys out of his pocket. I can see a clever smirk tugging at his lips, and I know he’s purposefully being infuriating as he takes his sweet time fingering through the key fob looking for the correct one. My hands run along his stomach from behind, feeling the peaks of his abs. He lets out a low groan, and I relish the sound.

He finds the key and inserts it into the door, stepping aside to let me walk in first. Once I’m ahead, Cameron grabs my ass. It’s something so simple and so shocking, and I’m dying. He rubs across one of my cheeks and gives it a hard slap, making me jump.

Holy mother of …

As promised, he loads in the DVD of Air Bud (who actually owns that?), reaches into a drawer, draws out a couple condoms, and pockets them. I expect us to begin pawing at each other once the door closes behind him, but he locks it, and we walk in silence to my apartment. He’s testing my patience, making me wait every single second he can, prolonging the anticipation.

I’m less graceful with my keys, fumbling for the correct one and trying my best to jam it in the lock. It’s even worse when I feel Cameron’s breath warm my neck. His rough hands ride under my shirt and settle on my hips as he pulls me closer to him. I can feel his hardness against me.

His mouth closes over the lobe of my ear as he whispers, “Do you want me to fuck you, Grace?”

The words send shivers down my spine. I know I’m wet. I know how bad I want him.

“I think you want it more than me,” I lie.

“I’ll make you eat those words.”

“Or maybe something else?”

“Get inside,” he demands.

We walk in and I close the door behind me. Within seconds, Cameron is pushing me against it, lips devouring mine once more.

Bliss. Fire. Hunger.

I eagerly push back, forcing my way into his mouth, letting our tongues meet. Our bodies cannot be contained. I’m burning from the inside out.

I clutch the collar of his shirt and tug him closer, if that’s even possible. Our bodies are slowly molding into one as he presses himself against me, moving his hips to let me feel just how hard he is for me. I feel for the edge of his shirt and pull it over his head in one movement. I let myself rub over his abs, taking in the feel of it all, soaking in the smell of him—bonfire, cedar, sweat. He moves my arms above my head, holding them in place with one hand while his other finds its way behind my back and unhooks my bra with one snap of his fingers. There’s no fumbling hands or breathy apology. It’s like he’s meant to be here, and his lust for me flows through every calculated motion. The bra didn’t have a chance.

I can’t move my hands. I squirm under his dominant touch. I arch my back, willing my body to move and touch his. I make sure my chest is pressed against him. He lets out a low breath, lifting my shirt and moving my now loose bra out of the way.

He takes my breast into his mouth and flicks his tongue back and forth against my nipple. The sensation runs down my chest into my thighs. I want to clench my legs closer together as I’ve gotten used to doing, but then I remember I don’t need to. This is happening and he wants me. I don’t need to hide anymore. He rubs his bulge against my hips, but there are clothes between us, and that simply isn’t good enough.

“Please let me touch you,” I whine.

He stops licking me, and I miss the warmth of his mouth, but his breath against me makes up for it. Shivers run over my bare skin.

“I want you to beg.” His words rumble in his throat, a carnal sound.

I buck my hands against his hold, but he doesn’t release them.

“Make me,” I challenge.

He takes me into his mouth once again, licking, biting, sucking. He’s devouring every bit of me that he can. A moan escapes before I can halt it.

I whimper under his touch as he circles my nipple with his tongue. He repeats the motion, gradually getting softer, fainter, making the pleasure just out of reach with each movement.

My knees buckle.

“Please,” I moan.

“More.” He swipes his tongue against me; my hips buck forward in response.

“Please let me suck your cock.”

At that, he moves his hand from my wrists, bringing it down to lift my skirt and explore me underneath. He lets his hand run along my thighs, trace the edge of my underwear, then slowly rub against the outside of the thin fabric where he finds my clit.

I let out a moan and I hear him chuckle, as if winning the fight for initial pleasure. I will not have that type of confidence from him overpowering me.

I force myself to release from his hold and lower to my knees, wanting more of his touch, but I’m too excited about my frantic hands unbuckling his belt and pulling his pants down. I kiss the outside of his boxer briefs, slowly tugging them off until his cock is released in front of me.

I can’t help but grin as I look up at him and meet his eyes. It should be impossible that he’s as good looking, funny, and charming as he is. It’s almost unfair he’s well-endowed as well.

“Lucky me,” I say.

A smile tugs at the side of his mouth. I can see a lone dimple deepening through his beard, and I know that before this night is over, I will have that beard against my thighs. Even if he wants me to beg, I’m not afraid to do exactly that.

I take only the tip of him inside my mouth, running my hand along his length, teasing him with small kisses along the side. He growls and runs his hand through my hair, gripping it into a ponytail and trying to ease the rest of himself into me. I resist. I need him to want this.

“Baby, please,” he groans as I pull him out of my mouth and kiss his base, licking my way back to the top, purposefully drawing out the motion.

“Who is begging now?”

He lets out a struggled mix of an exhale and a moan. He’s mine.

I stop at the head and look up at him before I take him into my mouth completely, bobbing back and forth, flicking my tongue against him, and pumping my hand.

I continue for a minute before his patience wears thin and he pulls me up by my arms, slipping his cock out of my mouth. He grips underneath my thighs, picking me up. My legs wrap around his waist. He steps out of his pants and carries me to my bedroom. I kiss every part of his skin I can find: his neck, his collar, his shoulder. I bite it for good measure.

