Page 32 of Owen (Blue Team #1)

I could do that, hell, I wanted that. So what was I waiting for?

I moved my hand from his face, slid both arms around him, and my hands started touching.

They glided from his shoulders to where my heels rested on the small of his back.

Up and down they went and as they did I watched his face start to relax.

“If I’m too rough—”

“You won’t be. Please, Owen, fuck me.”

“No,” he grunted. His hand moved lightning fast and he fisted my hair to keep me still, then he lowered his face down and continued, “No matter how I take you, rough, hard, slow, gentle, bent over the couch, sliding up your ass, however adventurous we get, however dirty we want to play, I will never fuck you. You are not a place to stick my cock. When I’m inside of you, any way I can be, I am not ever fucking you. ”

Okay, I really loved that.

“Okay, honey.”

I didn’t get to say more—not that I was going to say more—but if I were, Owen was done talking and he shared this by slamming his mouth down on mine.

But once his tongue swept my lips and I happily opened for him, he didn’t take the kiss wild.

He kept it sweet. It was wet and deep but not wild.

He controlled everything about the kiss—teasing, light touches of our tongues.

It was in direct contrast to how hard he was driving inside of me.

That was measured, too, but it was hard.

A slow, hard pounding that drove my need through the roof.

I felt every wide inch of him stretching my inner muscles as I clung to him with all four limbs. I touched everywhere I could, lifted my hips to meet his thrusts, my body in tune with his every move, but more—so much more, my thundering heart was fully engaged. I felt everything.

This was the dream.

More than any fantasy I could conjure up.

Owen covering me, connected to me, tying me tighter to him with every swipe of his tongue, every thrust of his cock.

I felt so much, it would take a year to fully understand all I was feeling.

But there was one thing I didn’t need time to think about.

I might have fallen in love with Owen months ago, but never had I loved him more than I did in that moment.

And it wasn’t because my body was on the verge of a monumental orgasm the likes of which no human in the history of humanity had ever had.

No, I loved him more because he had given me back something I’d lost. Myself, my control, my ability to give.

Mine.

And because I had it I could give it to Owen.

And I freaking loved that.

On a downward glide, Owen twisted his hips and grinded the root of his cock against my clit. My head jerked back, unfortunately breaking our kiss.

“Ohmigod,” I groaned.

“Christ,” he returned.

His groan sounded so good it sent a tremor through me and my legs started to loosen.

“Tighter,” Owen commanded.

I complied instantly, used my heels as leverage, and rocked up.

“Harder,” I begged.

“ Jesus , fuck,” he groaned and my pussy shuddered.

“So close,” I warned.

Owen took me harder. So hard I had to hold on to his shoulders while his driving thrusts took me straight to the edge.

“Need to see you. ”

I righted my head and when I did, my body locked.

“Honey,” I breathed.

“Yeah, you finally feel it.”

I did. Though I’d felt it before, the love that shone in his stare couldn’t be missed. I could’ve been blind and I still would’ve felt it, it radiated from him out of every pore.

“Do you feel it?” I asked.

“Straight to my soul.”

“No, what I’m feeling, do you know?”

“Straight to my soul,” he repeated. “Gonna take you there.”

Though I should’ve been the one warning him I was already there. But I didn’t need to because he knew.

Owen buried his face in my neck and breathed in so deeply I not only felt it but I heard it.

“I love the way you smell,” he started. “Love the way you taste, your skin, your mouth, your pussy.” Owen nipped my neck, bringing me closer. “Need you to come, baby.”

“I’m gonna...” I trailed off because my climax was starting to wash over me.

“No, baby, now. I need you to come right fucking now.” He punctuated his demand by sliding his hand under my ass and lifting me, then drove down, grinding hard.

It was partly the friction on my clit that threw me over the edge, but mostly his gruff voice full of sexy gravel that did it.

