by May Archer
His man deserved perfection, and perfection was what Cort would give him.
His man.
His brain stuttered at the thought, but he put it aside to consider later. For now, he’d concentrate on showing Cam his faith in Cort was justified.
Chapter Fourteen
Cort smiled softly, and his hands began tracing the curves of Cam’s ass again. Cam’s hips jutted forward instinctively.
“I’m gonna take care of you, Cam,” he murmured.
Cort leaned down, capturing Cam’s mouth in a fast, searing kiss. Then his lips ghosted across Cam’s jaw, and his teeth clamped down lightly on Cam’s earlobe. Cam exhaled with a shudder. “I’m going to make you feel so good.”
Cam was already feeling good. Downright delirious, in fact. He was still dimly aware that he was on a plane, but his panic had been replaced by an almost fatalistic determination. If something awful happened, if he died, then he would die this way, with his arms wrapped around Cort’s shoulders with blazing trails of fire snaking up and down his spine. “More,” he told Cort. More of everything. More of Cort’s hands curling around his ass, more of Cort’s cock rocking against his own, more of the feeling that Cort was focused entirely on him.
Cort thrust against Cam once more, and then spun him to face away. His hands swept around to Cam’s stomach, and then separated, one trailing up to toy with Cam’s nipple, while the other went lower… and lower.
“More of this?” Cort demanded, his open mouth sliding over the tendon at the base of Cam’s neck. “Or more of this?”
Cort’s hand trailed gently - way too gently - up and down Cam’s cock. Cam thrust into Cort’s hand and moaned as Cort chuckled.
He gripped Cam more firmly with one hand, while the other moved from Cam’s chest to his back and pushed gently between Cam’s shoulder blades, forcing him to bend. Cam grabbed the back of the couch, his knees coming to rest on the cushions where they’d been sitting, while Cort’s mouth brushed soft, teasing kisses down Cam’s spine, dipping his tongue into the grooves above his ass.
“You like this?” he asked. Cam made an inarticulate pleading noise as Cort’s hand stroked him off from behind.
Then Cort sank to his knees on the floor, and both of his hands were on Cam’s ass again, spreading him. He licked a path along the sensitive skin between Cam’s balls and his ass. Oh, Jesus, yes.
“Or maybe you want me to do this.”
Cort’s thumb found Cam’s opening and stroked over it once, twice. Cam whined, honest-to-God whined, and felt dimly perhaps he should be embarrassed by his needy noise, but he couldn’t work himself around to it. Cort seemed to totally get off on it, from the way his fingers tightened on Cam’s skin. Cam rocked against nothing and waited for what seemed like eternity, and then Cort’s tongue found his opening, and Cam nearly lost his grip on reality.
Cort licked, swirled, and sucked, and Cam’s entire consciousness became focused on that one place, on the sensations Cort was rousing in him. Then Cort’s spit-slicked finger joined the mix, and Cam gasped. It had been so long.
“Fuck, you’re tight, baby,” Cort said, but his voice was a low growl of approval and Cam fought to relax. Cort fumbled around for his fly, and a moment later, Cam felt a cold dribble of liquid trickle between his cheeks. Travel lube. Cort obviously came prepared, but Cam couldn’t fully process the realization because Cort added a second finger, pushing in more completely, stretching Cam further. Cam gave himself over to the burning sensation, willing himself to open. He wanted this. God, he needed this. He couldn’t believe how far gone he was already. He bit his lip to keep from whining again.
“Talk to me, Cam,” Cort demanded, pulling back to nip at the curve of Cam’s ass. “I want to hear what I’m doing to you.” Cort’s voice, wrecked with lust, was like a siren’s call, and Cam was compelled to answer.
“It’s so good, Cort. Just like that.” He bit his lip against another moan.
“Don’t stop yourself,” Cort commanded. “I want to hear those fucking sexy moans. I want to know I’m driving you crazy the way you drive me crazy. I want to know you’re as gone for me as I am for you. You understand?”
