Uncovering Camila (Wildflowers Book 3) (9 page)

Chapter 22

Camila rests her forehead against Marshall’s as wave after wave of her orgasm washes through her body. His cock softens inside of her when she starts to lift herself off of him, her legs and knees stiff from the position.

“I should be getting back,” she says, catching her breath.

Marshall stands and tucks away his diminishing erection. He curls a hand around the back of Camila’s head and pulls her in for a kiss. “Why?” He asks when they come up for air. “Who’s here that you have to see?”

Camila looks toward the party that appears real to her again, as if the characters jumped out of the screen. Time has returned to its familiar pace, the minutes feeling like seconds until it rushes past everyone. “My cousin is around here somewhere.”

“Shosh is here?” Marshall asks, following Camila back to the party. As soon as they reach the periphery of the party, he grabs her hand. Camila turns and reads the question on his face. As soon as she nods, he pulls her to him and lays a kiss on her that takes all her breath and fills her with a fire that makes her forget where she is.

“I need to go,” Camila murmurs to Marshall, forcing herself to step back and put some space between them. If she doesn’t do it now, she’ll find herself ready to take him on the bench again soon.

“I want to meet that cousin of yours.”

“I’ve no doubt she’ll want to meet you too.”

They search the grounds and the house for forty-five minutes and are ready to give up when Camila runs into her Uncle.

“I’m looking for Shosh. Have you seen her?”

“Last time I saw her she was with you,” he replies, eyeing Marshall. “Is this a friend of yours?”

“Huh? Oh, him,” she says motioning toward Marshall. “We, uh, know each other from school. He just happened to be here too.”

“Did you try her cell?”

Camila nods. “A few times. She hasn’t answered.”

“Well, she never stays at these parties long. She probably went home,” he says, unconcerned.

“Okay, I’ll head home and look for her. I’m pretty tired anyway.” The reason for her fatigue makes her smile on the inside. She catches Marshall’s eye.

Her Uncle places a kiss on her cheek. “Alright. Have her call me when you see her.” Then he turns to Marshall. “You alright to drive?”

Marshall nods. “Perfectly, sir.”

Her uncle holds out a hand. “Arthur Cohen. And you are?”

“Marshall James,” he replies, giving a firm handshake.

“You Warren’s son? I heard you were headed up to Cambridge.”

“Change of plans. NYU made me a better offer.”

Her Uncle notices Marshall glance at Camila. He suppresses a smile. “Well, I’ll let you two get on with your evening.”

“Shosh,” Camila calls out when she walks into the house. Marshall closes the door behind him. “I’ll go check her room,” she says.

Minutes later, she comes downstairs, relieved and thankful her cousin is so predictable. “She’s asleep,” she informs him. She takes out her phone to text her Uncle. When Camila looks up, she sees Marshall watching her intently.

“What?”

“I like this thing you have with your family. It’s nice. I didn’t have anything like it growing up.”

“No cousins or anything?”

He shakes his head. “I’d see them at the occasional family reunion, but that was rare. I had nannies until I was old enough to walk to school, and then it was just my friends to keep me company.”

“Who keeps you company now?” Camila hears herself ask him.

The answer he gives her is an unfamiliar smile. It’s sexy and devious. He raises an eyebrow. “Well, this weekend is entirely unexpected.” Marshall stalks toward her, closing the five feet of distance between them in two long strides. “I seem to be fortunate enough to have stumbled upon the best kind of company.”

“Oh yeah?” Camila mirrors his smile. Something about the big empty house, hours away from the City, makes her want to push away the limitations on her life that will return in a few short days. “What kind is that?”

Marshall gathers up her dress and cups her ass. Squeezing he says, “This kind.”

Camila expects a kiss to follow, but it doesn’t. “Come home with me,” he whispers into her ear.

She hesitates, her fear once again surfacing, threatening to choke her. She wants to run upstairs and hide in that beautiful bathroom, to satisfy herself that those fifteen minutes on the bench were enough.

Truth and dare
.

The truth is, those fifteen minutes weren’t enough. And she knows what she needs to do to complete the dare. Camila steps back, forcing Marshall to release his hold. Without another look, she races to her room to change out of her dress.

