All Over You (All Falls Down #3)

by Ayden K. Morgen

  "I'm coming home," she decides, her voice firm.

  "You can't," I remind her. "Your conference isn't over."

  "Screw the conference!"

  "Your boss needs you there," I say, and bite my lip because I really do want her to come home, even knowing she can't. There's nothing she could do for me here, but I miss her and the laughter she brings into my life. "Besides, Cam is trying to find evidence that proves I'm innocent. We just have to give him time to do it."

  She grumbles wordlessly.

  "He will find something," I tell her, trying to muster a little confidence.

  "Do you really think so?" she asks, her voice full of worry.

  "I hope so. This woman used Rory's name at a shop a couple of weeks ago, so he's going to try to get the security footage from the area to see if I recognize anyone. With any luck, we'll find out who is behind this." I'm not so sure it'll happen before I'm arrested, but I don't tell her that, instead filing it away under things not to mention over the phone.

  She's quiet for a moment and then she sighs. "Fine. I'll stay here until the conference is over on Tuesday. But I swear to God, if you're arrested before I get home, I'm kicking his ass. And you can tell him I said so."

  She's serious, and I know she is.

  "I will," I promise, smiling a little.

  "I can't believe you're having a secret love affair with a cop while being investigated," she says with a dramatic sigh. "That's kind of hot, Ivy."

  "It sounds a lot hotter than it is, trust me."

  "Says the woman having incredible sex with a sexy detective."

  "The sex is incredible," I murmur. Even though she can't see me, my cheeks burn.

  "Lucky bitch," she grumbles again. "Seriously though, if he's fine with your relationship, you should be, too. You didn't do this, and you don't owe anyone an explanation about your life or who you're seeing."

  "It's more complicated than that."

  "Is he assigned to the case?"

  "No. He's looking into it as a favor for a friend…and I guess for me, now."

  "Then fuck that noise!" she shouts. "Unless he's the detective assigned to the case, you're not doing anything wrong. Screw anyone who says otherwise."

  "You're right."

  "I'm always right," she says with a breezy laugh. "You better call me immediately if anything happens."

  "I will," I promise.

  "Love you, bestie."

  "Love you, too." I wait for the line to disconnect and then drop my phone on the table beside the bed. Flopping back down on the bed, I stare up at the ceiling and sigh, wishing like hell being with Cam was as easy as Erin makes it sound because she is right, our relationship isn't anyone else's business…I just don't think the rest of the world would agree.

  The bed dips and then Cam's scent hits me.

  "Kitten," he murmurs, running his hands through my hair.

  "Mm," I mumble and roll toward him. At some point, I must have dozed off. I'm warm and comfortable and I don't want to wake up. Instead, I snuggle up with my head against his thigh, my eyes still closed.

  "You awake, sweetheart?" he asks. He shifts beneath me, and then I'm in his arms, my head on his shoulder as he settles back down on the bed again, holding me.

  "No," I lie, burying my face in his throat and inhaling deeply.

  "You sound awake to me," he says with a chuckle.

  "You're dreaming."

  "I'm not the one sleeping," he reminds me.

  Oh. Right.

  I nuzzle my face into him, ignoring his point. "You smell good."

  "I do?"

  "Mmhmm. Like sin."

  His body vibrates, laughter rumbling deep in his chest.

  Heat unfurls inside of me at the sound, desire blooming as sleepiness evaporates. I stick the tip of my tongue out, tasting his skin where his pulse thrums. His laughter ends abruptly, cut off by a low groan. The sexy sound makes me bolder. I shift in his arms and rake my teeth across his throat.

  His hands tighten on me as if he's going to stop me, but I don't want him to put an end to this. I don't want to talk about what happens next, or think about what's coming now that the police have my song. I just want him. So I don't let him stop me. Instead, I straddle his lap, exploring him with my lips and tongue.

  I bite down, sucking at his skin as my hands rove down his chest. He's solid, firm everywhere. I delve my hands beneath the fabric of his shirt, flattening my palms against his stomach. His body is warm, his abs perfectly defined. Shifting, I kiss my way across his jaw, feeling the stubble scratching against my lips.

