Cameron Wants to Be a Hero (Love Austen 2)

Cameron gripped Henry’s pulsing length and rhythmically worked his mouth around the head. Henry groaned and tightened his fingers in his hair.

Cameron took in Henry’s arching body, his pleasure-pinched face. His cock rubbed against blankets and legs; Henry groaned and thrust down his throat. The erotic urgency of it threw Cameron over the edge, and he came over Henry’s thigh.

Henry’s leg twitched. He’d felt it. Another thrust pushed down his throat and Henry let out a short cry, swelling in Cameron’s mouth.

They kissed and cleaned up then fell back into bed, naked and laughing. They cuddled comfortably, and Henry picked up Cameron’s book and read a few chapters aloud. Then he dropped it and rolled onto Cameron.

“You’re looking a little distracted, beautiful. Disappointed?”

Cameron blinked up at him, relishing the weight of Henry’s body. “I’m not!” He stopped. “Maybe I wish I hadn’t come so fast.”

Henry hummed thoughtfully. “Why is that?”

“You were supposed to have me.”

“I hope you don’t think we’re finished.”

“We’re not?”

Playfulness twinkled in his eyes, and they were kissing again.

Tension and eagerness spiraled together, a caduceus of conflicting emotion growing as they rocked. The friction created by the suction at his throat and Henry’s curls tickling his face tantalized him. Cameron buckled, gasping for more. “Please, Henry.”

“Please, what?”

“Solve this mystery with me.”

Henry moved urgently over him, eyes darkened with desire, kisses deep and demanding.

The bed rocked. Sunshine peeked out and threw gold over them. The lube was opened and slippery fingers nudged his entrance.

Exhilaration coursed through him. Their eyes met, and Henry pushed inside him. Cameron’s head rolled back and he spread his legs wider.

Henry kissed his neck. Cameron’s hands glided over strong shoulder blades and rocking hips.

More fingers plunged into him. He was used to exploring with toys, but the wiggly heat of Henry’s fingers combined with the hot breath at his shoulder threw him into another dimension. He’d imagined this the first night they’d met. Ached to feel the contours of Henry’s body molding to his back.

“Henry. I want to roll on my front.”

Henry guided him around. The stirring air over his newly exposed skin made him shiver. The sound of the condom wrapper tearing intensified it.

His cock shifted over soft sheets and firm mattress, and he spread his limbs, owning the bed. Cameron was sexual. He was horny. He had ached to be consumed by lust. Yearned for all reason to give way to base desires. To let free his dirty mind.

Henry’s weight settled heavily over him, hot cock prodding insistently at his ass. Lube dribbled over his crack. Cameron held out his hand for some and cuffed his cock under him.

He writhed and Henry rocked, deeper and deeper until his shaft rubbed against Cameron’s tight hole.

Cameron angled his hips, and each grind back and forth had Henry edging him. His ring stretched bit by eager bit, ready to welcome Henry inside.

His cock pulsed as it rubbed over the ribbing of his fingers. He imagined how Henry enjoyed being behind him. Getting closer and closer, and—

Henry breached him.

Cameron gripped the blankets and squeezed his cock at the sting.

Henry nuzzled kisses at his nape, and waited, giving Cameron’s pulsing ass time to adjust. “You feel incredible.”

“I think you mean niiiiiice.”

Laughter puddled at the base of his hair, and Cameron moaned. He felt Henry hard and twitching, needing to move.

“Please,” Cameron whispered.

“God.” Henry pushed inside, inch after inch, and Cameron felt wonderfully full.

Cameron turned his head and their lips locked messily. Awkward, but Cameron didn’t care. He needed the taste of Henry’s groan.

Lips dragged to Cameron’s hair. Hot breath warmed his roots as Henry thrust back and forth shallowly.

Chest hair and hard chest pressed against Cameron, shifting as Henry teased his prostate.

Cameron was already close from the visceral, raw sensation of it. Each glide over his tightly webbed fingers synchronized with Henry. Their huffs and grunts made him harder. The bounce of their balls, harder than that.

A million nerve-endings crashed pleasurably against each other. Henry surged deeply into him again and he saw stars.

He wanted this forever. He wanted Henry to own his body like he did his heart. He wanted to feel the pain and the pleasure of it. He wanted to be stretched. He wanted to be fucked.

Henry responded to his garbled pleas, hauling Cameron upright and clasping him against his chest. The snap of hips drove Henry deeper inside him. Cameron gasped, head falling back onto Henry’s shoulder. His rigid cock bounced in time to Henry’s bucks, the air sinful around his leaking tip.

A wild rhythm consumed them.

Henry dragged his teeth along Cameron’s shoulder and clasped his hips. He plunged in and out of him, torturing Cameron with slow-building pleasure that mounted, and mounted, and mounted.

Henry’s sure thrusts and swivels had Cameron lifting higher. He was a rising wave. Henry’s firm hand wrapping around him had him cresting, and the unbearably perfect strokes rushed him to shore.