4
LENA
I t's just past 11 PM when I hear something downstairs. This house is undeniably old, and it creaks and groans all the time, but this sound is different. It's too deliberate. Too calculated.
I slip out of bed and creep down the hall toward the staircase. My heart races as I peer around the corner, straining to see anything in the dark. There's nothing there.
But I'm sure I heard something. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves, then I descend the stairs as quietly as possible. I listen for any hint of movement, but it's quiet. Too quiet.
I reach the bottom of the stairs and look around the foyer, my eyes adjusting to the darkness. The front door is still locked. The windows are all shut tight. Nothing seems out of place. But I can't shake that something is wrong. With my hands shaking, I slowly pull the curtains aside from the big bay window in the living room … and see a figure rushing through the dark away from the house.
I feel like a bucket of cold water has been poured over my head. Panic settles in my chest as I run upstairs, quivering as I grab my phone and open the recent call list, planning on calling Jake, but for some reason, I call Owen instead.
He answers on the first ring. "Lena?"
"Owen, please," I say in a strained voice, "Please come back."
I can hear the urgency in his tone. "What's wrong?"
"Someone was here … looking in the windows of the house," I whisper, my voice shaking. "I think they're still here."
There's a long pause, then Owen's voice cuts through the silence, calm and reassuring. "I'll be right there, okay? Don't worry, Lena. Just stay put."
He hangs up, and I clutch the phone to my chest, feeling both terrified and relieved that Owen is on his way. Ten minutes later, I peek out the bedroom window and watch as a truck comes racing down the street and skids to a stop in front of the house.
Owen jumps out, looking around frantically for any signs of danger. He sees me at the window, and I can feel the intensity of his gaze even from a distance. He motions for me to stay put, and I nod, watching as he circles around the back of the house.
After a few minutes, he reappears, jogging up to the front door. I fling it open before he can knock, and he immediately pulls me into his arms, hugging me tightly. "Are you okay?" he asks, his voice low and gruff.
"I'm fine," I murmur, wrapping my arms around his waist. "I'm just … I'm so glad you're here."
He rubs my back soothingly, holding me close. Owen doesn't ask questions, and I don't offer any answers. We simply stand there in the foyer, holding each other. It feels good and right to be in his arms like this. To know that he's here for me, no matter what.
Eventually, Owen pulls away slightly, looking down at me with a concerned expression. "What happened, Lena?"
I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. "I heard something downstairs. When I checked the windows, I saw someone running away."
Owen frowns. "It was probably just some dumb kids messing around."
I shake my head. "No, it wasn't kids. It was..." My voice trails off, and I hesitate, not wanting to sound crazy. "I think it was my neighbor earlier, Mr. Grayson."
He blows out a long breath, but the tension in his muscles tells me he's beyond angry. "I'm going to go handle that motherfucker?—"
"Wait," I say, laying a hand on his chest. "We don't even know for sure that it was him. I mean, I think I'm right, but I don't want to risk us being wrong."
"I'm not going to leave you alone here with someone potentially stalking around your house, Lena."
"Then stay."
He hesitates, then nods. "Fine. I'll grab some blankets and stuff from the truck."
Before he can turn away, I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down into a heated kiss. He's momentarily surprised, but his hands land on my hips, and he tugs me closer.
After a moment, I pull back enough to speak against his lips. "You're doing it again."
"What?" he asks, sounding dazed.
I smirk. "Rescuing me."
His eyes fill with something primal, possessive. "Trust me, Lena. I'm not doing this out of some misplaced sense of heroism. You know damn well what's going on here. You're important to me.”
"Then prove it," I breathe.
He growls deep in his chest and crushes his mouth to mine, kissing me fiercely. His hands grip my hips tightly as he walks us backward until my back hits the wall. My fingers tangle in his hair as he kisses along my jawline and down my neck, sucking on that sensitive spot just below my ear.
I sigh softly, pressing against him, desperate for more contact. He’s pinning me between the wall and his muscular body, caging me in with his arms. I'm wearing barely anything—a matching silk pajama set with just a tank and shorts—and I can feel every inch of him, hot and hard.
"You're so fucking beautiful, Lena," he murmurs, nipping at my earlobe. "So fucking sexy."
His hands trail down my sides, reaching the hem of my tank top and sliding underneath. I gasp as his rough palms graze my bare skin, sliding up to cup my breasts. I’m spinning out, aching for relief.
"Owen..." I breathe, tangling my fingers in his hair. "Please."
He groans, pressing a heated kiss against my neck. "Are you sure?"
