Camden_Four Sons Page 8

  “Stop teasing me,” I breathe.

  “This would be teasing,” he counters as his longest finger inches lower, until it slips between my lower lips and whispers over my clit. I let out a needy moan in response. When he pulls his hand back up, I growl.

  “Stop.”

  “Stop touching you?”

  “Stop teasing me, asshole. Do whatever you’re going to do and let’s get this over with.”

  He pushes away the bottoms and runs his finger down my slit again. I shudder in his arms, my eyes slamming shut. Quickly, I pop them back open.

  “Stop the boat,” I beg. “I…I can’t focus.”

  His chuckles are like gasoline to the flames flickering inside me. Lust has become an inferno, obliterating all common sense. I’ve barely registered he’s turned off the boat and we’re just coasting.

  “You haven’t even gone swimming yet and you’re probably already soaked,” he observes.

  “Don’t flatter yourself,” I lie.

  His finger pushes against my very much wet and ready opening. A groan rasps from me as he easily slides inside. His lips press tender kisses between not-so-tender bites on my shoulder. The beast that lives within him seems to war with the gentleman he’s groomed himself to be. I’m fascinated to witness him as both a cruel-tongued monster and the master who plays my body like an instrument.

  “Feel this?” he breathes against my skin as he presses in deep and curls his finger. Pleasure pulsates from my core, making my eyes flutter closed and my head fall back.

  “Yessss.”

  “That spot is where I will own you, Poppy.” He rubs me there again, sending more shockwaves through me. “Do you agree?”

  “Yes,” I mutter, no longer caring to keep up pretenses. Right now, he’s giving me something I’ve never felt before. I’ve come tons of times, but it’s all been from my clit—not my g-spot. Such an elusive and silly notion. The few boyfriends I’ve had over the years never found it. I certainly never had. Camden acts like he’s known exactly where it was all along.

  “You’re so fucking juicy,” he growls. “My finger is soaked because of you, dirty girl. I thought you hated me. Yet here you are drenching me. I think you lie to me, but mostly, you lie to yourself.”

  His taunts only serve to turn me on more. I find my thighs clenching and quivering with need. In the afternoon heat, I feel too hot and sweaty.

  “Do you want to come?” he asks, nipping at my neck.

  “Yes.”

  “Beg me.”

  “Ugh,” I complain.

  He rubs me in a delicious way. Maybe if I ignore him…

  His finger starts sliding out, and I panic. “Please. I want it. It feels good,” I admit with a huff. “Don’t stop.”

  “Much better.” As he rubs me inside, he ignores my clit altogether. It makes me want him to touch me there too. I imagine his tongue there, which only serves to make me wetter. When his other palm cups my breast, I clench around his finger. “Don’t worry. I can’t ignore these perfect tits for long, baby.”

  Baby.

  The sentiment is so simple and so sweet, and it foolishly has me warming to him. He’s so cool and composed. The ragged way he said “baby” just unravels me. I’m spinning, mixed up with confusing thoughts and glorious touch, when he pulls my top to the side. His fingers touch my bare flesh, and he gently pinches my hardened nipple.

  “These nipples are perfect for biting,” he tells me, tugging hard enough that I cry out. The zing of pain sends pulses of pleasure rippling from my core. “And you want to get bitten.”

  Do I?

  My past lovers never bit me.

  But the idea of being sprawled beneath Camden as he bruises my flesh dizzies me.

  “You think you know everything,” I murmur.

  “I know you better than you think.” He pulls on my nipple again. “Your cunt squeezes when I do that.” Then he bites my shoulder. “And when I do that.”

  He continues to abuse my nipple as he bites at my neck until I become overwhelmed with pleasure. With one finger inside me, two pinching me, and a mouthful of teeth sinking into my throat, I come like a wild heathen. A loud, brazen scream, and I let go. My vision becomes a blast of bright white as every nerve ending starting from my core explodes through me. I shudder in his grip and nearly slide to the floor as I lose myself to an orgasm.

  The best orgasm I’ve ever had.

