Summary: Adrian catches Cam singing a certain song in the shower. Smuttiness ensues.
Note: There’s a story behind this fic. This came about from a random conversation, in which I joked that since the faceclaim I (and a couple other people that I know of) use for my MC can sing, obviously at some point Adrian would catch her singing in the shower. And then decided, let’s make it even better, and have her be singing Love Myself. So this happened, and I am 100% blaming my dear friend L for it. 😁
“Are you singing in the shower?”
Adrian’s voice startles her so much that Cam almost screams, and drops her shampoo bottle. It hits the floor of the shower noisily, just missing her foot. She misses when she tries to catch it as it falls, and her elbow sends her body wash clattering to join it. She huffs in frustration, picking them both up. Adrian is looking at her in amusement, the shower door cracked open.
Cam usually likes this quiet time to herself in the morning after they’ve worked all night. She’d be annoyed at the interruption, but Adrian is standing there in nothing but his boxer briefs, his eyes roaming over her, and her annoyance flies out the window.
“I was,” she says pointedly.
“Anything I’d know?”
“Uh…” she says, stalling.
She purposely doesn’t want to answer. She has no idea if he’d know the song or not, but she really doesn’t feel like telling him what it was. There’s not a doubt in her mind that he’d tease her about the lyrics.
“I don’t know,” she finally says, reaching for her conditioner.
Adrian strips out of his boxer briefs, and she almost drops the conditioner bottle too, biting her lip as she stares at him.
“You almost done?” Adrian asks.
Cam shakes her head. “You interrupted me.”
“My apologies,” he says, then steps into the shower with her.
“I don’t remember inviting you to join me,” Cam says teasingly.
She slides her hands up his chest and around his neck, pressing her wet skin against his.
“I could get back out,” Adrian offers, but he’s holding on to her hips and tilting his head down to kiss her, and clearly has no intention of leaving.
“I suppose I can handle it,” Cam says, her words ending in a sigh when Adrian’s lips drift to her neck.
She feels his fangs prick her and whimpers quietly.
“What were you singing?” Adrian asks in a murmur, and she flushes.
“Just some catchy song,” she says casually.
“Hmm.”
Adrian moves to her collarbone, then stops, and she almost moans in frustration.
“You should sing it for me,” he says.
He’s smirking when she looks up at him. She groans.
“You heard it, didn’t you?”
“I did,” he confirms. “And I feel like I should take it as a personal challenge.”
“It’s just a song,” Cam protests.
“Yes. About, and correct me if I’m wrong, how you’re going to love yourself and don’t need anybody else?”
Cam’s face is on fire. She kind of wishes she could melt into the floor. But Adrian’s hand is drifting low down her stomach and teasing over the top of her thighs, and his fangs are pricking her skin again, and she doesn’t want him to stop.
“I sincerely hope you don’t really feel that way, Camille,” he says in a low voice.
Oh. Her full name. She whimpers, knowing he never uses her full name unless he’s completely frustrated with her or about to make her incoherent. Before she can say anything else, Adrian has captured her lips with his in a hard, bruising kiss, his fingers rubbing over her.
Cam sucks in a breath, her arms tightening around his neck. She squirms against him when he slips his fingers into her, her nails digging into his wet skin. His movements are agonizingly slow, and his fangs draw teasingly over her lower lip. He circles his thumb around her clit, and she jolts against him.
“Adrian,” she moans.
He slows his movements even more, his dark eyes burning into hers, until he comes to almost a complete stop. She’s about to protest, to beg him not to stop, when he slowly backs her up to the cool tile in the shower and kneels before her. The words die on the tip of her tongue. His lips blaze a trail up her thigh, then over the crest of her hip.
Cam nearly comes apart just from the heat in his gaze when he looks up at her and lifts her thigh up to rest on his shoulder. Wordlessly, he leans in. She lets out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, wanting…waiting…
“Adri-” she begins to say.
She gasps, her hands burying in his hair, when he ever so slowly runs his tongue over her core. Her legs start trembling, her breathing growing shaky. Adrian flutters his tongue teasingly over her clit, and her fingers tighten their grip. He dips his tongue just inside her, then softly murmurs, “Are you this wet for me, Camille? Or is that your own doing?”
Cam shudders. “No…it’s you…all you,” she moans.
No matter how many times he touches her, tastes her, he turns her on and makes her want him more than anyone else. She has never wanted anyone as much as she wants him, has never felt this burning, all-consuming desire before. A scream nearly rips out of her when Adrian suddenly plunges his tongue into her.
“Oh god…right there…” she gasps.
She moans his name, pleas falling off her lips. Despite the overwhelming feelings coursing through her, she forces her eyes to stay open. There is something so deliciously arousing about watching him like this, his head between her legs, one hand gripping her thigh while the other slowly drifts to her center, his warm, wet tongue bringing her closer and closer to completely coming apart. His thumb slowly draws circles over her sensitive nub, and her muscles tense.
“Adrian…Adrian…I...”
She stops thinking, stops forming any real words. All that comes out are incoherent noises. All she can feel is Adrian, his hands and his mouth, his strong arms keeping her from slumping to the shower floor when she comes.
In a daze, her hands running automatically through his wet hair, Cam feels Adrian gently lower her leg back down and kiss his way up her stomach and chest. He captures her lips in a hungry kiss, and his fingers draw patterns across her lower back.
When she can bring herself to move more, she loops her arms back around his neck, and whimpers into his kisses. There’s something just as arousing about being able to taste herself on his tongue, especially when Adrian leans back to murmur, “Have I told you how good you taste?”
That elicits a shuddering moan, and one of her hands drifts down between them, wanting to touch him. He’s hot and hard, throbbing against her hip, pre-cum coating her thumb when she glides it over his tip. Adrian groans her name but stills her motions. Cam frowns.
“Not today, Camille,” he says in a low voice, and she bites her lip so hard that she tastes the faint metallic tang of blood.
Still Camille. He’s not done.
“I don’t believe I’ve fully proven my point yet,” he says, and she jumps when his fangs lightly prick her neck again.
He actually really, really has, she thinks (though she meant what she’d said; the song was nothing but catchy words), but as Adrian shuts the water off, wraps a towel around her, and leads her to the bed, Cam isn’t going to argue about him proving the lyrics wrong even more.