Camden gently lowers the shirt down my body. He sets his hands on both sides of me and leans in close. He’s wearing jeans and a white T-shirt now. He must have gotten dressed while I was in the bathroom, too. “You may be bruised, Baby girl, but you’re every bit as sexy as you always have been in my eyes. My libido can only take so much before I’m going to spontaneously combust from seeing you naked.”
He gives me a wry smile.
I know he’s sort of teasing me to lighten the mood. “Okay, Sir,” I mutter.
He kisses my forehead before sitting next to my legs—which are still under the covers—and picking up the plate of food.
I look at it and then up at him. “Holy shit. You’re a gourmet cook.”
He chuckles. “Let’s not get carried away. I can make scrambled eggs and pancakes.”
I point at the plate. “No. That looks like it was used for a foodie photo shoot. The eggs are perfectly cooked with melted cheese on them, and the pancakes are all equally round and flipped at the perfect moment.”
He laughs. “I think I better make you an eye appointment.”
I cock my head to one side. “Just the one eye, though. Maybe you’re right. Maybe my vision is distorted. Let’s see how it all tastes. That’s what really matters. Is it plastic?” I reach for the fork, surprised when he pulls it back.
“Let me feed you, Little one.”
“You want to feed me?”
“I’ve waited four years for this, Simone. Do not deny a man his moment when it finally arrives.” He scoops up a forkful of eggs and brings it to my mouth.
I open for him and let him feed me. My heart is racing, though, and I stare at him while I chew and swallow.
A dozen new thoughts are rushing through my head. The first of which is that although Jameson is very dominant over Natasha, I’ve never seen him feed her. I’m not sure how this makes me feel. Does Camden think I prefer younger age play than Natasha? Or maybe he’s even more controlling?
Camden cuts off a bite of pancakes next. When I reach forward, he sets the plate on my lap and gently circles my wrist with his free hand to lower it to my side, carefully holding it out of the way.
I’m injured. Most of my body aches. It’s hard to think about anything besides what happened last night. And yet, that one move to restrain my hand makes my arousal spike through the roof. Good thing he put a shirt on me and my waist is covered because my pussy is pulsing and my nipples are hard.
I’ve never thought of myself as being a very young Little. I dress and act more like a Middle. My goth phase—which lasted more than a semester—was very Middle. But having Camden feed me is shaking my foundation to the core. It’s not something I ever imagined—and I imagined a hell of a lot of scenarios between the two of us.
I feel like a baby bird as he continues to feed me. He doesn’t release my wrist. I still have my other one, but I don’t try to stop him. I’m so turned on that I don’t ever want this to end.
“So, what do you think? Will you be willing to eat my breakfasts again?” he asks when the plate is empty.
I shrug. “We’ll see how you are with bacon and waffles.”
He chuckles. “Sassy girl.”
I feel better if he’s with me. When he walks away, my mind wanders, and I slide into an ugly place. I can almost forget the world while he’s looking at me.
Camden sets the plate aside and hands me the sippy cup with more juice in it. “Two hands, Baby girl.”
I swallow hard before I bring it to my lips. Jameson says that to Natasha. It’s always made me jealous. I watch him as I do as I’m told.
“Good girl,” he says when I’m finished. “Why don’t you slide back under the covers and go back to sleep.”
“I need to make some calls.”
He frowns. “Can I do that for you? Who do you need to call?”
I roll my eyes. “There are lots of things you can do for me, but you can’t call the publishing houses I’m supposed to be interviewing at in the next two weeks and postpone my appointments.”
“True. How many are there?”
“Two so far.”