  Shame threatens to make me feel bad, but then I remember I’m single. Single women can come all they want and enjoy it. They don’t even have to feel guilty. He may be the enemy, but he played my body like we were on the same team.

  His finger slides out of me and he pops my pussy hard enough to make my cry out.

  “I’m hungry. Let’s cook lunch.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Camden

  I’m amused that she’s been pouting since lunch. Since I gave her an earthshattering orgasm and then forced her to calm down so we could eat. She glowered as I ordered her to cut vegetables. Frowned as we ate the filets I cooked in the skillet. Looked fucking miserable as I chatted about current events and her campaign.

  Now, she’s lying on the top of the boat, soaking up the sun and ignoring me. Torturing her is what makes my dick hard. While she acts like a bratty teenager, I change into my swim trunks in the cabin and attempt to settle my cock. That was the real reason I stopped what we were doing from going any further. I was three seconds from impaling her on my dick. But that would mean losing control.

  I don’t lose control.

  I’m going to tease and taunt her. Draw this shit out until she’s begging for me. By the time I get off this boat, she’ll be creaming her panties any time she looks my way. I smirk as I go above deck.

  “Are you going to pout all day?” I sneer.

  “Fuck you.”

  “You certainly wish.”

  She scrambles to her feet and glowers at me. Her chest heaves with fury. “No. What I wish is for you to take me home.”

  “Not going to happen.”

  “Your mind games are better suited for some dumb college girl,” she hisses.

  “You like it when I mind fuck you, baby. You wish I’d fuck your pussy too.”

  She storms forward and shoves me, catching me off guard. I stumble back a few steps, then charge her way. With her plump lips parted and sexy as fuck, the urge to kiss her is overwhelming. As I prowl toward her, she slips.

  It happens so fast.

  Fumble. Thud. Splash.

  The moment she falls and knocks her head on the side of the boat before flipping off the edge, I’m already moving. When I reach the side, her body sinks under the surface. I don’t hesitate before diving in after her. With my eyes open, ignoring the burn of the ocean, I swim hard toward her. Four years as a varsity swimmer in high school and now in my first year of college, I have faith in my abilities when out in the ocean. I’ve just never tried to save anyone before.

  Her blonde hair has come free of her bun and I swipe out, grabbing a handful. I’m able to draw her to me and then kick powerfully toward the surface. As soon as I reach air, I gasp a lungful of it, then swim us over to the back of the boat where the ladder is. She doesn’t make a sound, which has terror rising up in me.

  “Poppy,” I bark out as I climb into the boat with her. “Poppy!”

  I lay her on her back and stare down at her bluish face. It scares the fuck out of me. My lifeguard training kicks in, and I begin performing CPR. Thank God it only takes a second before she’s sputtering and coughing up salty ocean water. Once she realizes where she’s at and what’s happened, fat crocodile tears well in her eyes. Her bottom lip trembles, and fuck if I don’t forget every angry thought I have against her.

  “Shhh,” I murmur as I haul her into my lap and wrap my arms around her. “You’re okay. I wasn’t going to let anything happen to you.”

  She sobs and clings to me. I stroke my fingers along her wet skin while kissing the top of her head. I hold her for hou
rs, the sun warming us until it begins to set on the horizon.

  “Popps,” I grunt. “Wake up.”

  “I’m tired,” she complains.

  “And if you hurt your head, the last thing you should do is nap. Stay awake and talk to me,” I say softly.

  When she ignores me to snuggle closer, I stand with her in my arms. I carry her down into the cabin and set her to her feet in front of the shower.

  “Take a warm shower. You’ll feel better. I’ll make us something to eat for dinner.” I start the shower and open the door for her.

  “Camden…” she chokes out. “I’m sorry.”

  “For falling off the boat?”

  Her nose turns pink. “For whatever hurt you.”

  Anger surges up inside me, reminding me of my purpose. I start tugging at the strings of her swimsuit until she’s naked, then grab her biceps and walk her into the shower.

  “Stop talking,” I snap.

  She grips my shoulders before I can back away. “No.”

  “Shower. Now.”