I nod frantically, tugging on his hair. "Yes. I need you. Now."
He kisses me again, deeper this time, his tongue stroking mine in a way that sends sparks of pleasure shooting through my entire body. I can't believe this is happening, but I know one thing for sure—it's about damn time he stopped pretending this isn't where we've been destined to end up after our tryst on the attic floor.
I reach down and grab the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it off in one quick motion. I run my hands over his broad shoulders and muscled chest, feeling his skin grow warm beneath my touch.
Owen makes a satisfied groan as he slides his fingers into my hair, tilting my head back so he can kiss a hot path down my neck. His other hand moves lower, gripping my ass firmly, pressing me against him even harder. I can feel his erection straining against his jeans, and the knowledge that I'm turning him on makes my heart race even faster.
His hand slides around my hip, dipping under the hem of my pajamas, finding bare skin. He lets out a low growl as he discovers there's nothing underneath.
"Fuck," he mutters, cupping my ass roughly before sliding his hand down between my thighs to cup my pussy possessively. "You're driving me crazy, Lena. Where is the bedroom? I refuse to fuck you on the floor again."
"Upstairs," I manage to say through gritted teeth. "Second door on the left."
He kisses me fiercely, then scoops me up in his arms and carries me toward the stairs. We make it halfway up before he loses patience and sets me on my feet, pushing my back against the wall.
He kisses me hard, sliding two fingers deep inside me, working them in and out slowly as he sucks on my tongue. I moan, digging my nails into his shoulders, desperately needing more.
He breaks away from the kiss, trailing his lips down my neck and chest until he reaches my breasts. He shoves my tank top up, exposing my bare skin. I'm not wearing a bra, and the hungry look in his eyes as he leans down to suck one nipple into his mouth nearly makes me come right there.
I cry out, tangling my fingers in his hair. His free hand moves lower, grabbing my ass roughly to drag me even harder against him.
The stairs are old and smaller than I'm comfortable with, even if my mind is a haze of lust. "Bedroom, Owen. Bedroom."
He groans in frustration but steps back, pulling me with him up the rest of the stairs. We're kissing again by the time we get to my room, fumbling our way toward the bed.
I tug at his jeans, desperate to feel his skin on mine, and he helps me push them down before stepping out of them. Then his hands are everywhere, touching me, teasing me, driving me crazy with desire.
We fall onto the bed together, and there's no hesitation now, no holding back. He makes quick work of my silky pajamas, and his lips are immediately on my skin, starting right below my belly button, before he licks a line over my hip bone.
"Oh God," I gasp, arching against him. "Keep going.”
He doesn't respond, too busy sliding lower until he reaches my inner thigh. His beard tickles my skin as he kisses his way higher, closer to where I need him most. And when his tongue finally flicks against my clit, I nearly come undone.
Two of his thick fingers slide inside, curling upwards until he hits the spot that makes me see stars. I grip his hair tighter, pulling his mouth to where I need him most, and he obeys by sucking my clit between his lips.
I'm so close. So fucking close. My body is trembling, every nerve ending on fire as he works me with his fingers and tongue. When he adds a third finger, stretching me just right, my entire body shudders. The wet sounds of his mouth on me and the sight of his dark head between my legs make my head spin.
"Come for me, Lena," he murmurs against my flesh, never slowing the motion of his hand. "Let go."
And I do.
I explode around him with a scream, shaking in his grasp as he holds me still with one arm, determined to keep his mouth on me until the bitter end. He keeps going, drawing out my orgasm until I can barely breathe. My heart feels like it's going to beat out of my chest.
Finally, after what seems like forever, I slump back against the pillows, utterly spent. But Owen isn't done yet. He kisses his way up my stomach, pausing briefly to suck each nipple before continuing to my neck and jaw. By the time our lips meet again, I'm ready for another round.
He pulls away with a smile, resting his forehead against mine. "How was that?"
I run my fingers through his hair, giving it a playful tug. "Almost worth the wait."
His eyes darken at the challenge. "Just almost? We're going to have to fix that."
Before I can say anything else, he pulls me tightly against him as he rolls onto his back. Then, without any warning, he flips us over so that I'm straddling him.
"What are you doing?" I ask breathlessly.
He smirks up at me. "Letting you steer the ship."
I shake my head. "You're crazy," I murmur before leaning down to press my lips against his neck. His stubble scratches my cheek as I move lower, kissing along his collarbone before trailing my tongue across his chest. I glance up at him, reveling in the need in his expression. I continue exploring every inch of exposed skin, tracing every line and curve of muscle with my fingertips, unable to get enough.