Chapter 23

“I didn’t know what to think when you ran off,” Marshall says, his hand gripping Camila’s thigh before releasing it to downshift. She shouldn’t be surprised that the son of a judge and law firm partner drives a German sports car. It doesn’t totally fit with the law school Professor image, but so much about him doesn’t. It occurs to Camila then that it makes it all the more perfect. They can forget about law school and the City and be whoever they want to be tonight. She’s daring to be C.C., a bartender from New York who happens to be in Southampton with her father’s family for the weekend. And she’s going home with a hot guy she met at a stuffy party attended by a few hundred of the City’s privileged elite.

Marshall pulls into a long, circular stone driveway that curves around to a center circle with a large, fragrant Linden tree in the middle, its star-shaped flowers in full bloom. He continues past the main house, which rivals the size of the Cohen’s, and stops in front of an adjacent guesthouse. He turns off the car and looks over at Camila, matching her silence. They’ve talked a good part of the night. At some point, talking just becomes noise.

The way Marshall stares at Camila when they reach the door makes her shiver with anticipation. Her silence made him realize tonight wouldn’t be like that morning at her apartment or that blissful moment on the bench. Something in the way she didn’t speak, the way she looked at him with her curious eyes when she came downstairs told him that it would be different, she would be different. His gaze tells her he’ll give her what she wants. She only has to ask.

When they enter the home, its sumptuous white interior with navy accents reminds Camila of a villa she once stayed at in the Bahamas with her cousin. Beyond the great room lie a lounge and a small eat-in kitchen. There are two bedrooms on either side of the corridor which leads to a private terrace with a fireplace and large hammock.

Marshall waits for Camila’s signal. He doesn’t want to consider what she’s planning. She heads for the kitchen and goes through the cupboards, grateful it’s as well-stocked as the Cohen’s. People in the Hamptons always seem prepared for the event of a hurricane or natural disaster. She takes a few items and heads for the master suite. A few minutes later, Camila calls to him. “Ready?”

Wordlessly, he moves toward the bedroom.

By the time he reaches the bedroom, Camila is stripped down to nothing, her clothes laid out neatly on the chaise beside the French doors. Marshall swallows, unable to take his eyes off of her. It’s not as if he hasn’t seen her naked before, but the way she’s standing there, at the edge of the bed, waiting for him, awakens a yearning to know her. There’s nothing vulnerable about her nakedness. On the contrary, it’s strong and self-assured. She knows what she wants, and Marshall wants to thank every god in the spectrum of gods that she wants it with him.

“What are you waiting for?” She asks.

He covers the space between them in less time than it takes for him to draw a breath. Camila unbuttons his light coral shirt as she holds his gaze. Only when she pushes it off his shoulders does she allow her eyes to move over his body. It’s taking all the willpower she has not to push him onto the loveseat at the edge of the bed and straddle him like she did earlier. The sight of his strong shoulders and defined torso pushes that urge to the surface. Her tongue darts out, and she runs it along her lower lip. A low growl comes from the back of his throat. If only she understood how hard Marshall has to work at not touching her, at giving Camila the space to create her fantasy with him. He wills his cock to stay down, to wait until she takes him in her hands and into her mouth.

She tosses his shirt over the arm of a chair and sets to work unhooking his pants. He steps out of his trousers which she tosses in the general direction of his shirt. Rather than continue with the undressing, Camila runs her hands up his smooth chest and down his arms. The light touch of her fingertips makes Marshall shiver imperceptibly. He could come just by her touch.

Camila lowers herself slowly onto her knees, pulling his trunks down along as she goes. Without a second look, she wraps her lips around him and takes him as far as she can. Every lick is deliberate. She wants this to feel good for him because she wants him to be just as purposeful and slow with her. Camila reaches up and plays with his balls as she continues to lick and suck, from the velvet soft head of his cock down to the hilt. Marshall begins to move in and out, matching her slow pace. He shuts his eyes as the sight of her on her knees slays him. She owns the moment with him, and if he’s not careful, he’ll come in no time.

Not that it should matter. It’s clear by her pace that she’s with him for the night. He tries not to consider what that means beyond the fact that this will be the best weekend of his life in recent years. Never has he been with a woman so in touch with her needs and her wants and so willing to take it. He groans when she licks a bit of cum off the tip of his shaft.