  In a bold move, she flings her body against mine. Her bare tits pressed against my chest has my fury transforming into something more passionate. My cock lurches in my trunks, eager to get to her. As though she’s inside my head, her hand slides between us to push down my trunks. When my aching dick is in her tiny hand, I groan out in pleasure.

  “Fuck,” I complain. “Fuck.”

  This was not how it was supposed to go down. Yet here I am, fusing my lips to hers and pushing her into the tiny ass shower. I let my trunks fall to my feet and step out of them. My hands grip her fleshy ass and lift her.

  “I’m not using a condom,” I threaten.

  “I’m on the pill.”

  “You’re not afraid?” I ask as I rub my dick against her slick opening.

  “You dove into the ocean to save me from drowning. I doubt you’d willingly hurt me.” She kisses me hard before pulling away to look at me with the softest, sweetest stare. “I trust you.”

  Dumb girl.

  Dumb fucking girl.

  You don’t trust a monster.

  I line the crown of my dick against her wet heat and drive hard inside her. She screams and claws at my shoulders, but I don’t give her any chance to escape. I grip her ass, lean her against the wall, and fuck the fire out of her. Her lips and teeth are desperate as they attempt to touch me everywhere. We’re both lost to the moment. No longer enemies. Just two needy souls. A black, twisted one, and this sweeter one bred from a villain.

  “Camden,” she cries out. “Oh God.”

  I kiss her deep and grind into her, rubbing her clit in just the right way. When her nails dig in deeper and she screams in ecstasy, I lose control. My cock throbs as I come deep inside her, filling her the fuck up with my pleasure. An animalistic possessive growl resounds from me.

  I’ve lost my goddamn mind.

  Abruptly, I pull her off my dick and rinse off while she holds herself, watching me warily.

  “Make it quick,” I bark out and leave her.

  I need to get a hold of myself before I do something stupid.

  Like claim her for good.

  * * *

  “Smells good,” she says softly as she enters the dining area.

  My eyes, eager to drink her in, skim over her appearance. All the makeup on her face is gone, making her look more my age, and her blonde hair is down in wet, messy waves. She’s stolen one of my t-shirts and more of that male pride surges inside me. I like the way the white fabric reveals her peaked nipples. She’s naked under the shirt. And I fucking love that.

  “Sit,” I grunt.

  I’ve set up her place across the table from me. But as soon as I take my seat, she picks up her plate and glass to move closer. I try to ignore her as we eat, but she happily chirps about how good the food is.

  “I didn’t know you could cook.” Her leg brushes against mine, and I move it away.

  “Nobody does.”

  She sips her tea and frowns at me. “Why not?”

  I shrug. “My brothers like to feel like they’re taking care of me. I let them.”

  “So you hold out on them? What an injustice.” She inhales her food, then curls up next to me, leaning against me. I don’t push her away despite wanting to. “Do you live on this boat? Mateo always told me you lived with Hayden. I snooped around after my shower. You have like five thousand watches.”

  “Nosey,” I say, leaning back in my seat.

  She tilts her head up to look at me. Her blue eyes are clear and curious. I fucked her and was an ass to her, yet she’s still here snooping, literally and figuratively. I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready to lift some of the lids in my mind.

  Especially not by her.

  “I live with my brother, but he’s proposing to his girl, Katie. I’ll be looking for a place now. Somewhere near the beach.”

  “Does Trevor Blackstone still own all that property? Maybe he could sell you something. I know your family is close to him.” She goes quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry about your parents.”

  Emotion aches in my chest, and I hate it.

  I tear my gaze from hers to think about my father.

  * * *

  “Go play,” he grunts, motioning with his head outside.

  His friends smirk my way. Some unknowing. Others watch me like I’m a little steak on Dad’s grill they want to eat. I don’t like them. Especially him.

  Gladly, I start for the door when I hear his voice.

  “Your father says you’re into boats now?” the one I hate the most says to me.

  “He’s got an entire collection,” Dad says.

  One of his friends moves to sit closer to him, telling him about a freight company in Hong Kong. The one I hate most rises from his seat.

  “I’d love to see it, little boy.”

  I cringe. I hate when he calls me “little boy.” I’m eleven now. I’m not little.

