Double Trouble - C. W. & S. R.
"She's so eager, aren't you? You've been thinking about this for so long, and now you don't know what to do with yourself."
18+ MDNI Cameron Winter x reader x Sam Revaz established cameron x reader, threesome, can't stop staring at boyfriend's friend, oral (m & f recieving), boys kissing hehehe, sex (um duh)
nonsense disclaimer: this is RPF, don't like? don't read! wc: 5,495
masterlist
The soft glow of the living room lamp casts shadows across Cameron's face as he traces circles on my thigh. We're curled together on the couch, the movie we were supposed to be watching long forgotten as his touch sends shivers through me.
"You've been quiet tonight," he murmurs, his lips brushing against my ear. "Thinking about Sam again?"
My body tenses slightly at his words. Have I been that obvious? Sam joined us for dinner earlier, and I'll admit my gaze lingered a few times too many on his muscular arms, the way his shirt stretched across his tan shoulders, that crooked smile that makes my stomach flutter. Would his tattoos get blurry when he’s above me?
Cameron's fingers still their movement. "Hey," he says softly, turning my face toward his. "It's okay. I see how you look at him."
I open my mouth to deny it, to apologize, but he presses a finger to my lips.
"Shh, don't. I'm not mad." His eyes search mine, and what I find there surprises me. Something that sounds like curiosity, not anger. "Actually," he continues, his voice dropping to a whisper, "I've been thinking..."
He shifts so we're facing each other completely. "What if... what if we invited him to join us sometime?"
My breath catches. "Cameron, I…"
"Only if you want to," he quickly adds, his hands moving to cup my face. "I've seen the way he looks at you too, you know. And I trust you. Honestly the thought of watching you with him..." He trails off, a slight flush creeping up his neck as he looks down, a small smirk forming on his face.
My mind races with possibilities. Sam's hands on my body while Cameron watches, or maybe participates. The thought sends a rush of heat through me.
"Really?" I ask, my voice barely audible.
Cameron nods, his expression sincere. "Really. If you want to explore that, I'm here for it. All of it."
He leans in to kiss me, and I melt against him, my earlier anxiety replaced by anticipation and a deep, overwhelming love for the man who knows me so completely. Someone who sees my desires not as a threat, but as something to be explored together.
When we part, he's smiling. "So should I ask him?"
I bite my lip, nodding slowly. "Yes."
The knock at the door comes two nights later.
Cameron squeezes my hand before he gets up to answer it, his thumb tracing over my knuckles. "Breathe, sweetheart."
I hear their voices, low and familiar and easy. The sound of Sam's laugh makes my stomach flip. Then they're in the doorway, and Sam's eyes find mine immediately, dark and knowing in a way that fills me full of shame and arousal. I want to look away, but I can’t.
"Hey," he says softly, like he's reassuring a skittish animal.
Cameron closes the door and moves behind me, his hands settling on my shoulders. His thumbs press into the tense muscles there, kneading slowly. "She's nervous," he tells Sam, like I'm not standing right here. "Aren't you, baby?"
I nod, because I am, and because there's something about the way they're both looking at me, amused. They have robbed me of words.
Sam steps closer, close enough that I can smell his cologne, something warm and woodsy. He reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering against my jaw. "That's okay," he murmurs. "We'll take care of you. Won't we?"
Cameron nods, and I feel his breath against my neck as he bends down to speak directly into my ear. "We're going to be so good to you. So patient." His hands slide down my arms, catching my wrists and drawing them behind my back, holding them there gently but firmly. "Even if you get overwhelmed. Even if you beg."
Sam's smile turns crooked, his eyes flicking to Cameron with something like appreciation. "Is she going to beg?"
"Probably," Cameron says, a smirk growing on his face as he looks down at me. "She gets loud when she's frustrated. Don't you, sweetheart?"
I make a small sound, indignant or desperate or both, and Sam's expression softens even further.
"Shh," he says, his palm cupping my cheek, thumb brushing over my lower lip. "We know what you need. You don't have to think."
