Cameron’s Bliss

Rideten, Present Time

Aislen grinned. “Is that right, Mr Wolf?” She purred stalking him over to the bed. “If I get it, I get to do whatever I like with it?”

Cameron’s lips curled in a smirk. “No. But I will do something you like with it.”

“Promises, promises,” she lunged for him, and he sidestepped so that she landed face-down on the mattress, before pinning her there with his body, his hands slowly drawing her hands up and holding them down to either side of her head whilst he nuzzled under the tangled sprawl of her wet curls to nibble along her shoulder and neck as her giggles gave way to soft moans as she closed her eyes and surrendered to his seduction.

He nudged her legs apart and her knees onto the edge of the mattress, lifting her hips from the mattress so that he could rub his cock against her cunt in a slow, hot tease whilst his teeth pricked little bloodspots along her neck, his tongue soothing away the little sting each time as it captured the droplets.

She could feel the slick of his pre-cum growing, lubricating his slide through her folds, or perhaps it was her own slick as she was ridiculously aroused. His hold on her wrists was just a little too tight for comfort but not tight enough to hurt – enough for her to register the strength of him, and what that did to make her heart race within her chest.

He was giving her what he wanted himself, she knew from his thoughts. That fine edge where control was taken away, but trust in his partner meant that there wasn’t fear, just a sense of relief, where pleasure or pain could be received and experienced with the freedom of having no responsibility. Escapism from the reality of their night.

As she let the helplessness of her position wash her into a state of pure sensation, she vowed that she would give it back to him, somehow, as soon as possible. He needed that mental break, his thoughts wandering to the playroom at the river house, to flashes of Talen’s face as their mate had made Cameron’s body his plaything, of Rhett, his dark-haired mate’s play rougher and less studied than Talen’s, or Heath, his sex-games mental and based on crossing comfort zones…

“Oh god,” she sobbed into the covers of the bed, turned on by Cameron’s erotic thoughts. “Fuck, you always do that to me.”

“What do I do?” He was surprised but amused, pleased because he knew her complaint was based in want.

“Your thoughts are always… so fucking sexy,” she admitted. “You picture it so clearly that it’s like it’s happening to me.”

“Is that so?” He was delighted and flicked through memories of so many erotic experiences, giving her flash after flash of moments. Some of them were surprisingly innocent, but how he’d felt at the time had not been. She saw herself as a teenager, her hair spread like dark ink in the river water, her top plastered to her skin showing the plain cotton bra that she wore beneath, and Rhett looking up from a sketch pad, the look in his eyes darkening and the curl of his lips lifting into a smirk, Heath standing before a mirror in waistcoat, crisp shirt, and suit pants, adjusting his tie, and Talen, looking down his long nose at someone who had displeased him, his eyes narrowed and the sunlight in his hair.

She saw Rhett, drunk, opening Cameron’s bedroom door and waking him from sleep, silhouetted against the hallway light as he caught hold of the frame and leaned in with a leer that Cameron knew would lead to all sorts of sexual torment. Heath, sweating from wielding a whip, close-up as he dragged Cameron’s head back by the hair and kissed him hard. Talen, surrounded by the green leaves of trees, over Cameron holding their cock’s together, his arm muscles straining the fabric of his shirt.

And herself, in the locker room of the MegaStore, laid back over the bench and her eyes meeting his, those first few, heady moments of the bond being free of the constriction of her wards for the first time…

“Fuck,” she clawed the covers as she came, her cunt clenching on its emptiness, and he laughed hoarsely, covering for the fact that his memories had almost brought him undone as much as they had done her.

“I want you,” she tried to roll, and he loosened his grip momentary to allow her to turn and face him before recapturing her wrists. She nipped her teeth onto his bottom lip without breaking skin, sucking it into her mouth before releasing it. “I want you in me Cam,” she was feeling wild and wicked. “But I want you to do that thing…” She sent to him the clear memory of Rhett in the hallway, his skin giving to fur, his cock pressing against her pelvis as he swelled so that he could not pull free, and then Heath, his eyes wild with his wolf as he knotted within her.

“I want you to do that,” she told Cameron breathlessly.

“Shit.” He wanted to. He wanted to do it, ached to do it, but was scared that he would hurt her, caught between beast and man.

“So?” She challenged him, arching up to steal kisses. “So, you lose control for a moment, and I hurt for a moment. It will be the good type of hurt, and I’m a hybrid, just like you. You’re not going to tear my cunt apart or cause me to miscarry, you’re just going to…” Swell until she was so full of him that her body was overwhelmed with the sensation so that her clit reached heaven, and so that she was stuffed with him…

She put those thoughts into his head.

“Not fair,” he complained his lips against hers and his breath tasting of his want. He wanted to knot in her like that, to thrust and feel the drag of flesh wedged tight beyond her pelvic bone, to know that he was deeper, fuller, and to feel her clench around him. In his mind, he remembered watching as Heath had taken Rhett in such a way, the empty-eyed pleasure of Rhett in the moment, that raw moment where his face had registered it as “too much” and then his body had submitted to it, proving that his mind’s caution had been too early.

“Shit Aislen,” wasn’t a protest, but a plea, and her eyes met his with a grin.

“Let go, Cam,” she said. “Let it go. Do what your body wants to do. I’m ready for it.”

His inhalation was ragged, and he dropped his forehead to hers, his wolf leaping to his eyes, and his expression shifting ever so slightly into predatory, so that her heart picked up rhythm sending a rush of blood through her body, throbbing through her cunt. He growled his groan, his eyes losing focus momentarily. Under her fingers, there was rise of fur along his limbs as he fought for balance between beast and man.

She felt the pressure within her grow, his thrusts slowing as her cunt gripped his cock tighter, his flesh filling her with the swelling of his knot, followed by a jolt and tug as it lodged behind her pelvis. His groan of pleasure was brutal and torn free as he gave to baser instinct and fucked into that hold, his thrust pressing her into the mattress, the pull dragging her hips up…

The bed shook and his claws pierced the mattress, dragging down, sending up puffs of broken fibre as he used the grip for traction, driving himself against her, losing himself in the beast within, and his expression washing into bliss. She experienced it with him, the slick grip of her around his cock, the tightness, the build-up of pressure as he neared orgasm crossing into a stinging pain that was glorious.

And she came, his name on her lips, and her head thrown back in ecstasy, the clutch of her around his cock causing him to cry out, a desperate cry, as his cum flooded from him.