  I want Mateo or Uncle Trevor or Dad to notice how much I hate this guy, but they don’t. They’ve joined the conversation, all talking animatedly about the subject. The one I hate grips my shoulder and guides me from the room. He takes me to my bedroom, but the lock is worthless now because we’ve walked right in. Together. I stand in the middle of the room, frozen in fear as he picks up each and every model boat I have. When he’s done, he turns his scary look my way.

  Big smile.

  Handsome.

  I know because the women throw themselves at him now that his wife is dead. I wish they’d keep him away from me.

  “I want to show you something in the bathroom, little boy.”

  Black. Black. Black.

  My mind erases horrors I will never think of again. Pain assaults me in places it shouldn’t. I want to throw up. I want to cry. But I’m still frozen.

  “Remember what we talked about?” he asks, petting my hair like he’s some good, kind uncle.

  I swallow and stare at the floor.

  “Tell me.”

  “I’m gross and my dad will be embarrassed of me.”

  “And?”

  “If anyone finds out, they’ll take me away from my brothers. They don’t let gross boys stay with their brothers.”

  “And?”

  “Your best friend is the boss of all the policemen. He’ll put me in jail too.”

  “Do you believe it?”

  I lift my gaze, chancing a look at him. His stare is hard, and he isn’t smiling at me. “Yes.”

  “Good boy.”

  * * *

  The past weighs me down, shackling me. I feel like a prisoner to it some days and the memories are my sentence. Hate, deep and unending, festers inside me. It’s a beast that cannot be killed. I don’t want to kill it. I want to free it and let it feed on that motherfucker. So often, I’m good at compartmentalizing and controlling where my brain goes. But with Poppy, it’s like my emotions are running rampant—both good and bad. I’m suffocating with all the air around me, free for the taking.

 
My lungs are clamped tight, refusing to suck in the air. Fuck, maybe it’s a panic attack. Whatever it is, when I get like this, I like to swim. The water frees my mind—frees my goddamn soul. Since I can’t breathe anyway, I can glide through the waters and calm my shuttering heart.

  Poppy must sense the change within me. She’s desperately attempting to hold on to me—figuratively and mentally. There’s no holding me back when I’m escaping him, though. I’m faster and smarter. Always two steps ahead. I tear from her grasp and leave her calling after me.

  “Camden!”

  I charge out of the too small cabin with the memories chasing my ass like fire on a gasoline trail. Once I’m above deck, I run over to the edge and dive into the dark waters. Now that it’s dark out, it’s like the water can suck you down and never let go.

  Sometimes I want that.

  I want to forget.

  I want to burn away every horrible memory of my past.

  Deep, deep, deep, I swim until the water becomes chilly and my chest burns with the need for air. Sucking in all the water and letting the current take me away is all it would take. The bad shit would drown with me. Losing my mom to our psychotic neighbor. My dad’s murder. The man I hate hurting me. My brother Hayden nearly losing his life.

  And her.

  Images of her head tilted back in pleasure as I fucked her in the small shower have me kicking. Memories of her plump lips pressed to mine have me swimming hard to the surface. Goddamn you, Poppy Beckett. I’m supposed to be using you in this game of revenge, but the things I want to do to you are far too sweet to be called such an ugly word.

  I break the surface and inhale a big gasp of air. Finally, I can breathe. Those memories don’t own my lungs and my heart. I’m stronger than them. The yacht bobs on the surface, the lights glowing on the water. A shadow paces along the deck and calls out for me. Then, I hear a splash. I swim over to where she’s jumped in. She treads water, the t-shirt glued to her. Once I reach her, I pull her to me.

  “I’m sorry,” she chokes out, her eyes glassy in the moonlight. She’s almost weightless as she wraps her body around mine. I easily swim in place, keeping us both afloat. Her fingers brush back my hair and she kisses my mouth. The way she kisses me is sad but insistent. As though her kiss has the power to fucking heal me. When her tongue seeks out mine, my mind gets lost to her. Maybe she does have some kind of power. I’m no longer thinking about the bad stuff. I’m thinking about how I want to fuck her right here in the water.