Cameron releases my wrists only to turn me around to face him, his hands moving to my waist. He walks me backward until the backs of my knees hit the couch, guiding me down to sit. Sam follows, settling onto the cushion beside me, close enough that his thigh presses against mine.
"Look at you," Cameron says, kneeling in front of me. His hands slide up my legs, pushing the fabric of my skirt higher. "Already soaked. Been waiting so nicely."
"She's been waiting for days," Sam adds, and his voice has that same gentle, condescending warmth. "Haven't you? Since dinner? Thinking about what it would be like?"
I nod again, helplessly, and they exchange a look over my head. Some form of silent communication that makes me feel small and seen and wanted.
"Tell us," Cameron prompts, his fingers tracing the edge of my underwear, barely touching, teasing. "Tell Sam what you thought about. When you were being so obvious."
My face burns hotter. "I just... I wondered what his tattoos would look like. Up close."
Sam makes a soft, sympathetic noise and reaches for the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and off in one smooth motion. The ink across his arms and shoulders is intricate, dark against his tan skin. I want to touch it, but my hands are trembling.
"Poor thing," Sam says, catching my wrist and bringing my palm to his bicep, pressing it flat against his warm skin, letting me feel the hard muscle beneath. "There. Is that what you wanted?"
"She wants more than that," Cameron says, and there's laughter in his voice, fond and knowing. "Don't you, sweetheart? But you'll have to be patient. We want to make sure you're ready."
"I am ready," I whisper, hating how desperate I sound.
Cameron tsks softly, his head shaking slowly. "See? Already rushing. He just got here, baby. Let us warm you up properly."
Sam's hand covers mine where it rests against his arm, guiding my fingers lower, tracing the down to his hand, tangling our fingers together. "We'll tell you when you're ready," he murmurs. "Won't we, Cam?"
"Absolutely," Cameron agrees, and his fingers finally hook into my underwear and begin to draw them down, so slowly it makes me whimper. "Gonna take such good care of you. Even if it takes all night."
They both smile at me, gentle and devastating, and I realize with a dizzying rush that they planned this. The synchronization, the rhythm of their teasing, the way they keep me suspended between wanting and needing.
I shift restlessly against the couch, the fabric rough against my bare thighs, and Cameron's hands tighten on my hips in warning.
"Easy," he murmurs, but he's smiling, that infuriating, affectionate smile that says he knows exactly what he's doing to me. "Sam, help her with this."
Sam's fingers find the buttons of my blouse, working them open with infuriating patience. His knuckles brush against my skin as he goes, deliberate, teasing. By the time he spreads the fabric open, I'm breathing hard, my chest rising and falling in shallow bursts.
"So pretty," Sam says, and he sounds sincere, almost reverent, but then he glances at Cameron and adds, "She's practically shaking."
"She's so eager," Cameron corrects, his palm flattening against my stomach, holding me still. "Aren't you? You've been thinking about this for so long, and now you don't know what to do with yourself."
I want to snap at him, want to pull him down and demand, but the words die in my throat when Sam leans in and presses his mouth to my collarbone. His tongue traces a slow, hot path upward, and I arch into the sensation, my head falling back against the cushions.
"That's it," Cameron encourages, his hand sliding down, down, his fingertips grazing through my folds with pressure so light, he might as well be not touching me at all. "Let him taste you. Let us take our time."
Sam's mouth moves lower, trailing kisses between my breasts, and Cameron shifts position, kneeling closer, his shoulder pressing against Sam's. They exchange another glance, something charged and knowing passing between them, and then Cameron is leaning in too, his mouth finding my nipple through the thin fabric of my bra while Sam continues his descent.
The dual sensation makes me cry out, my hands flying to their hair. Cameron's familiar, soft, and Sam's shorter, coarser. They don't rush. They take turns, one sucking while the other licks, trading my breasts between them with an ease that suggests they've discussed this, planned this, mapped out exactly how to unravel me.
"Please," I whisper, and I hate how small my voice sounds, how desperately my words are being forced out of my mouth.
"Please what?" Sam asks against my ribs, his breath hot.
"I need..."