Fuck
. He’s getting closer. She pumps the base of his cock, her tempo increasing with his. He can feel his pleasure begin to uncoil at the base. Marshall opens his eyes and sees Camila watching him. She always liked oral, receiving usually more than giving. But the way Marshall receives excites her. He doesn’t choke her with his enthusiasm or control her movements like so many men. It makes her want to keep giving until he’s given back.

Marshall is on the edge, and Camila doesn’t seem to want to stop. He fully expected to lay her out on the bed and fuck her at the finish, but she doesn’t seem inclined to move. He gently caresses the side of her face and moves her hair behind her ear. “I’m close,” he murmurs.

He has his answer when Camila doesn’t release his cock from her mouth. Marshall closes his eyes again and allows the sensations to overwhelm him. He doesn’t have to hold back and wait for her. The only sound in the room is his pleasure and Camila giving it. She moves over his cock with such an intensity that it sends Marshall to that place where he can’t hold back anymore. With a fierce cry, he lets go and releases his hot cum into her mouth.

Chapter 24

Camila going down on Marshall was her truth. She likes him. Nothing more, nothing less.

As she gets up off the floor and spreads herself out on the bed, she’s daring herself to do something she’d never done before.

She motions for Marshall to come join her. He crawls up on her right, resisting every urge to kiss her. “How about a snack?” She asks.

“I can always eat,” he replies, his voice gravelly.

Camila pulls a thin rope from her bedroom curtains she’d tucked under the pillows along with the sleeping mask Shoshana had left for her.

“You like chocolate?” She asks.

“As a matter-of-fact, I do,” Marshall says, intrigued.

“So do I.” The low sultry way Camila says that makes him hiss. “You know what to do with this?” She hands him the rope.

He nods. “I got a merit badge in knot tying.”

“I should’ve known you were a boy scout,” Camila says. She moves over to give him room to sit up. Placing her wrists together, he sets about tying a knot that’s loose enough to not leave a mark, but tight enough to keep her from slipping out of them.

The image of her hands tied doesn’t turn him on like it does Camila. Although she isn’t doing this for sexual pleasure as much as she is to force herself to let go a little more and give up the illusion of control she’s clung to for so long. 

“How long do you want to be this way,” Marshall asks, tugging lightly on the rope.

Camila looks up from her hands and shrugs. “Long enough.” She scoots around him, lies back and raises her arms above her head. He places the mask over her eyes. The mask shifts something inside Marshall. Seeing her sprawled out, her wrists bound, and the mask on draws him into another space, making him realize that she wants him to own this moment with her the way she had earlier with him. The challenge kindles a need in him, the kind that makes him want to give the way he received, fully and completely.

“Any rules?” He asks.

“Don’t kiss my mouth,” she replies.

Marshall doesn’t even know where to begin. He wants to kiss and suck every inch of Camila’s body.

“By the way,” she says, “I put a few things on the nightstand in case you need some inspiration.”

He glances over and spots a bar of dark chocolate, honey and fresh berries he’d bought at the market that morning. When he bought them, he couldn’t possibly have imagined what they would be used for that night. Marshall runs his hands down the middle of her torso until he reaches her cunt. She’s swollen and wet from earlier tonight. His hand moves back up, and he begins to play with her breasts. Rolling one nipple between his fingers, he traces the other with his warm tongue. He continues to do this, his circles becoming wider until her entire breast is covered in his saliva. From the underside, he licks up until he reaches her pert nipple, sucking it into his mouth and biting down gently with his teeth. The sensation of his breath over her skin followed by his teeth makes Camila cry out.

He flicks her tit with his tongue, then moves over to the other breast, her nipple sensitive from his touch. Camila’s legs fall open instinctively. God, how badly she wants to wrap her legs around his back and have him fuck her mercilessly. But she bites down on the inside of her cheek and gives in to the sensations, allowing her body to fall into each bite and brush of the tongue.

Excitement fills Camila as Marshall makes his way down her body. Stopping at her navel, she draws a breath as she waits while the room falls into utter stillness. A cool liquid fills her belly button. “Stick out your tongue,” he tells her.

Camila does as she’s told.

