Page 70 of Wrecked
“I fucking love how wet you get for me,” he groans.
My eyes threaten to close as his fingers barely brush over my clit, but I manage to keep them focused on him. “Only for you,” I whisper.
Having tortured us enough, he lines himself up, pushing in slowly before withdrawing all the way and then entering again with one deep thrust that has my back arching.
“I'd die happy being buried between your thighs.”
Gripping the back of my head and tangling his fingers in my hair, Cam leans down to capture my mouth, his tongue matching the strokes of his dick thrusting inside me. I grip his back, trying to hold him close and loving the feel of his body moving over mine.
Everything about this time is slower, deeper.
His forehead falls to rest against mine, and his eyes flutter open. He doesn't look away. He doesn't try to see where we're joined. Instead, he keeps intense eye contact as his hips roll. Even if I wanted to, I wouldn't be able to look away. His gun-metal eyes have me locked in a trance as the feelings inside of me build.
It continues on, the slow but powerful thrusts, the feelings of an impending orgasm increasing as his dick strokes just right. Even as I peak and cross over the line into bliss, he continues watching me, only pulling his head back slightly to see better the ecstasy written all over my face as I come.
Only then does he seem to lose any semblance of control he had with his hips increasing in pace.
“You take my cock so good.” He breathes out. “So fucking good.” Shifting his position, he slips his dick out and rubs the underside, where his piercings are, over my already sensitive clit. “You need to give me another one before I come, Jaz.”
“I don't know if I can,” I pant, still riding my high.
His breaths come out in short bursts, the thin thread he's holding onto ready to break. “Yes, you can.”
He slides against me a few more times, pulling more sounds from me as his piercings rub over my throbbing bud before he thrusts back in again. It doesn't take many more pumps of his hips before I'm coming undone again, and this time, he joins me.
CHAPTER 30
CAMPBELL
I tip my head to the filthy ceiling, swallowing down my drink while watching a fly fight against one of the old, dusty cobwebs filled with a million other dead bugs. There's no hope for him.
As I watch his futile effort, I think about the fucking shit show of a morning. This whole week has been, really, but today especially since I actually made a mistake, a somewhat big one. It wasn't really my fault, but the blame falls on me since I didn't double-check.
Dan, my supervisor, has been waiting for a moment to pounce. He's been looking out for any opportunity to point his finger and give me shit, and I sure made it easy for him today.
What's adding to all this fuckery, is that I've barely seen Jasmine this week. In fact, it's been three long, miserable days since I saw her last.
The week started out okay. Jasmine and I spent the first full day that her brother was in the city together with him since we were both off work. But since then, she's been busy showing him around and looking at possible apartment options for him.
The timing of our schedules has also been off, with her mostly being on late shifts while I've been working the day. And then, because her brother is here, I haven't turned up at her apartment late like I normally would have, and she hasn't been staying at mine.
I don't blame her at all for wanting to spend time with him, but it's meant that I haven't had much access to my happy place, leaving me feeling unsettled, and I've been left to my own devices.
Graham left today, so I'm looking forward to having her all to myself this evening.
The porta-potty shakes as forceful whacking against the outside thunder through the wall, jolting me out of my thoughts.
“Get your ass outta there,” Dan yells from the outside. “You've been in there for twenty minutes, and Ryat wants to see you.”
Blowing out a breath, I sit my flask on the little shelf above the sink and get up off the toilet lid to actually take a piss.
Dan is standing there with his hairy arms crossed over his beefy chest when I finally step out. He doesn't move out of my way so I can pass, instead making it so that I have to go around him. It's a struggle resisting the urge to shoulder-check him as I go.
When I arrive at the office trailer, trepidation fills my body, and I have to pause for a second before lifting my hand to knock on the door.
“Come in,” Ryat calls from somewhere inside.
I hesitantly step through the door before slapping on a false appearance of confidence, stuffing my hands in my pockets, so I don't fidget. The bourbon has helped a little already, but not enough to have me relaxed.