"You need what, baby?" Cameron lifts his head, his lips swollen, his eyes dark. "Use your words. Tell Sam what you want him to do to you."
My face burns. "I want your mouth. Both of you. I want…"
"Good girl," Sam interrupts, and the praise shouldn't make me shiver, but it does. It absolutely does. "Such a good girl, asking so politely."
They move together, Cameron shifting back to give Sam room, but then Cameron's hands are on my knees, spreading me open, holding me there. The exposure makes me want to close my eyes, but I can't look away as Sam settles between my thighs, his broad shoulders forcing my legs wider.
"Look at her," Cameron says, his voice thick with appreciation. "Look at how wet she is. She's been like this since you walked in, you know. Could barely focus on me at dinner."
Sam hums, the vibration sending a jolt through me, and then his tongue flattens against me in one long, devastating stroke. My hips buck, but Cameron's hands keep me pinned, his thumbs pressing into the creases of my thighs.
"Stay still," he orders gently. "Let him get acquainted. He's been wondering about this too, haven't you, Sam?"
Sam doesn't answer with words. He answers with his mouth, slow, exploratory licks that have me whimpering and clutching at the couch cushions. He finds my clit and circles it with the tip of his tongue, methodical, unhurried, like he has all the time in the world.
"Oh, she likes that," Cameron observes, his fingers tracing patterns on my inner thighs. "Don't you, baby? You always liked it slow at first. She likes the teasing, it drives her crazy."
I nod frantically, and Cameron chuckles, the sound warm and rich.
"Sam," he says, and there's a note of invitation in his voice. "Trade with me. I want to taste her too."
Sam lifts his head, his chin glistening, and the sight of it sends another rush of heat through me. He shifts aside, making room, and Cameron takes his place, his mouth immediately finding my center with the confidence of familiarity, the knowledge of exactly how to make me moan.
But then Sam isn't moving away. He's staying close, his hand replacing his tongue, his fingers stroking through my folds while Cameron licks and sucks. They're shoulder to shoulder, both of them focused on me, and the visual alone is enough to make me gasp.
He positions their mouths so close that their tongues are constantly brushing against each other as they work me higher and higher. The sight of it, their heads bowed between my legs, their tongues meeting and parting as they pleasure me together, is almost as intoxicating as the sensation itself.
"She's close," Sam notes, his fingers circling my entrance, teasing, not entering. "Feel how she's trembling."
Cameron makes a sound of agreement, his tongue pressing harder, and then Sam is leaning in closer, his free hand bracing against the couch near my hip, and I realize with dizzying clarity that he's watching Cameron's technique, learning me through observation.
"Show me," Sam murmurs, and his voice is right there, inches from where Cameron's mouth is working. "Show me what she likes."
Cameron pulls back just enough to speak, his lips brushing against Sam's jaw as he turns. "Like this," he breathes, and then his tongue darts out, not touching me, but touching Sam. A quick, wet brush against the corner of Sam's mouth, sharing the taste of me between them.
Sam makes a low, surprised sound, and then he's leaning in, and their mouths meet in a messy, open kiss right there, right above my most sensitive flesh, and I can see their tongues sliding against each other, exchanging the flavor of me, and it's the hottest thing I've ever witnessed.
They break apart slowly, both of them flushed, and then Cameron looks down at me with dark, glittering eyes.
"Shh," he says, his voice rough. "Stay still honey."
They both lower their heads, and then there are two tongues on me. Cam’s is firm and knowing, Sam's softer, more curious, exploring alongside him. They lick in tandem, sometimes overlapping, sometimes taking turns, and then their tongues brush against each other directly, sliding wet and hot against one another with me caught between them, the friction sending sparks up my spine.
"Oh god," I gasp, my hands finding their hair again, holding them there, grounding myself through the sensation of them both focused entirely on my pleasure. "Please, please, I can't…"
"You can," Cameron mumbles against me, the vibration making me twitch. "You can take it. Look at how good you're being for us."
Sam's tongue circles my clit while Cameron's presses lower, and then they switch, trading places seamlessly, and their tongues meet again, tangling together for a moment before separating to their tasks. The intimacy of it, the casual eroticism of them sharing this, sharing me, pushes me higher, faster.
