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“Do you think you’d like it?” I ask, in a careful tone.

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe.” Maybe? Come on, Cam. I know what you want.

I kiss him again. “Let’s go to the bedroom.”

In the bedroom, he hands me the lube from his bedside table.

“Lie down,” I say, “on your stomach.”

He swallows hard. I watch his throat work as he follows my directions. The sight of him like this, compliant and trusting, sends a rush of heat through me. He’s face-down on his bed, waiting for me. For me. After everything I’ve done, he’s still here. He’s still willing. He’s still mine.

I see his white baseball hat hanging on a hook by the door, and I grab it.

“Put this on,” I say.

He turns his head to look at me, confused, but he puts it on, adjusting the brim so it’s facing backward.

And I nearly lose my fucking mind.

He looks so goddamn hot like this, face-down on the bed, that white hat, the curve of his spine leading down to his perfectly round ass on display. The contrast of the innocuous baseball cap with the obscene position makes something primal surge in my chest.

I climb onto the bed and kiss down his spine slowly, taking my time. His skin is warm under my lips, and he shivers with each touch. I can feel the goosebumps rising on his skin, the way his muscles tense and release as I move lower.

When I reach his ass, I squeeze his cheeks.

“Fuck,” he says, but he doesn’t tell me to stop.

“Sorry.” I couldn’t help it.

I grab the lube and coat my fingers. My heart is pounding. I’ve thought about this, about opening him up, about being the first person to touch him like this, for so long that it almost doesn’t feel real. It has to be perfect for him.

I lean over him, one hand braced on his shoulder. “Relax.”

“Yeah,” he says distantly, like he’s already somewhere else in his head.

I run a lubed finger down his crease, circling his entrance. He’s so tight, so untouched. The knowledge that I’m the only one makes my cock throb.

He tenses immediately.

“Relax, baby,” I murmur, circling again. I add more lube, wetting him thoroughly, increasing the pressure gradually.

I lean over him and kiss his neck, light at first to get him comfortable, before sucking hard. He moans. And then my finger breaches the rim.

He gasps, his whole body going rigid beneath me.

Fuck, he’s tight. So impossibly tight that I have to pause, let him adjust, and fight the urge to push deeper.

I kiss his shoulder blade. “You okay?”

“Yeeaaah,” he moans.

His channel grips my finger like a vice, hot and slick. I twist slowly, curling my finger inside him, searching. The muscles in his back ripple as he squirms, and I’m completely mesmerized by the sight of him, the way his body responds to me, the way he’s trying so hard to stay still but can’t quite manage it.

The edges of his hair curl out from under the baseball hat, damp with sweat.

He’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, and my cock is painfully aware.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” I tell him, and I mean it.