He palms my asscheeks, massaging them as he coaxes me into position. My Owen is anxious to be inside me, and even though I'm still buzzing from the last orgasm, I feel the same.
"In a hurry?" I tease as he guides me over his cock, pressing the tip against my slit.
"You had your turn already. Now I want mine."
Deciding that I've tortured him enough, I rise and position myself over his cock. Owen is rock hard, and when I sink down on his length, his hands grip my hips tightly. We both exhale shakily as our bodies merge together, and he buries his face against my neck, grunting softly.
He lifts his head, kissing me passionately, swallowing every whimper and gasp. When we break apart for air, his eyes are full of lust and desire, but also something else. Something deeper and far more meaningful.
I lean forward and rest my forehead against his. "Don't overthink this," I whisper, cupping his cheek. "We're exactly where we belong."
His voice is husky and strained. "Lena, I'm going to ruin you for any other man."
And then he thrusts upwards, filling me completely.
My eyes shut as I adjust to him inside me, stretching me deliciously. "You already have," I murmur before kissing him deeply.
Our bodies move together perfectly—just like they did in the attic the first time. Only now there's no hesitation or guilt between us, just pure, unadulterated desire.
"Fuck, Lena," Owen groans, wrapping his arms around me tightly as he kisses along my neck and shoulder. "You feel so goddamn good."
I bite my lower lip to hold back a moan, grinding down on him harder as pleasure courses through my veins. Everything about this moment is perfect—the sound of our ragged breathing, the heat radiating between us. It's almost too much to handle. I'll savor the memory for the rest of my life.
Sitting up fully, I lean back, bracing my hands on the mattress behind me so I can ride him in earnest, working my body so he can see every inch of him sliding in and out of my pussy. His eyes are hooded with lust as he watches me take control, his grip on my hips tightening.
I smirk at him, moving faster, loving how crazy I'm driving him. "Do you think anyone else has ever made you feel like this?"
He shakes his head, pulling me closer. "No one else even comes close, baby."
Ever the gentleman, Owen reaches up to put his thumb over my clit, providing just the right amount of pressure as I fuck him. The addition of the sharp pleasure from his thumb combined with the deep, earth-shaking feeling of his filling me up has me reeling, and it's all I can do to keep in control of my body and not let him just take over. I want to make him feel good. I want to make him addicted.
As I get closer, each time Owen hits home, driving me higher and higher, I can't keep up the slow pace. I come forward against him, hands braced on his chest, legs doing all the work for me as I fuck him hard and fast. He keeps rubbing my clit, watching me with fire in his eyes, sweat starting to glisten on his skin.
"Don't stop," I pant, my fingernails digging into his chest. "Please don't stop..."
I throw my head back as I come again, letting the sensations overwhelm me. My mind goes blank, colors flashing behind my eyelids, muscles clenching and unclenching. I'm vaguely aware that I've stopped riding him, but now Owen has grabbed my hips with both hands and is fucking up into me as he seeks his own release. His grip is almost too tight, but it's what I need right now—something to hold onto when I feel like I might float away on a cloud of pure ecstasy.
Finally, I hear him curse, and he thrusts up into me hard, painting my inner walls as he comes hard. My eyes flutter open to watch him orgasm. There's something so primal about seeing him lose control like this, knowing that I caused it.
Afterward, we collapse together in a sweaty tangle of limbs, still panting heavily. His arms wrap around me instinctively, holding me close.
"Fuck," he mutters against my skin. "You're going to kill me, woman."
I laugh breathlessly, resting my chin on his chest. "If anything, you're the one who's going to give me a heart attack. That was incredible."
He chuckles and presses a soft kiss to the top of my head before relaxing back onto the pillows, stroking my hair idly. "So much for going home and thinking it over."
I giggle, "So much for you coming over to protect me. Someone could have robbed me blind while we were fucking, and I'd have no idea."
"It's always a risk," he says, trying to sound serious, and I giggle harder, pressing my face into his neck.
His fingers continue moving through my hair, and it feels so nice that I can't bring myself to move. I snuggle closer, draping one leg over his hips, smiling. "Stay tonight."
Owen exhales. "I was planning to anyway. Just not in the same bed as you. But you've convinced me, I think."
A tingle of satisfaction runs through me. "So, what now?"
He trails his hand down my side and onto my ass, giving it a firm squeeze. "Now, you're going to sleep."
"And after that?" I ask teasingly.
He gives my butt another squeeze before letting go and kissing my forehead. "We'll just have to see."