  "Fuck," he grunts when I bite down on his lip, pulling it into my mouth. His hands dig into my ass, grinding me against his erection. "You want to play, kitten?"

  I dig my nails lightly into his abs and scratch instead of responding.

  A groan rumbles against my lips, a warning, I think.

  I don't heed it, instead biting his lip again. I want him wild, as crazy as he makes me.

  He gets the point. Faster than I can process, he rips control away from me, taking it like I never had it at all. His lips crash against mine as he bucks upward. I land on my back with him over me, his hands like vises on my wrists, holding me still as he takes what he wants from me. He kisses me hard, unleashing all of that pent up lust on me.

  It's fucking glorious.

  "Told you," he pants, moving down my chest where he bites my nipple through my shirt, "I'm in control, kitten. You can't dominate me. I'm not submissive. You take what I give you, not the other way around."

  "Cam," I groan, his words hitting me like a wrecking ball. I want that. All of him, unleashed on me. "Please."

  He bites my other nipple, just hard enough to make it hurt. The pain quickly morphs to pleasure, causing a flood of wetness to pool between my thighs. My clit pulses, aching for him. I cry out, writhing beneath him.

  "You like that, don't you?" he asks, almost as if he's surprised by how much I like it when he's rough with me. He rises up over me, those gray eyes locked on my face. "Tell me what you want, kitten."

  I don't hesitate to give him what he wants…what we both want. "I want you to take what's yours, Cam," I tell him, holding his gaze, letting him see how much I mean what I'm saying. "I want all of you. Don't hold back."

  I push upward, my lips seeking his to seal my words and the promise they contain. He grants my request, covering my mouth with his. Our tongues twine together, first in his mouth, and then in mine, slow and sweet. He pulls back, skimming his hands up my sides to cover my breasts.

  My eyes fall closed, a shiver of pleasure working through me.

  He feels it.

  "Remember, you asked for it," he murmurs, tugging my t-shirt up. Soft fabric scrapes against hardened flesh before cool air licks like a kiss across my nipples. His palms follow that kiss of air, kneading where it caressed.

  I arch into his touch, my body instinctively seeking more of the sensations he sends sparking to life inside of me. They remind me of swimming, of warm water caressing my body in soft eddies and silky rushes.

  I grasp his forearms, trying to steady myself.

  When his mouth begins to work at my throat―kissing, licking, and biting―I lose track of myself altogether.

  He teases me, playing with my nipples as he speaks against my skin, "I'm going to own you, kitten. Every sweet inch."

  He slips his hands from my breasts, trailing them down my stomach. My grip on his arms tightens as his fingers delve into my shorts. He strokes his fingertips across my pubic bone, but moves no lower.

  "Yes," I whisper, my tongue feeling thick and swollen. "Please."

  His mouth moves against my throat, a soft, unintelligible sound escaping. "You never have to beg me," he murmurs, turning me in his arms. His stormy gaze tangles momentarily with mine, his expression indecipherable.

  His lips meet mine, butterfly wings against flower petals, before becoming more forceful. I open to him, allowing him to sweep his tongue inside and kiss rationalit
y away. It dissolves like snow in heat, melting into a puddle before evaporating in a cloud of steam.

  When he breaks away this time, I'm not the only one shaking. A faint tremble in his hands tells me that he feels as much as I do. That he wants as much as I do. And I feel him everywhere, like a breeze moving through me, touching each part of me and awakening desire I've only ever felt for him. No one else can take me where I need to go. No one but him. I'm certain of it.

  He strips me silently, his gaze roving across each inch of skin he unveils. Before I'm even bare beneath him, my mind is drugged with pleasure, intoxicated. He's driven me there with each stroke of his fingers across my cheek, with feather-light kisses across my collarbone, and with firmer strokes of his palm against my sides, stomach, and thighs.

  As he sheds his clothing, I touch him, too. Neither of us speaks as I explore, my fingers sliding over the tattoos on his arms and the firm ridges of his abdomen. He keeps his eyes locked on my face as I reacquaint myself with his body, but I don't meet his gaze again.