He throws me down on my bed, hovering over me. There’s a moment where all I can see is his eyes as they dart between mine. He runs his hands from my neck down to my stomach, following them with a raised eyebrow, taking in my body. His hand glides over my underwear, and he lowers himself to kiss the fabric.

“God, you’re sexy,” he breathes.

Cameron slides my panties down past my ankles. His hand drifts up my legs. His palm rests on my knee, spreading my legs apart as he kisses the inside of my thighs slowly, taking every bit of care in building my anticipation.

His scratchy beard reaches my lips, and he kisses them, letting just the flat of his tongue rub against me. It’s like fire igniting every single nerve. He needs to move lower and before my hand can reach his head to direct him, he just knows.

Smart man.

He flicks his tongue faster. My body is his for the taking, and he navigates me with his tongue like he’s known me forever. His fingers curl into me, pushing in and out as he continues to lap me up. The sensation spreads to my hips, my arms, my fingers, and my now shaking legs. My mouth can’t form words—just moans.

I release my orgasm, letting the sensation reel through me at lightning speed.

“Look at me,” he demands. My eyes meet his. The edges of his beard are soaked from my wetness. A grin spreads across his face.

“You’re delicious.”

My face heats.

“Really,” he insists with another flick of his tongue. My toes involuntarily curl. “But I need to be inside you right now. I’ll die if I’m not.”

My hands clutch the sheets, balling the fabric in my fists as if they will keep me grounded. I lift my ass from the bed to coax him on, but he pushes my pelvis back down. He circles his thumb across my clit for a moment before standing up and walking toward the doorway.

“I’ll be back.”

“No,” I moan, begging for him to return. My chest hurts at his sudden absence as if it can’t survive without the heat of his body near mine.

Cameron turns around at my call and passes his eyes over me. I’m on display for him, legs apart, feeling both vulnerable and empowered by it all.

“Touch yourself,” he demands.

I oblige without thinking—still so sensitive from my first orgasm. But, he could ask me to jump off the top of the office building and I’d probably do exactly that.

He comes back moments later with a condom in hand, ripping the package open with his teeth. The immediacy and carnage in the motion sends my mind whirling. I’m lightheaded and thankful I’m laying down. I watch, hungry, aching, as he rolls it down his length.

I move my fingers in slow circles against myself as he walks up to the edge of the bed, separating my legs further to position himself in front of me. The head teases my thighs while his other hand trails up my stomach and to my breasts. He pinches my nipple between his fingers, rolling it between them.

His tip rubs against my opening.

“Tell me you want it,” he urges. His voice is gruff.

“I need it.”

At that, he groans and pushes himself into me. My stomach curls in on itself, and I feel blinded, but full and content. We fit like we’re made for one another and every ridge of him sets my insides aflame.

He pulls out slowly, and I already miss being filled by him. He eases his way inside again, pumping in then pulling back out. I watch his eyes close, and his head fall back, a groan escaping his lips. His dark brown hair is flipped to the side, unruly and swaying with each dip of his head. I move myself closer to the edge of the bed, desperate for him to be deeper inside of me.

“Cameron, fuck me now .”

His eyes open and he looks down to me. He pinches my nipple harder and, with one movement, sends all of himself into me. I groan his name, finding no other words to express how perfectly he fills me up. He moves against me with force, grabbing my legs and placing my ankles on his shoulders. He grips my hips, possessive, as he pushes deeper and deeper with every forward thrust. The sound of our skin together wills me further into submission. I let him guide me, consume me, and I take every thrust against me like it’s the last.

I keep rubbing circles against my clit. A building sensation starts in my pelvis and low in my stomach.

He increases the pace, tightening his grip on my hips, calling my name with expletives. It’s animalistic, a sound demanding more of me. He’s insatiable.

I move my hands away, moments from imminent release, and instead grip the sheets beside me. I use them as leverage to push myself against him in the same rhythm. He groans and grinds harder, a dance of desire and want.

My stomach clenches, the yearn to let go oncoming. But I don’t want this to end yet.

“Come for me,” he says, moving faster, clutching my hips harder.

The sound of his voice sends the pleasure radiating through me; pure elation carrying up to my stomach as I come hard. My head is numb as he pushes in and out, huffing out deep, grumbling breaths.

“Baby—” he growls, but before he can finish, he leans over and bites my neck. With a sound like relief, he releases inside me and collapses on my chest.

He lays there panting for a moment, then kisses every inch of my chest, my collar bone, my neck, and ends at my lips with soft, light kisses. Our mouths are perfect for each other as they move in unison. He pulls away, planting one small kiss after another on my chest before looking back into my eyes, the mix of brown and green tantalizing as a smile tugs at his lips.

“I need more of that,” he says.

I laugh, reaching up to run my hands through his hair, mussing up the top as he generally would. But it’s not him this time; it’s me. This is me playing with his thick hair, me with my fingers running along his beard, caressing his jawline. I’m the one placing my forehead against his.

“Do you want me to call you ‘boss’ next time?” I whisper.

“Mmm,” he groans, placing his head in the crook of my neck. “You’re an absolute fox, do you know that?”

“It’s the red hair, isn’t it?”

“It’s absolutely everything, Holmes.”