Marshall dips his tongue into the honey and then moves over her. He sweeps his honey-covered tongue over hers, stroking it a few more times before returning for more honey. Camila can feel her body begin to warm. His tongue feels incredible on hers. The way he teases and tastes awakens a deeper need in her.

He takes more honey but this time spreads it around her nipples, sucking as he goes. With his other finger he smears honey over her swollen lips, trying hard not to kiss them as he goes. Marshall sticks his finger inside her mouth for her to suck the rest off the tip. The feel of her tongue makes him groan.

Marshall has no idea what he’s doing to Camila. On the surface, she’s calm and unmoved. But beneath her exterior is a raging desire, setting her chest aflame and her cunt burning for him.

Camila feels something else touch her lips. “Open,” he says.

She does, the taste of strawberry and honey mingling over her tongue. She expects another bite, but it doesn’t happen. Marshall is already taking more honey, but this time he’s moving downward, toward her pussy.

“You’re even sweeter now,” he groans into her. He licks her pussy until she’s thoroughly wet with her own need. He has her close but doesn’t want her to come just yet.

Marshall trails honeyed kisses down each of her thighs before continuing down to Camila’s feet. He rests one foot against his chest while he lifts the other and sucks her big toe into his mouth. A lightning bolt shoots right down to her pussy and makes her moan through her sugared lips. Marshall doesn’t stop, inflicting the same pleasure on her other foot. He’s hard right now. His cock twitches seeing Camila primed for his touch. He would love to bury himself inside her, plunge in and out of her until she’s spent. But she doesn’t want his cock at the moment. She wants his touch.

Marshall resumes his snack, this time breaking off a piece of chocolate. “Suck, but don’t bite it,” he says, holding it over her mouth. He takes the softened chocolate and spreads it over her lips where the honey had been. This time he licks it off of her, careful to ignore his instinct to kiss her. He sucks on a larger piece and smears it over her breasts and her cunt.

“You taste phenomenal,” he moans, lapping up Camila’s sweetness mixed with the honey and the bitterness of the chocolate. He remains fully focused on her sex now, his tongue licking and probing before entering her. He brings her legs over his shoulders and deepens his kiss further. As his tongue moves in and around her pussy, his thumb strums her clit. Camila begins ascending toward her bliss, a seemingly unknown force working through Marshall to push her forward into that space of pure ecstasy. She tugs on her restraints, wanting to hold on to something.

Marshall keeps going, sensing and tasting Camila’s climb. Her breathing has become uneven, and she’s no longer still. Her body is ready to come undone beneath him, and he wants to feel and savor all of it.

All of a sudden she cries louder than before, her body shattering into a million tiny satisfied pieces.

Marshall releases his hold, quickly unties Camila and removes her mask. She blinks a few times before her eyes come to rest on his face. Her contented expressions tells him everything.

Without waiting for permission, he picks Camila up and carries her to the bathroom, setting her down next to the clawfoot tub. Camila catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror behind the vanity. She looks exactly like she feels, thoroughly eaten out. Chocolate and honey and traces of red from the strawberry line her lips and her body. Her legs are sticky and thickly coated from the honey, her wanting and Marshall.

Wordlessly, he helps her into the tub and rinses her body before filling the tub with hot water. Camila lowers herself and settles between Marshall’s legs. “Are you a runner?” She asks, noticing the definition of his calf and thigh muscles.
Of all the things to bring up after an unbelievably intimate moment
. Although it feels better to acknowledge something benign than the big thing that just happened.

“Yeah. I ran the Boston Marathon earlier this year. I’ll run the New York in November.”

Camila nods. There doesn’t seem to be much Marshall hasn’t accomplished. “You seem to enjoy challenges,” she observes. She closes her eyes and leans back onto his chest.

He kisses her shoulder and moves his hands over her breasts, noticing several bite marks and red blotches where he sucked hard. Seeing his imprint on her undoes him, unleashing the desire in his cock that he’s been holding back.

Camila feels his readiness and moves forward to give him space, water sloshing over the side and onto the heated marble floors. She doesn’t ask when or where. Instead she waits, extending the same courtesy that Marshall had shown her. She watches as he gets out of the tub and heads out of the bathroom, leaving a trail of wet footprints. Camila counts to three before tracing his steps.