  I feel…insubstantial. As if a firm wind might shred me like paper. A ripple starts in my chest, spreading outward. I want to tell him how beautiful he is to me and how much he means to me, but the words are stuck in my throat, refusing to form for fear they might undo me entirely.

  He spreads me out on the bed gently, carefully, as if afraid he might hurt me. His gentleness is so at odds with how rough he was a few moments ago, it fractures a little piece of me. It's been so long since anyone has taken care of me. Too long.

  "Cam." I whisper his name because I want to, because I have to…because I love the way it feels on my lips.

  He kneels beside me, seeking out all those sensitive places on my body he's already memorized―the back of my neck, the hollow of my throat, the soft curve of my waist, and the backs of my knees. Each touch sends another shiver through me.

  "Do you feel that?" he asks, trailing his fingertips down my arm. He wraps his fingers around my wrist, drawing my hand up to his chest, and then he presses my palm against him, over his pounding heart. His gaze finds me, two fixed, gray points drawing me in. "Right here?"

  My heart thumps painfully, the rhythm matching his.

  "I―" I shake my head, at a loss for words as hope swells in my chest, overwhelming me.

  Does he feel it? How much he already means to me?

  He dips his head, capturing my nipple in his mouth. I cry out as he wraps his teeth around it before moving on to the other. He laves the flat of his tongue across that one, pulling another soft cry from my lips.

  "Feel it now?" he asks, lifting his head.

  I shake my head again, tears blurring my vision. He doesn't know what he's asking me. What I want from him.

  I'm falling in love with you.

  Please don't break my heart.

  He dips his head again, kissing a trail down my stomach and across my hips. His free hand seeks mine as he swirls his tongue around my belly button. I curl my fingers around his, squeezing his hand as his warm breath teases between my legs. He goes no lower though, simply laving his tongue across my stomach before he glances up again.

  "Feel it now, kitten?"

  "Don’t…." I turn my face away, swallowing hard. He's going to break me. I know he is. "Please don't."

  He falls still as soon as the plea leaves my lips. "Look at me, sweetheart."

  I shake my head. "I can't."

  "You can. All you have to do is open those gorgeous green eyes."

  He reaches for me again, touching, caressing, trying to soothe me, I think. Instead, he claims another little piece of me.

  I expected rough, wild Cam. Gentle, loving Cam is wrecking me. When he touches me like this, he's touching every part of me, undoing me. He's making love to me, and there's no way I'm going to survive it. Whatever defenses I had, he's already shattered.

  His head lands against my stomach. Another soft, unintelligible sound comes from his lips.

  "Talk to me," he says softly. It isn’t quite a plea, but the words sounded thin. Pained almost.

  "I don't think I can," I whisper, cracking my eyes open.

  He presses his lips against the subtle swell of my stomach, brushing back and forth. His gray eyes meet mine, full of some emotion I can't name. "The don’t think, just feel. Can you do that for me?"

  I bob my head in agreement before I can stop myself. An approving smile stretches across his face, his dimple standing in testament to the fact that I'm giving another piece of myself to him, willingly. I close my eyes again, searing that heated, proud look into my memory.

  "Good girl." His hands are on my body again, finding new places for his lips and tongue to taste. The feel of his tongue against my skin is electric, the warm waters of desire now choppy waves. "Open your legs, kitten," he murmurs.

  I do as he requests, my legs falling open without hesitation. He kneels between them, his gaze raking up and down my body before settling on the swollen, wet flesh between my legs. Possession, dark need, and masculine appreciation are stamped across his face like a brand put to flesh. I feel each emotion acutely; they flutter in my chest and cause my stomach to contract as another flood of arousal pools between my thighs.

  His hands slip beneath my hips, lifting me from the bed. His breath blows hot across my inner thighs. He follows with his mouth, pressing small, nibbling kisses into my skin before questing higher. I moan at the feel of his tongue against my center. He laps gently, until I'm writhing beneath him, my breath coming in short pants and sharp cries of pleasure.

  "Cam, please," I cry out, delirious from the reverent way he's tasting me. Those soft kisses and laving licks, combined with his hums of approval, are too much and not enough at the same time. My body is aching for release, but he refuses to let me find it.

