Does this mean I’m submissive? I don’t even know. I’ve only read books and watched movies about this stuff, and I always rolled my eyes. I would have said that I’d punch any man who dared to tell me whether or not I could speak.

But when it comes from Cam, a man that I trust—hell, love—it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.

Not to mention, the way he growls, “Good girl,” makes me want to be a good girl. And that’s ludicrous. But true.

Good God, I’m losing my mi-i-ind. “Shit!”

Cam laughs, the sadistic jerk, as he taps on my clit, and I see stars. It doesn’t matter that I’m not allowed to talk. I couldn’t form a sentence to save my life anyway.

My hips move in invitation, my heels digging into the mattress, and my hands white-knuckled on the pillow as Cam does intoxicating things to me. I’ve never had a man pay so much attention to the details.

“You have a little freckle right…here.” He presses a kiss right next to my labia. “And one here.” Another kiss on the other side.

I want to remind him that I have freckles everywhere, but I hold the words in and sigh in delight when his mouth covers me, and he really gets down to business.

Who knew how satisfying sex could be? Not me. Not until Cameron. I didn’t know that electricity could shoot through me with just one touch or that memories of these moments could do the same days later.

Even when he’s not touching me!

How is that even possible?

“Cam!” I reach out for him blindly, but he takes my hand, kisses it, and returns it to the pillow.

“Keep your hands up here,” he says sternly.

“Or what?” I whisper, then bite my lip in the silence that follows.

Shit.

“Or we stop.”

I immediately clamp my hand back onto the pillow and shut my big mouth because I do not want him to stop.

“Is that what you want?” he murmurs in my ear.

I shake my head no.

“You can use your words to answer.”

“No. I don’t want you to stop.” I swallow hard. “Sir.”

Cameron laughs—laughs!—and then gets back to work. How does he know that I like to be touched just like that? That I need to be caressed, right there?

How does he know me so well?

These are questions to file away for later.

Finally, I hear his clothes rustling as he strips out of them, and then the bed dips between my legs as Cam kneels there. God, I want to see him. I want to watch his blue eyes darken as he slips inside of me, and I want to see them close because he’s overcome from the sensation of us joining.

I want to watch everything.