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I want her to love me.
She’s the only one who knows me, so she’s the only one who can.
And I want to love her.
I’m fucking awful at it—I’ve never had any practice.
But I want to take all that passion and jealousy and obsession inside of me, and I want to give it all to her. I want to give her the best of me, whatever that might be.
I only hope it’s enough.
Camille is clinging to me with her whole body. She’s got her arms wrapped tightly around me and she’s whispering in my ear, “Nero . . . oh my god, Nero . . .”
Her thighs clamp around me. I feel her pussy squeezing me tight, clenching over and over as she starts to cum. I kiss her swollen lips, tasting the difference in her breath as her body dumps all the pleasure chemicals of a climax: serotonin, oxytocin, dopamine.
Camille’s mouth tastes better than any food I’ve ever eaten. It satisfies me and makes me ravenous, all at once.
I feel a rush of wetness around my cock from her climax. Her pussy relaxes just a little, so I can fuck her even deeper than before. I don’t want to stop. I want this to go on forever.
It’s impossible, though. I can’t believe I even lasted this long.
Camille is looking at me with those huge, dark eyes. Looking right into my eyes like she did the first time we kissed.
It’s her expression as much as her body that makes me cum. The way she looks at me, and the way she makes me feel. I explode. Absolutely fucking explode. The orgasm wrenches through me. It makes me cry out with a sound like a sob.
I collapse on top of her, pinning her down to the hood of the car, both my hands holding onto hers, our fingers interlocked on either side of her head. I bury my face in her neck, my body still shaking and twitching with the last of the orgasm.
Her legs are locked around my waist. I haven’t pulled out of her.
I can feel her heart beating on one side of her chest, and mine on the other. They’re just a couple of inches apart, separated by flesh and nothing else.
When I finally stand up, my cock is still so hard that it pulls out of her with a popping sound. Hot cum runs down the inside of her thigh.
“Is that okay? I should have asked,” I say.
“It’s fine,” Camille blushes. “We can be more careful next time.”
“I’ve never done that before,” I tell her. “Bare like that.”
“Me either,” she says.
I help her stand up and pull down the skirt of the dress. The underwear’s ruined.
Camille looks as dazed as I do. It’s not an unpleasant feeling. Actually, it’s peaceful. It’s completely silent in the garage, without any noise from the house above, or the city streets beyond.
There’s no awkwardness between us. We’ve separated physically, but I still feel connected to Camille.
She looks up at me, tucking one wild, dark curl back behind her ear.
“I have to ask you something, Nero,” she says.
“Anything,” I reply.
“Are you going to rob the vault at the Alliance Bank?”
“Yes,” I say, without hesitation.
“When?”