Cam nodded. Cort turned his hand and curved his fingers just slightly, tagging Cam’s prostate and oh holy fuck, Cam couldn’t have helped the moan escaping from him even if he’d tried. “Cort, Cort, Cort,” he chanted breathlessly, over and over again, like a mantra, like a prayer. The path to enlightenment was Cort.
“Who’s taking care of you?” Cort demanded, as his fingers continued to move in and out.
“You are!”
“Who owns you?”
Oh. Oh, God. Cam knew what Cort wanted, and an electric thrill traveled from his belly to his dick. They were only words, and he’d said them before. But this same time, he hesitated. Every time he spoke them, they meant something more, became more of an expectation. Was that the kind of relationship Cort really wanted? To own Cam that completely? Did Cort even know what he was asking?
Did it matter right now?
Risking meant offering something when there was no guarantee. And already, Cort had given him more than he’d ever been given by any partner. Cort saw him as strong, even when he felt weak, and somehow seeing himself through Cort’s eyes made him stronger. Seavers never gave in, but giving Cort control didn’t feel like giving in, it was more like yielding, bending.
“You do,” he replied.
“Yeah, I do,” he whispered, as he rose to his feet behind Cam and curled himself over Cam’s back to lay a kiss at his nape. “Yes, I fucking do.”
But for how long? Cam banished the thought from his mind almost as quickly as it appeared. He was standing naked, bent over a sofa, with the hottest man he’d ever laid eyes on, in an airplane for the first time in forever. If there was ever a time to live in the moment and not worry about the future, this was it.
Cort’s hand trailed down Cam’s spine once more, and then he reached down for the supplies he’d left on the floor. Cam heard the rip of the condom wrapper and then felt Cort’s fingers again, slicking his entrance.
“Do it now, Cort. Now, please.”
A second later, the broad head of Cort’s cock was pushing in, stretching him until Cam was utterly filled.
“Oh, fuck,” Cort moaned.
Exactly what Cam was thinking. He braced his arms harder against the back of the sofa as Cort’s hands found Cam’s hips and held him tightly. Cort began to move against him, harder and faster, pulling back then filling him up. It was monumental. It was earth shattering. It was unbelievably perfect.
“Cam. God, you’re so tight. So perfect.” The words were mindless, but the low, gravel-filled, lust-wrecked tone traveled straight to Cam’s cock. He let his head hang down and gave himself over to Cort’s movements, bracing them both.
Cort’s hands came up to trace lazy patterns on Cam’s skin as he moved, faster then slower, as though Cort was mapping his body, laying claim to every inch of his flesh. Up his back, over his shoulders, around to his chest, and then down his stomach. When Cort was bent over him completely, his warm breath in Cam’s ear, his hand reached for Cam’s cock and slowly began to stroke in time with his thrusts.
No more words needed to be said between them. Cam let himself become lost completely, a vessel for Cort’s pleasure. Cort was utterly focused on Cam, reading every sign of his body as he showed him without words how perfect they could be together.
Cam bit his lip as the combination of physical pleasure and emotional release built inside him. It was too much, too much for him to hold onto. The steady slap of flesh against flesh filled the air, and Cam spread his knees further apart, opening himself further.
“Please don’t stop,” he plead. “Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.”
“Oh, Christ, Cam. I won’t. I can’t. You are the only one, the only thing. It’s never been like this before. No other. Not ever.”
The babbled whispers made Cam’s chest swell. He wanted to be Cort’s onl
y one. He wanted to be the only one who could make Cort this inarticulate and uncontrolled.
Cort spread his legs and changed the angle of his thrusts, so he tagged Cam’s prostate with each pass of his hard cock. Cam saw stars, and felt his body start to sway.
“Hang on, Cam. Hang on for me,” Cort told him, stroking him faster, his thumb swiping the head of Cam’s cock and spreading the copious amount of precum gathering there.
He wanted to obey Cort, wanted to wait, but his pleasure was climbing higher with every single movement of the man behind him.
“I’m so close. I’m so close,” Cam began, then moaned as Cort’s hand slapped against his ass.
“You wait for me, Cam. You hear me, baby? You don’t come until I say. Wait for me.”