  He kisses my pussy again before easing me back down to the bed. His body slides over mine, his mouth wet. "Do you feel it now, kitten?" he whispers, his lips at my ear as he hovers over me, holding his weight off of me. His erection presses at my stomach, hard and thick. He brushes his hand across my heart before thumbing my nipple.

  Again, I shake my head, denying him.

  He captures my mouth with his. Our tastes―the richer taste of my arousal and the sweetness of his mouth―mingle together, creating a harmony that causes another ripple in my chest. This one goes deeper, stripping me down to a painful ache.

  "Please," I whisper as he trails his mouth across my jaw, nibbling at my skin in sweet little bites.

  "Why do you beg me?" he questions, settling his weight over me and staring down. "Told you I'd take care of you, kitten." His length nestles between my thighs, and he pushes forward, sheathing himself inside of me.

  "Oh," I breathe.

  He surges forward so slowly I feel every ridge, every inch.

  I twine my legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

  He holds himself above me, his hands planted on the bed at each side of my head as he stares down at me. "Deny you feel anything now, kitten," he whispers as he presses forward again, sheathing himself fully.

  "I…" A soft moan shatters my response when he circles his hips and then pulls back before doing it again. The motion causes him to strike a soft spot deep inside. Intense shards of pleasure stab into me, one after the other.

  "Deny me again," he says, repeating the motion. Dipping his head, his lips slide across my jaw, my cheek, and then the side of my neck. He nips my skin, his little bites stinging. He leans back and then presses forward again, his pace quickening and then slowing again, never letting me get used to the way he's moving inside of me before he changes it up to keep me on the edge. "Tell me you don't feel it now, kitten."

  "Wh-what are you d-doing to me?" I gasp the question. He's unraveling me, piece by piece, and he knows it…daring me to accept what I'm feeling, teasing me with his disjointed pace. Fast and then slow, a circle of his hips on his inward thrust, a nip to my throat as he pulls back.

  He doesn't answer me. He simply thrusts forward an
d circles. Again and again, until my hands curl into fists. The orgasm that loomed just out of reach when he had his mouth on me slips closer as my body melts beneath his, giving in to the intense pleasure he's drawing out of me. His chest brushes against me, his skin rubbing across my clavicles, my breasts, and the sides of my face.

  He eases off again as if he knows how close I am, going back to his maddeningly slow rhythm. "Not yet," he murmurs when I groan my frustration.

  I'm not sure why I'm surprised though. Cam isn't a quick lover. He takes his time, and makes me take mine. By the time he lets me orgasm the first time, I'm a bundle of sensation and raw nerves.

  "Please," I groan as he sheaths himself one inch at a time all over again. I wrap my legs more tightly around him, digging my heels into his ass, trying to force him to move faster.

  He's implacable, refusing to budge.

  "Feel it," he says again, the word little more than a sigh brushing across my ear, fanning loose strands of my hair. He pulls back again and presses forward. One inch and then another. So slowly I want to scream. Anything to release the pressure building in my stomach, between my legs, and in my throat and chest.

  "I do feel it," I whimper the truth, the desire to open my mouth and tell him exactly how deeply I feel him bubbling up too fast to contain. The desire to keep the words to myself is gone, drowned beneath the need to make him feel what he's doing to me. What he's making me feel for him. A sob catches in my throat.

  "Tell me," he whispers against my throat. Once more, the words aren't a plea, but they're pained, as if he knows exactly what he's doing to me and the thought of losing me tears him apart, too.

  "Can't lose you," I manage to gasp.

  He circles his hips again. His hand lands against my heart, fingers splayed until thumb and pinky each nearly touch a hardened nipple. "Do you feel me here, kitten?" He moves his hips again, pumping quickly and then slowing. "When I'm inside you like this, do you feel me here?"

  I bite my lip before nodding.

  He moves silently above me, loving me to the brink of madness.

  I clutch harder at the sheets, until the thin fabric threatens to tear beneath my hands. He nips harder at my throat, my jaw, my collarbones…he's everywhere, soothing each bite with a swipe of his tongue. He thrusts faster, harder. It's not enough. I want more of him. I want all of him, until he's wrecked like I am, shattered into pieces.