Camille's hand tightened in his hair—not a command, not a direction. A fistful of anchor. She pulled him forward, and he went, his knees scraping against the chair's edge as she spread them wider, bracketing his shoulders with her thighs. Her skirt rode up, cream silk bunching at her hips, and he felt the heat of her before he saw anything—radiant, damp, waiting. She didn't say a word. She just pressed him into her, the thin fabric of her panties brushing his lips, and he understood: she wasn't giving him permission. She was taking what she needed.
His hands found her thighs. The muscle beneath the stocking trembled, and he realized she was shaking—not the controlled tremor of a woman suppressing something, but the raw, helpless quiver of someone who'd been holding still for too long. His thumbs traced up, past the hem of her stockings, finding bare skin where the garter clipped. She was hot there. Hot and soft and wet through the silk, and she rocked against his mouth once, a single desperate grind that said everything her silence had been hiding.
He opened his lips. The silk was damp against his tongue, salt and musk and something sweeter underneath, and he tasted her surrender before she gave it. Her grip on his hair tightened—painful now, pulling at the roots—and she pressed harder, riding his mouth with a rhythm she wasn't choosing so much as falling into. He heard her breath catch. A sound he'd never heard from her. Broken. Hungry.
His fingers dug into her hips. He held her steady, not directing, just receiving, letting her take what she needed from his mouth. The silk grew slick under his tongue. She was soaking through it, her heat bleeding into the fabric, and he felt the vibration of a moan she didn't let fully escape—trapped in her chest, escaping as a shudder through her thighs. He pressed closer. Drank her through the barrier she hadn't told him to cross.
Her other hand came down on his shoulder. Not pushing him away—holding herself up. She was leaning into him now, her weight shifting forward, her pelvis grinding in tighter circles against his lips. He felt her through the silk, every contour, every pulse. She was right there. Right at the edge of something she hadn't let herself have. He wanted to tear the fabric aside with his teeth.
But he didn't. He waited. He let her use his mouth exactly as she needed, his tongue pressing against the silk, tracing the shape of her through the barrier she'd chosen. She gasped—a real sound, broken out of her like something she'd been choking on—and her hips stuttered, losing rhythm, losing control. She was trembling against him, her whole body shaking, and he felt her need like a Third presence in the room, as real as the heat between her legs.
Her fingers loosened in his hair. She didn't pull him away. She just held him there, her hand softening, her breath slowing, the stillness returning like a tide. He stayed, lips pressed to her through the silk, tasting her hunger receding into something quieter. Something she was choosing to stop.
She exhaled. Long and slow and steady. A woman putting herself back together.
Then she pushed his shoulders back, just enough to break the contact, and looked down at him. Her eyes were dark, wet at the edges, her composure a cracked mask she was still wearing. She didn't speak. She just looked at him, her hand still in his hair, her thighs still open around his shoulders, her breath still not quite even. He stayed on his knees, lips wet with her, heart hammering, and waited for her to decide what came next.
She didn't tell him to move. She reached for him—her hand finding his jaw, her thumb tracing the corner of his mouth where the taste of her still clung. Her eyes were dark, unreadable, but her fingers trembled against his skin. Then she pulled him forward, not by his hair this time, but by his chin, guiding him back between her thighs like she was placing him exactly where he belonged.
He went without resistance, his hands finding her knees first, then sliding up the outside of her thighs until his palms pressed flat against her hips. The silk of her skirt was bunched between them, damp where he'd been. She was still wet. Still open. Still wanting.
She didn't speak. She just spread her thighs wider, hooked one heel over the arm of the chair, and pulled him closer—her hand at the back of his neck now, guiding his mouth to her through the thin fabric. But this time she didn't press him into her. She held him there, her breath caught, her whole body waiting for him to choose.
He understood. She was giving him the choice she'd taken before.
His tongue found her through the silk, tasting her again—salt and musk and the sweetness he'd been starving for since she'd pushed him away. He pressed harder, tracing the shape of her, letting her feel him choose. Her grip on his neck tightened, not to hold him there but to steady herself. She was trembling again, her hips barely moving, waiting.
He slid his hands up her sides, fingertips brushing the edge of her blouse, and hooked his thumbs into the waistband of her panties. He didn't pull. He just held the fabric, asking without words, his mouth still pressed to her through it.
Her breath hitched. Her hand came down on his shoulder, fingers digging in hard. Then she lifted her hips—just slightly, just enough—and he understood the answer.
He pulled the silk aside.
She was bare beneath, hot and slick, her heat hitting his lips like a release. He didn't hesitate. He pressed his mouth to her directly, tasting her without barrier, and she gasped—a sound she couldn't cage—her hips bucking against his tongue before she could stop them.
She was all salt and need, her flavor flooding him, and she was still holding onto his shoulder like she might fall. Her other hand found his hair, not pulling, just holding, her fingers tangled in the mess of it. She was shaking above him, trembling through every flick of his tongue, every press of his lips, every moment he spent learning the shape of her.
She didn't command him. She didn't tell him what she needed. She just breathed—fast, uneven, broken—and let him find it himself.