Cam bit his lip and his eyes rolled back in his head. He’d never felt sensations like this, layer upon layer, more than he could stand. Had anyone ever known him this well? Had anyone ever understood exactly how to reach him, beyond the perfection of the hand stroking his dick and the exquisite rhythm Cort had set? Cort knew how to reach his heart, the part of him that wanted to be taken, owned, loved.
“Oh, fuck, Cam! I am so close, baby. This ass is perfection. I love the way you wait for me, the way you obey me. The way you give yourself to me so perfectly. Jesus.”
Cam let out a low moan. He couldn’t hang on much longer. And then Cort slid out of him completely and braced his hands on Cam’s hips again.
“Turn over,” he said. “And lay down on the couch.”
Cam lay on his back on the leather couch while Cort hovered over him, sweat-darkened tendrils of his dark gold hair falling against his cheeks and green eyes glowing with need. He allowed Cort to arrange his pliant limbs exactly as he wanted them, so Cam’s knees were drawn up to his chest and his feet were braced over Cort’s broad shoulders.
“I want you like this. I want you to see me while I’m fucking you. I want you to look at me when I make you come, and I want you to scream. My. Name.”
Before Cam could process the words, Cort was sliding back inside him, filling every empty inch of him. Cort braced himself over Cam with one hand on the cushions, then bent down to kiss Cam, sucking his tongue into his mouth.
Cam reached down to grab his dick, needing more friction, but Cort slapped his hand away wrapping his own around it instead.
“This is mine now, Cam. You come when I tell you, remember?”
Jesus, that should not have sounded as good as it did, but Cam was beyond caring about what he should want and what should turn him on. All he wanted was this man, just like this, forever.
Cort’s thrusts picked up speed, faster and faster, each twist of his hips brushing his cock against Cam’s prostate, making his eyes roll back in his head. He could feel his balls drawing up tight and felt his orgasm barreling towards him.
“Oh, God. Cort! Please! It’s got to be now. You’ve got to let me!” Cam’s voice was high-pitched with need and lust so acute it was anguish.
Cort’s hand moved faster and faster over Cam’s well-lubricated cock. “Come for me now, Cam, and then I’ll come for you.”
Once again, Cam’s cock obeyed Cort’s orders directly, bypassing his own brain entirely. No sooner had Cort spoken the words, given his permission, then Cam was coming, semen shooting over his stomach.
Cort paused to trail a finger through the evidence of Cam’s pleasure and tasted it. “So fucking sweet, Cam.”
Cam’s sated dick twitched at the blatant approval in his tone, even as Cort got back to business, moving faster again inside Cam, chasing his own release. God, the feeling was exquisite - pleasure and pain combined, and Cam loved the look on Cort’s face as he used Cam, his green eyes staring down into Cam’s as though Cam was the most important thing in the universe to him right there and then. This this this. Forever and ever and ever.
Cort pulled out of him gently, his hands braced on Cam’s thighs, and then he was ripping off the condom and jerking himself, his cum joining Cam’s on his stomach.
He lowered himself over Cam, plastering their chests together.
They were both panting as if they’d run for miles, smiling at each other like lunatics. Cam couldn’t help but laugh at the satisfied grin on his man’s face.
It was silly, it was crazy. The wrong time, the wrong place, with way, way too many unanswered questions for becoming involved with Cort to be a rational decision. But maybe Cort was right. Maybe the truest things didn’t run on logic, anyway.
Chapter Fifteen
The plane touched down on the small island of St. Brigitte with no fanfare. When the captain had announced over the loudspeaker that they were preparing for landing, Cam had done nothing more than shift his hips slightly, so Cort could buckle his seatbelt around him, and then leaned back against the cushions with his eyes closed once again. Cort watched Cam as he lay sprawled on the couch, his thighs draped over Cort’s lap, but Cam didn’t even seem to notice they were losing altitude until the plane bumped down on the runway and began to slow.
“Smooth landing,” Cort remarked as the plane began to taxi.
Cam’s eyes opened slowly and he gave Cort a sleepy, knowing smirk. “If you wanna call it that.”
Cort rolled his eyes and Cam laughed. “I can’t believe how relaxed I was during that flight.”