"She's going to come," Cameron predicts, lifting his head to look at Sam, their faces close, both of them flushed and wet. "Should we let her?"
Sam considers this, his thumb stroking where his tongue just was, keeping the rhythm steady even as they discuss me like I'm not right here, trembling and desperate. "Not yet," he decides. "I want to feel her. Can I?"
Cameron's smile is slow and satisfied. "Yeah. Go ahead. She's ready for you."
Sam's fingers replace his tongue, two of them sliding into me with ease, curling to find the spot that makes my vision blur.
Cameron watches Sam's fingers work with undisguised appreciation, his own hand sliding up my body to cup my breast, thumb circling my nipple with the same lazy rhythm. "There," he murmurs, not to me but to Sam, guiding him. "Right there. You feel how she tightens?"
Sam makes a sound of discovery, wonder mixed with something darker, and crooks his fingers again. My back arches off the couch, a moan tearing from my throat, and Cameron tsks softly.
“Oh fuck Sammy…” I cry as he curling his fingers slightly, placing a soft kiss on my upper thigh.
"Listen to her," he says, fond and mocking all at once. "So loud already, and we've barely started."
"I want to hear more," Sam admits, his voice rougher than before, the pretense of gentleness slipping to reveal the want underneath. He leans down again, his mouth finding my inner thigh, biting softly while his fingers continue their relentless pressure. "Want to hear what she sounds like when she really lets go."
Cameron shifts up the couch, settling beside my head, his fingers threading through my hair and tilting my face toward him. "You'll get to," he promises Sam, his eyes never leaving mine. "But she needs to ask properly, don't you, sweetheart?"
I whimper, trapped between Sam's mouth on my thigh and his fingers curling inside me, between Cameron's grip in my hair and the command in his voice. "Please," I manage, the word breaking in the middle. "Please, I need it…"
"Need what?" Cameron prompts, his thumb tracing my lower lip, pressing inside until I taste myself, taste them mingled together. "You gotta be specific, baby. Sam's trying to learn what you like."
Sam chooses that moment to suck a mark into my skin, high on my thigh, and my hips jerk helplessly. "Need to cum," I gasp out, humiliated and desperate and so turned on I can barely see straight. "Please, Cam, please let me cum…"
"Let you?" Cameron's smile is sharp, delighted. "Baby, we're not stopping you. We're helping." He glances down at Sam, some silent agreement passing between them. "Sam, give her your mouth again. I want to watch her fall apart."
Sam doesn't need to be told twice. He withdraws his fingers slowly, making me whine at the loss, but then his tongue is there, lapping at where I ache most, broad and flat and perfect. Cameron holds my gaze, his hand still tight in my hair, keeping me present, keeping me here while sensation builds and builds.
"That's it," he croons, watching my face, reading every twitch and gasp. "Let him taste you. Let him feel what I get to have every night." His voice drops, intimate and devastating. "You're being so good for us, baby. So open. So needy."
Sam's tongue finds my clit again, circling with increasing pressure, and Cameron bends down to kiss me, swallowing my cries. I can taste myself on him, taste Sam too, the combination heady and obscene. When he pulls back, his pupils are blown wide, his control visibly fraying.
"Sam," he says, and it's almost a warning. "Make her cum. Now."
Sam obeys, sucking my clit between his lips and pressing two fingers back inside me, curling them hard, and the sudden intensity shatters me. I cry out, my body seizing, my hands searching for something to grab so I can anchor myself. One finding Cameron's shoulder, the other tangling in Sam's hair, holding him there as I pulse and shake around his tongue.
They don't stop. Sam gentles his movements but keeps licking, drawing out the aftershocks, while Cameron strokes my hair, my face, murmuring praise that I can barely process through the haze.
"So pretty," Cameron whispers against my temple. "Look at you. Look how well you took that."
Sam finally lifts his head, his lips swollen and shiny, his expression dazed and triumphant. He crawls up my body, pausing to press a kiss to my stomach, my ribs, the valley between my breasts. When he reaches my mouth, he hesitates, glancing at Cameron for permission.
