Seductive Secrecy (Shadows series) (2 page)

BOOK: Seductive Secrecy (Shadows series)
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The wall of glass that separated the shower from the rest of the bathroom began to fog, and the marble under my feet turned warm. Cameron had designed this shower himself, and like everything else he created, it was truly a work of art. It was also one of my favorite places in the apartment, a sanctuary overlooking different sections of the Back Bay from the cut-out windows that wrapped around the top, middle and bottom of the shower. Cameron and I had spent a great deal of time in here together—not just to clean the splatters of
paint from our bodies, but to hear each other’s' voices echo
throughout
this space. When we were in here, we wouldn’t allow anything else
in—no other voices, no negativity, no memories. Just us, and the present.

My skin was sweating under the shower flow. Drops of scalding water ran off my body. The places that were being hit directly by the jets had turned bright red. But none of it could warm the chill that continued to spread beneath my flesh.

Six months had passed since I’d left the mansion. I didn’t think about it as much as I used to, but when something inspired those thoughts and unexpected moments of panic—something like the mirrored floor in the painting—I had a hard time calming down. I still had a lot of darkness to deal with; I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to process what I had done there, what I had allowed to happen…or how much I had once enjoyed it. Part of me didn’t want to take it back; part of me could barely keep down the bile that threatened to rise when I remembered what it felt like to have my best friend’s father in my ass. But that time in my life had gotten me
here
and I
was
here, unlike some of the girls I had shared that
house with. And I had my painting, a form of expression that allowed me to exorcise the darkness as best I could when it arose. There were moments, though, when all it did was rouse those demons further instead of lulling them to sleep.

This was one of those moments.

I moved closer to one of the shower heads and pressed my hands against the cold marble that tiled the wall, leaning into the stream of water. It massaged the top of my head, and I could taste the product that drizzled from my hair—the spray I had used to hold my curls and the oil that gave it shine.

A spot of light broke through the shadows.

Just breathe, Charlie
.
Close your eyes and let the water bring you to a quiet, contented place
.

The drops that filled my ears blocked any noise that was around me, but it didn’t stop Emma’s voice from entering. I heard her for the first time shortly after I had left the mansion. It didn’t happen every day; she only arrived when I needed her guidance. She was my voice of reason.

Taking her advice, I closed my eyes, inhaled the steam and tried to find a place of relaxation—a place where the terrifying images and imagined screams from those innocent girls would quiet to a dull moan. And just as I found it, just as my palms stopped kneading against the stone and my back stopped pumping and arching to find that place of complete comfort, just as I had finally acclimated to the
temperature of the water, I felt Cameron’s arms wrap around my
chest.
His hands cupped each of my breasts, his thumbs grazing my
nipples.

Another light.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” he whispered into my neck. His lips followed his words to my skin, his tongue circling the spot just to the side of my throat. It didn’t matter how often Cameron had roamed my body, or how many times. It always felt so new, so unexpected.

“You need your sleep,” I told him. As soon as he touched me, I
lost
my voice completely. All I had were my desires, and they consumed
me.

“I need you more,” he breathed.

The wetness between my legs began to spread to the inside of my thighs as Cameron’s breath trickled over my skin. His touch became rougher and needier as it lowered to my stomach and stopped just at the bottom of my hips. His mouth moved to my back, sweeping over my shoulder blades and slowly down my spine. The combination of the water drumming against my flesh and his moist, soft lips weakened my balance.

“Next time you find me sleeping on the couch,” he whispered, his fingers dropping even farther until they landed at the very top of my clit, “I want you to wake me with this.”

I stopped breathing and held the air in my lungs as the tingles coursed through my stomach and spread to my legs, to my toes, and then back up again. My pussy had throbbed long before his hand had found it. Now it trembled even more, begging for his friction, for more rubbing, for more…Cameron.

“When I opened my eyes, I wanted you on my lips. I wanted your pussy waiting for me so I could eat it without having to wait.”

His words made my body shiver, and my legs spread on their own. I reached behind my neck and tugged on the back of his head, pulling him closer, wanting to feel his hardness, his skin, his frame against me. His arm traveled past my neck and landed on the wall;
he squeezed his fingers between mine. His lips pressed short,
seductive
kisses on my cheeks, and his other hand circled in a slow, teasing
rhythm.

“I need to hear you come,” he breathed.

I responded by turning around, meeting the face that aroused me just as much as his fingers did. His icy baby blue eyes wandered over my body. He saw me naked every day, but the expression he wore as he looked at me was the same as the first time he had stripped my clothes off. And his reaction
a tantalizing tug of his lip as he sucked it into his mouth, an increase in the pressure of his hand, breath that was released in heavy spurts
told me he was still enchanted by my bareness.

His fingers left me and moved to my thighs, lifting one and
wrapping it around his waist. Then he raised the other off the
ground. My back pushed against the wall and my hands immediately went to his shoulders, clinging to the muscles that were too large for my palms. My grip was more out of habit; when Cameron held me in his arms, I knew I wasn’t going anywhere unless he wanted me to.

As I waited for him to fill me, my legs tightened around him. His hardness teased my cheeks and I ground against it. Cameron and I didn’t use condoms
I was also on the pill, and we had both been tested after my service at the mansion to make sure I wouldn’t expose him to anything I might have picked up from my clients
so I didn’t have any fear of his unprotected skin entering me. It was
exactly what I wanted, and my desire couldn’t have been any
clearer. It didn’t mean Cameron would simply give in, though. We both enjoyed the ache that built from a long, drawn-out tease. But only a few seconds had passed before he surrendered to the sound of me begging as I whispered in his ear.

The sensation that quickly consumed me wasn’t the one I had expected; it was generated from two of his fingers and the tip of his thumb circling my clit. He finally released his own bottom lip and
took in mine—not as a kiss; more as a lingering presence that kept
me
in the moment and reminded me of the control he had over my
body.

Control I gave him easily and willingly, but reclaimed whenever I wanted.

When his fingers began to pick up speed, I pulled my mouth away and leaned my neck against the wall.

“That’s it, baby,” he groaned. “Relax into me.”

I drove my nails into his shoulders and bound my legs even
tighter. As I rested on the tile, I allowed his movements to take me to that familiar place.

“Not yet.” His fingers slowed. “I want you to release
all
of it.”

Cameron knew that even if my mind was in a different place, my body could still have an orgasm. With him, the passion was able to escalate on its own without me needing to focus on his actions. That
was how completely he aroused me. He also knew I still thought
about the mansion, and that this was where my brain went when it drifted away from him. Not toward the memory of my clients or their embraces; those men meant nothing to me. It drifted toward the guilt instead, for what I had given to them and the feelings I had for
Cameron that had been growing simultaneously. When that
happened,
when those emotions worked their way in, I wasn’t able to
concentrate solely on him anymore.

“Look at me,” he demanded.

Our gazes met and the intensity of his stare, the knowing of what he wanted and how my moans were turning his breathing into deep grunts, brought me even further.

“You let me shatter that glass.”

The painting
.

I hadn’t tried to hide it. I didn’t hide anything from him
anymore. And he was the reason I had left, one of the reasons I was free.

Instead of agreeing, a pant of pleasure came from my mouth.

“Now let it go, Charlie. Let me shatter you.”

The build was a steady climb that started in my lower stomach, increasing with each rotation. His hands were so skilled; it almost felt as good as his tongue. He took a step back so I could arch my body, pushing my head into the marble, my fingers stabbing his skin. I bounced with each stroke, my pussy clenching around him, letting the friction lead me toward the peak. And once I got there, there was a moment when everything inside of me turned taut, throbbing for several beats before I melted around his fingers.

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