“You need me to relax you before every flight, badass, I can make arrangements.”
“Is that right? I don’t know if I could afford you.”
“For you? My rates are very, very reasonable. I’ll take it out on your ass.”
Cam snickered as if he was half-drunk. Maybe he was. God knew, the endorphins cruising through Cort’s bloodstream right now were beyond anything he’d ever achieved with alcohol.
The plane taxied to a halt, and Cort tried to get his mind in order. The interlude on the plane had been incredible - so amazing it was hard for him to remember this wasn’t why he was here.
Not entirely.
But he couldn’t lie and say things hadn’t changed either. He’d help Damon get his life back, help figure out who’d really caused the crash, but maybe, just maybe, there was a way he could keep Cam, too.
Cort sat up straighter. Cam frowned slightly, but seemed to take his cue, swinging his legs off the sofa and placing his feet on the floor.
Andres arrived to open the cabin door as they finally came to a stop, and Cort could see the early-evening sunlight gilding the palm trees, the small one-story white and blue hangar, and the white surface of the runway outside the door. He wondered if Damon would meet him here and now, or whether he’d call him later. Either way, he was confident Damon had a plan, and since Damon was most likely here already, Cort would be ready and waiting to follow his lead.
Cort reached over to unfasten Cam’s seatbelt, then unfastened his own and stood to stretch, feeling his shirt ride up. He scratched the surface of his stomach absently, feeling the sticky remnants of the mind-blowing orgasms they’d shared only an hour ago. Though he and Cam had cleaned up as best they could in the tiny bathroom, Cam hadn’t been kidding when he’d said there was no tub on board and it was impossible to get really clean. Still, Cort couldn’t bring himself to care very much - he liked knowing he was wearing the evidence on himself, and he liked even better knowing Cam was, too.
Cam had started for the doorway, but turned back hesitantly to look at Cort, as though unsure whether or not he should wait for him. Cort conjured up a reassuring smile and held out his hand, which Cam grabbed eagerly. He let Cam lead him down the steps to the tarmac.
Cort felt a pang of something he couldn’t quite identify as he felt Cam’s smaller hand in his own. In a way, it was everything right and good - which was weird enough in a man who’d shied away from commitment as much as Cort had during his entire adult life. This thing building between him and Cam was real. He wasn’t sure how it had happened, or why, but it was as real as anything else Cort knew, and he genuinely cared about Cam more than he’d ever cared about anyo
ne... except Damon.
“Camden!” A smiling woman who Cort vaguely recognized from the ballroom the other night strode forward to greet them with outstretched hands. “It’s so very, very good to see you, dear.”
“Mrs. Tyndall,” Cam said, dropping Cort’s hand so he could grip her gently by the arms and lean forward to kiss her cheek. “I didn’t expect you to come out to meet us.”
“Well,” she said in a conspiratorial tone. “I generally don’t, but I asked them to alert me when your plane would be arriving so I could greet you myself. You’ve always been one of my favorites. Gerry and I are so glad you were able to make it.”
Cam smiled. Mrs. Tyndall glanced around, and then back at the plane, as though expecting someone else. “Is your brother not with you?”
“Oh, uh. No. Bas still won’t be coming. I’m sorry if that message was mixed up, somehow.”
Mrs. Tyndall frowned. “Oh, but I was sure…” She waved a hand dismissively. “Ah, well. Never get old, boys.” Her smile was rueful as she turned her attention to Cort. “And who might you be, young man?”
Cort grinned. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been called a young man.
Cam’s hand went around Cort’s waist. “This is Kendrick Cortland.”
Cort could sense Cam’s hesitation over how to introduce him - what title to give him. They weren’t dating, there was no easy description, so Cort understood the dilemma, but it annoyed him anyway.
The woman was middle aged, but stylish, in an airy white dress which flowed around her despite the heat and humidity weighing down the air. Her smile was genuine and friendly - far more than Cort had expected to find in someone who had a charity named after her, but then, Cort was coming to realize that judging someone based on the size of their bank account was pretty fucking stupid, no matter which side of the income bracket you stood on.