Cameron nods, something fierce and possessive in his eyes. "Kiss her. Let her taste what she did to you."
Sam's mouth meets mine, and I moan at the flavor. I can taste myself on him, but there’s something else. Something uniquely him. Copper and salt and want. Cameron's hand slides down my body, not to tease but to soothe, grounding me as Sam devours my mouth with a hunger that suggests he's only getting started.
When Sam pulls back, he's breathing hard, his control clearly strained. "Can I?" he starts, then stops, looking to Cameron again.
Cameron laughs, low and warm, and reaches out to grip Sam's shoulder, pulling him in for a kiss of their own. Harder, more demanding, a clash of teeth and tongues that leaves them both flushed. "Yeah," he says when they separate, his voice rough. "Yeah, you can. But slow. She's sensitive."
They arrange me between them with coordinated efficiency that suggests this isn't the last time they'll do this. Cameron behind me, his chest warm against my back, his legs bracketing mine, while Sam kneels between my thighs, his hands trembling slightly as he unbuttons his jeans.
"Look at him," Cameron commands softly, his lips at my ear, his hands sliding up to cup my breasts again, presenting me to Sam. "Look how much he wants you. How hard he is for you."
Sam is watching us, watching Cameron's hands on me, and the hunger in his eyes makes me feel powerful even as I feel small, cherished, almost owned by their combined attention.
"Please," I whisper again, and this time I'm not sure what I'm asking for, only that I need more, need them, need everything they're willing to give.
"Shh," Sam murmurs, settling over me, his weight welcome and warm. "We know, baby. We know exactly what you need."
We move to the bedroom with an urgency that makes me dizzy. Sam lifting me easily, Cameron's hand in the small of my back guiding us, the familiar space made strange and new by the presence of a third.
Cameron positions me on the edge of the mattress, his hands firm on my hips as he turns me to face Sam. "On your knees," he murmurs, and there's that tone again. Gentle, affectionate, and utterly commanding. "Show him how talented that mouth is."
I settle onto the bed, my knees sinking into the plush blanket, and look up at Sam where he stands before me. He's already hard, straining against his jeans, and the sight sends a fresh rush of heat through me. I reach for his zipper but Cameron stops me, his hand covering mine.
"Slow," he reminds me, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. "Tease him first. Make him want it."
I glance back at Cameron, at the flush high on his cheekbones, the obvious bulge in his own pants, and realize he wants to watch before he participates. He wants to see me unravel Sam with just my mouth, my hands, my willingness.
I turn back to Sam and press my face against his clothed length, nuzzling, breathing hot through the denim. Sam groans, his hand finding my hair, his fingers tightening. "Fuck," he whispers. "Cam, she's oh my god"
"I know," Cameron says, and I hear the smile in his voice. "Wait until she actually touches you."
I look up at Sam through my lashes, maintaining eye contact as I finally pull down his zipper and free him. He's thick and flushed dark, and I waste no time, licking a stripe up the underside before taking the head between my lips.
"Jesus," Sam gasps, his hips jerking forward involuntarily before he catches himself. "Sorry, sorry, I…"
"Don't apologize," Cameron cuts in, and now he's moving, shedding his clothes, kneeling on the mattress behind me. His hands slide up my thighs, lifting my hips, positioning me exactly where he wants. "She can take it. Can't you, baby?"
I hum my agreement around Sam, and the vibration makes him curse again, his hand tightening in my hair. I feel Cameron behind me, the heat of him, the press of his thighs against mine, and then he's guiding himself into me in one slow, perfect thrust.
The fullness makes me moan, the sound muffled around Sam, and both men make identical sounds of pleasure. low, guttural, completely undone.
"That's it," Cameron breathes, his hands gripping my hips hard enough to bruise. "You can take us both, sweetheart. Let us fill you up."
He sets an almost lazy pace, rolling his hips against mine, each thrust pushing me forward onto Sam. I try to focus on my rhythm, on the slide of my tongue and the suction of my mouth, but Cameron's making it difficult, angling his hips to hit that spot inside me that makes my vision spark.
