C4 Chapter 4

~CAMILLE~

~CAMILLE~

“You’re so wet for me. I can feel it through your panties.” His tongue flicks over his lower lip, eyes dark. “Let’s get this off you, shall we?”

He hooks his fingers in the lace and drags my panties down, slowly. My hips buck at the first brush of his touch against my bare skin. His smile is cocky, hungry, before his mouth lowers to my stomach. A kiss just below my navel. His tongue tracing fire along my skin. My eyes shut against the pleasure, breath stuttering.

“Oh…” I breathe out when his mouth trails lower, leaving soft kisses on my hips before pressing his tongue against my core. My cry rips free. His tongue moves with lazy strokes, teasing, tormenting. I grip his shoulder, searching for something to hold on to as I squirm beneath him. His finger finds my clit, rubbing slow circles while his tongue pushes me closer to madness.

The cool scrape of his lip ring against me makes me moan louder, my body tightening. Then—his finger slides inside me. My eyes squeeze shut, the stretch making me clench around him. He pulls out, pushes in again, and the slow rhythm with his mouth on me drives me insane. My hands thread into his hair, tugging hard, urging him deeper, faster.

“Oh, God,” I moan when he adds another finger, his tongue sucking at my folds with devastating precision.

“Don't you think that's the wrong name, Camille?” he mutters against me before flicking his tongue mercilessly.

“Fuck, Niklaus.” His name tears from my throat, louder this time as my legs lock tight. Release slams into me, violent and overwhelming, and I scream his name again as my body shudders apart in his hands.

“Now, that’s the right name,” he groans, satisfaction lacing his voice.

My vision blurs, my chest heaves as I ride out the waves. He licks me clean before lifting his head, smug smile tugging his lips. I drop my head back against the pillow, lungs straining for air, body still buzzing.

“How was that?” His smile is pure sin.

I can’t fight my own grin. My voice is weak, but sure. “Mhmm. So good.”

“You liked it, huh?” His thumb brushes over my lower lip, taunting. “You forgot already?”

I shake my head. “Not yet.”

“Good. Because I don’t want you to forget yet.”

He hovers above me, crushing his lips against mine in a frenzied kiss. I match his hunger, nails digging into his chest. His body shifts, positioning himself between my thighs. The hard length of him brushes against me and I gasp. He doesn’t waste time, sliding on a condom with practiced ease. The next second, I feel him pressing against me, slowly pushing inside.

“You okay?” His voice is strained, almost breaking.

I nod quickly, shutting my eyes and shifting my hips to take him better.

“Oh, fuck,” I moan when he begins to thrust, filling me completely.

“Shit, Camille… you feel so good.” His groan is primal, guttural. His hips slam into mine, hard and deep, and I rake my nails down his back. Watching him lose himself, powerful and raw, makes the pleasure surge higher. My body tightens, my toes curl, his name tumbling from my lips over and over.

Each thrust is harder than the last, my head falling back, the pleasure stealing every coherent thought. He kisses me, bruising and desperate, his pace unrelenting as moans spill between our mouths. The pressure coils tighter in my stomach, unbearable.

“Fuck, I’m close, baby,” he growls, pulling me flush against him, his fingers intertwining with mine. His body tenses, thrusts growing rougher, desperate. And then with one final push, I shatter around him, my orgasm tearing through me violently. He follows right after, groaning my name as he spills into the condom.

He collapses beside me, discarding it, while I lay flat on my back, chest rising and falling as I try to return to earth.

After a long silence, his voice cuts through the haze. “Did you forget?”

I turn my head, a slow smile curving my lips. “Yes.”

He smirks. “Oh yeah?”

“Yes.”

He chuckles low, reaching for me. His arms wrap around me, pulling me against his chest. He presses a gentle kiss to my lips, and I close my eyes, letting exhaustion and satisfaction wash over me. It feels surreal—falling asleep in the arms of a stranger. A stranger I just had the best sex of my life with.