Camila’s skin prickles at the feel of the air on her wet skin as a warm, summer breeze floats into the bedroom from the terrace. A soft light beckons to her through the French doors. The duvet and pillows from the bed are propped up against a large chaise in the opposite corner. Her heart starts to pound against her chest as she considers what Marshall has in store for her.

She doesn’t have to worry long though. Camila jumps when she feels an ice-cold bottle pressed against her back.

Marshall chuckles and wraps his arms around her naked waist, a bottle of Ruinart Rosé in his hand. “I can’t believe you just did that,” she says.

With his arms still around Camila, he twists the cork until a sudden pop breaks through the sound of their breathing.

“Where are the glasses?” She asks.

“I don’t see a need. Do you?”

Camila shakes her head. Turning around to face him, she says, “I like the way you think.”

“The feeling is definitely mutual,” he replies, taking a long pull from the bottle before offering some to Camila. She takes a drink, the bubbles from the champagne dancing on her tongue and tickling the back of her throat.

“This is quite the seduction scene,” she says. “Champagne, strawberries. Who were you planning on having over here tonight?”

“It’s the usual Hamptons breakfast,” Marshall replies casually. Glancing back at the bedroom with the sheets askew and stained with honey and chocolate he says, “I’d say the scene is in there.”

Camila assesses the bed and takes another drink. She swallows hard when she feels her pussy tremble at the sight. The remnants of what happened not even an hour ago serve as a stark reminder of the pleasure that being with Marshall brings.

He holds a strawberry to her lips. “Hungry?”

Camila nods and takes a bite, savoring the taste of the berry blending with the rosé. What she doesn’t tell him is that she’s hungry for him, not the food.

She doesn’t have to though. Marshall can sense it. As he watched her blindfolded and bound, and then again in the bathtub, he observed the subtle ways she’d respond to his touch. He couldn’t see it the first time they were together when she had hidden her vulnerabilities behind a tough veneer. This time, however, as soon as her mask was lowered, he could sense the almost imperceptible shift in her body. Gone was the reserved way she held herself. Instead emerged a fully born goddess of true strength and sensuality.

Lying in the bathtub with her in his arms made Marshall want to disappear into that strength, to steel himself against the world with it. When he swiped on her picture, he hadn’t been looking for anyone in particular. He’d wanted a distraction, someone to take his mind off the person he most wanted to forget, who up until a month ago had anticipated moving in with him. Relocating to New York was Marshall’s way of starting over, and Tinder was supposed to represent his new, single, carefree lifestyle. Little did he expect he’d meet someone like Camila so quickly.

Marshall takes another long pull from the bottle, forcing himself to cut the stray thoughts beginning to invade his mind. He looks down at Camila, who’s watching him quietly. He’d give anything to know her thoughts at that moment. If he did, he’d discover that they’re only of him. The minute she’d decided to dare herself to spend the night with him, everything else in her life hit pause. She knows what’s waiting for her back in New York and that it will still be there on Monday. She realizes that tonight is all she has with Marshall, and she can accept that as well.

“What do you want?” She finally asks.

Marshall regards her another beat, then gently takes her bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger. It turns him on to see that they’re tender and swollen from his kisses. He swallows the urge that starts to take over. This, this is what he wants to feel right now. Pure desire coupled with the sheer excitement of being with someone who wants him equally. He hasn’t had that in years, and since being with Camila, he questions whether he’s really ever had it.

He tugs her mouth open slightly and pours a small amount of champagne into it, allowing the champagne to dribble down her chin and over her chest. Marshall darts down to lap it up. Camila leans her head back, inviting him to explore her chest that’s warmed and tickled by the bubbles on her sensitive skin.

He continues to shower her in the champagne, which trickles down over her breasts to her pussy. With two fingers, he traces the liquid around her navel and to her cunt, mixing the champagne with her own need. He brings it up to their mouths, licking first before offering it to Camila. When she opens her mouth, a jagged breath escapes, the same one that had ripped through the air hours ago. That’s how he knows she wants more.

Marshall lowers himself to the ground and licks her cunt. He’s addicted to the way she tastes and the way she sounds when she’s climbing. He wants to bring her there again. As he deepens his kiss, she murmurs, “I want you inside me.”