"God, she's so pretty like this," Sam breathes, his eyes dark and fixed on my face, on the way my lips stretch around him. "I want to fuck her mouth."
Cameron's movements become more erratic, his breathing ragged as Sam's words spur him on. "Tell me what you want to do to her next," he grunts, his thrusts deepening, speeding up, losing their careful rhythm.
Sam's free hand cups my jaw, his thumb tracing where my mouth meets his skin. "I want to see her swallow," he says, his voice rough. "Want to feel her throat. Want to make her messy."
"She likes messy," Cameron manages, and I can hear the strain in his voice, the way his control is fraying at the edges. "Don't you, baby? Like being used by us. Like being our good little…"
I moan around Sam, the sound desperate and wanting, and Cameron groans, his fingers digging into my hips.
"Yeah," he confirms, his thrusts becoming punishing, driving me forward onto Sam with each snap of his hips. "Just like that. Taking it so well. So fucking well."
Sam starts to move, countering Cameron's rhythm, withdrawing when Cameron pushes me forward, thrusting back when Cameron pulls me onto him. I'm suspended between them, impaled and claimed and used in the most perfect way, my mind blanking to everything but the stretch and the heat and the wet sounds filling the room.
"Can you take more?" Sam asks, his voice gentle even as his hips snap forward, even as he fucks my mouth with increasing abandon. "Can you take me deeper, baby?"
I nod as best I can, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes from the effort, from the overwhelming sensation of being filled at both ends. Sam groans and slides deeper, his hand guiding my head, and I relax my throat, taking him until my nose presses against his stomach, until I can barely breathe, until the world narrows to just this, just us.
"Fuck, Cam, she's," Sam breaks off, his whole body trembling. "I'm not gonna last. She's too perfect. Too fucking perfect."
"Then come," Cameron groans out, his pace stuttering, losing its rhythm entirely. "Come in her mouth. Let her taste you. Fuck I've been dreaming about watching this."
Sam makes a broken sound and thrusts once, twice, and then he's spilling over my tongue, thick and hot and bitter, his hand clutching my hair like a lifeline. I swallow around him, my throat working, and the sensation makes him cry out, his knees actually buckling before he catches himself on the wall.
"So pretty," Cameron whispers, his thrusts becoming wild, uncontrolled, chasing his own release now that Sam has finished. "So beautiful. So good for us."
Sam slides out of my mouth, spent and shaking, but he doesn't move away. He sinks to his knees in front of me, his hands cupping my face, his thumbs wiping at the tears and mess on my cheeks. "You okay?" he breathes, his eyes searching mine. "Was that too much?"
I try to answer, but Cameron chooses that moment to angle his hips just right, hitting that spot inside me that makes me see stars, and all that comes out is a wail, high and desperate.
"She's fine," Cameron answers for me, his voice strained, his thrusts becoming shallow and fast. "She's perfect. She's gonna come for me now, aren't you, baby? While Sam watches. While he sees what you give me."
Sam's hands slide down to my breasts, pinching my nipples, and the sudden sharp sensation pushes me over the edge. I cry out, my body clamping down around Cameron, my back arching as wave after wave crashes through me.
Cameron follows seconds later, burying himself deep and groaning my name against my shoulder, his teeth sinking into the skin there, marking me. We collapse forward together, a tangle of limbs and breath and sweat.
For a long moment, no one speaks. The only sounds are our ragged breathing, the thump of my heart in my ears.
"Okay," Sam finally says, his voice hoarse, his hand tracing lazy patterns on my back. "Okay, yeah. I definitely want to do that again."
Cameron laughs, the sound warm and satisfied and vibrating against my spine where he's still pressed against me. "Greedy," he accuses, but there's no heat in it, only fondness. "Give her a minute. She's delicate."
"I'm not delicate," I mumble into the sheets, my voice soft and slightly hoarse.
"You're delicate," Cameron insists, pressing a kiss to my shoulder blade. "And precious. And such a good girl." He pauses, and I feel him smile against my skin. "And definitely doing that again. After a shower. And some water. And maybe some sleep." Cameron suggests, unrepentant. "I just want you in bed. Properly. Where I can reach all of you."