*****************

I wake to the brightness of the room, sunlight pouring through the window and washing everything in a golden glow. The first thing I notice is the throbbing pain stabbing through my head when I sit up—regretful and sharp. I check the clock and see it's only past 6 am. Then I turn, and my breath catches. Niklaus lies beside me, bare and utterly unbothered, his wavy burgundy hair spilling across his face. God. Even asleep, he looks perfect—dangerously perfect. My chest tightens with a craving I can’t quite suppress.

Memories of last night rush back, heat surging through me until my body aches for more. I stretch languidly, my skin humming with the aftershocks of everything we did, of everything he made me feel. For a moment, I feel impossibly alive. And then reality sets in. Heart hammering, I slip out of the bed as quietly as I can. As much as I loved every second, I can’t stay here—not when I know who he is. Not when I know what this could turn into.

I need to leave before he wakes up.

The last thing I want is an awkward moment between me and this man who seems to know my body more than myself. I quickly pick up my phone from the table beside the bed and just before I can take a step, the room starts to twirl in front of my eyes. Oh fuck, I had vodka last night. How could I forget? It takes me a minute before I am able to move around the room without swaying. I take a proper look around the magnificent room in search of my clothes, but I can't find it anywhere.

Where had my clothes gone?

I have to find something to wear quick, there's no time to figure out where my clothes had gone to. My eyes quickly catch a black T-shirt resting on a couch, and I quickly collect the shirt before sliding it on, not caring about the fact that it belongs to the perfect looking man I had slept with. Luckily, the shirt stops a little above my knee. I quickly run out of the room with my phone in my hand. As I walk down the stairs, some pieces of memory rush through me and I can't shake the image of his every kiss, his touch, and every of his trusts.

"Get your head straight, Camille!" I shake my head and just when I reach the end of the staircase, I see my shoes lying on the ground. Thank goodness, at least I'm not leaving barefooted. I quickly pick them up and throw them on. Last night was crazy, yes, and I liked it, but I have to put that behind me and forget about all of this before things become more complicated.

When I reach the front door, I pause in my steps when I meet one of the servants from yesterday, the one Niklaus has called butler Stevenson. The exact thing I was trying to avoid. Here I am, standing in front of the middle-aged man who is staring at me with confusion in his eyes, wearing almost nothing.

"I will ask the driver to take you home, miss. Please wait." I hear the butler say, and my eyes grow wide in shock. Drive me home? Why does he look so calm as if this isn't anything new to him?

"No, don't worry, you don't have to do that. I will get myself a cab." I say quickly in the politest way and try to walk away.

"There's no way you can order a cab from here, miss." The butler say to me shaking his head and that's when I remember that this is a private estate, not just anyone can just drive in.

"You don't have to feel uncomfortable, miss. We always drive Sir Niklaus's women to their homes. It's nothing new."

His women? Of course. Why am I even surprised? This isn’t new for him—it’s routine. God, what the hell have I done to myself? My stomach twists as the truth settles in. One stupid decision. One too many glasses of vodka. And now here I am, nothing more than another name on his list. I turned myself into a hookup girl because I couldn’t handle a heartbreak.

"Please let us serve you breakfast before you go, Miss." I stare at him as I hear him say that. Was this how he serve his other women? Wow, how thoughtful. Is this supposed to make me less of a one-night stand or what? There's no way I am going to stay here until he wakes up. What if he comes and asks me how much he should pay me for the night?

"I don't want to eat anything. Please where is the car, so I can go."

The butler pauses for a moment and with a nod, he opens the front door and leads me to the black Benz waiting in the driveway. I don't even have the right to feel ashamed right now. I was the one who clearly threw myself on him last night. What was I expecting from a young affluent guy like him other than him being a player and a spoilt brat? I slowly slid into the back seat of the car and rest my head against the car seat without saying a word to the driver who is staring at me.

"Where should I take you to Miss?" The driver asks me as he stares at me through the rear mirror.

"Just drop me at the nearest bus stop, I will find my way from there."

The driver nods before he starts the car leading us out of the estate.