They maneuver me between them again, half-carrying, half-guiding me on the bed, and I let them, boneless and sated and so full of warmth I think I might burst with it.
As I sink into the mattress, Cameron on one side and Sam on the other, both of them touching me like they can't quite believe I'm real, I realize that this is what Cameron saw that night on the couch. Not just want, not just lust, but this overwhelming, terrifying, perfect more.
And he gave it to me anyway.
The warm washcloth between my legs startles me a bit. Cameron, thorough and gentle, cleaning me with the same focus he brought to everything else. I murmur something, still drifting, and he shushes me softly.
"Just me," he whispers. "Stay still."
When he finishes, he crawls up the bed and pulls me into his chest, arranging me until I'm cradled against him, my back to his front, his arms wrapped tight. Sam presses in immediately at my side, his leg thrown over mine, his hand finding my hip and holding there like he needs to keep touching me to believe I'm real.
For a long time, no one speaks. The room is dark, quiet except for our breathing. Cameron's hand strokes slow patterns down my arm, checking my temperature, checking me. Sam's thumb traces circles on my hip bone, reverent, almost absent-minded.
I turn my face into his palm and nod, because it aches, but it's a good ache, a satisfied ache. He seems to understand anyway, his eyes crinkling with relief.
"Talk to me," Cameron murmurs against my hair. "Where's your head at?"
I take stock, my body feels heavy and warm, thoroughly used but thoroughly cared for. My throat is sore, my hips ache from Cameron's grip, and there's a pleasant throb between my legs that reminds me with every heartbeat exactly what we did.
"Good," I whisper, my voice cracking. "I'm good. Little floaty."
"Floaty's good," Cameron confirms, his fingers tracing patterns on my stomach.
"How's your jaw?" Sam asks quietly, his thumb brushing over my cheekbone. "I got kinda carried away."
“It’s ok. Honestly, I think Cameron’s probably done worse to it. I don’t mind. I'm fine," I whisper, turning my face into his palm when he cups my cheek. "I liked it. All of it."
"Good," he breathes. "Good."
Cameron finishes his ministrations and crawls up the bed, pulling the duvet over all three of us. He settles against the headboard and draws me into his lap, arranging me until I'm cradled against his chest, my back to his front, his arms wrapped securely around me. Sam presses in immediately at my side, his hand finding mine, his leg thrown over both of mine.
Cameron's arms tighten around me. "Sam," he says, and there's a note of command in it, but soft, intimate. "Come here."
Sam understands. He moves up the bed until he's level with us, and Cameron reaches out, his hand sliding behind Sam's neck, pulling him in. They kiss over my shoulder. Slow, deep, tasting each other, sharing whatever's left of me on their tongues. I watch, breathless, my hand finding Sam's chest, feeling his heartbeat race against my palm.
When they separate, Sam's eyes are blown wide, overwhelmed. Cameron guides him down, arranging him until his head rests on Cameron's other shoulder, his face turned toward mine.
"Look at her," Cameron murmurs against Sam's temple, his hand sliding down to grip Sam's hip, anchoring him. "Look what we did to her."
Sam's eyes travel over my face, my swollen lips, the marks on my throat and thighs. He reaches out, his fingers trembling slightly, and traces the bruise Cameron left on my shoulder. "Pretty," he breathes.
We stay like that, pressed close, trading slow, lazy kisses. Me and Sam, then Sam and Cameron, then Cameron and me, until the lines blur and I lose track of whose mouth is whose. The room grows colder, but we don't move to fix it, just press closer, sharing heat, sharing breath, sharing the silence.
"Stay," I mumble eventually, my eyes heavy, my body finally giving out. "Both of you. Please."
"Not going anywhere, baby." Cameron promises, his arms tightening around us both.
Sam makes a sound of agreement, already half-asleep, his face buried in my neck, one hand still clutching mine.
I let go, finally, trusting them to hold me up. And they do.
A/N: this might be the longest thing i've ever written wtf um yeah i will update my ao3 when i get a chance