And just as I’d expected, it was monumental. I felt it everywhere, womb, nipples, clit, every muscle in my body caught fire and singed.

“Fucking, hell,” Owen cursed. “So fucking tight. Gonna take it now, baby, hold tight.”

My sex-muddled, blissed-out mind had no idea what Owen was going to take. But I readily agreed.

“Take what you need.”

Faster. Harder. Rougher. Deeper.

Owen’s mouth worked my neck, his cock between my legs, the light smattering of chest hair abraded my nipples and it built again—fast and furious. My body seized and Owen bit down on the sensitive tendon, planted himself to the hilt, and groaned long and deep.

I was still pulsing around him, my second orgasm sizzling my nerve endings, when Owen lifted his head and I righted mine. The second I did our eyes locked and he started a slow, gentle glide.

“Un- fucking -believable,” Owen moaned and I whimpered my agreement.

“Beautiful,” he continued.

I was still holding on, Owen was still sliding, and all of the earlier tension had faded.

I wasn’t sure if that was because he was mellow from his orgasm or if he was relieved I hadn’t…

no, I wasn’t going to go there and ruin the moment.

My past wasn’t going to creep in and invade the perfection of the moment.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“Nat—”

“No, honey, don’t interrupt me. Thank you for giving me that. All of it. Straight to my soul,” I parroted his earlier statement.

Everything about Owen changed. He was too manly to be described as playful or cute—he was sexy, handsome, downright hot—but the way he was staring down at me with a glint in his eyes and the ghost of a smirk, put him as close to playful as I suspected he could get.

“Not a hardship taking my woman there, baby.”

Yeah, he was being playful.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t. There was something he needed to know and it sucked because it would mean bringing my past into our perfect moment but I had to do it all the same.

I unhooked one of my hands from his shoulder and brought it around so I could reach his face.

I took a second to trace his jaw and feel the stubble there.

Then my mind wandered to how outrageously hot he’d look with a beard.

When I was done visualizing that spectacularly sexy image, I moved my fingertips over his lips, the side of his nose, between his brows, brushed his hair off his forehead, then raked my nails over his scalp.

“I feel clean,” I murmured quietly but I knew Owen heard.

“I’ve never in my life felt clean. You gave me that.

I’ve never been touched with love. You gave me that.

I’ve never known care. You gave me that.

I’ve never felt comfortable being me because there was no part of me that was clean and good to feel comfortable with.

You gave that to me. Thank you,” I finished on a whisper.

“Natasha—”

I had more to say so I said it.

“I figure if a man like you, a good man—brave, honest, bold—can love me then maybe there’s something to love. Maybe I’m not as dirty—”

I shouldn’t have pressed my luck and I knew this when Owen lowered his face to mine, nose to nose, and said, “Again, baby, there is not one motherfucking thing dirty about you.” And since he was close I felt, heard, and again felt the colossal shift in his mood.

“I cannot tell you how pleased I am that you think I gave all of that to you. So don’t mistake me when I tell you I don’t ever want to hear you thank me again.

” I didn’t have time to recover from the hurt he delivered rejecting my gratitude, something I felt deeply about when he explained why.

“You don’t need to thank me for loving you. ”

“Owen—”

Apparently, it was his turn to talk because he kept on saying what he needed to say.

“With that love comes the rest and I don’t need you to thank me for it.

What I need for you to get is you are always safe to be who you are with me.

Say what you want, act how you want to act, be who you want to be.

You trusting me is everything.” Owen gave me more of his heavy weight and finished with, “It says everything.”

Okay, so he’d taken the sting out of not wanting me to thank him.

“So, I can say what I want to say just as long as it’s not thank you.”

Owen narrowed his eyes and since I was now in the mood to be playful because he’d given me two awesome orgasms and made it clear he loved me, I set out to take us back to light and easy.

“May I thank you for dinner?” Owen grunted.

“May I thank you if you do something nice for me?” That earned me another grunt. “May I thank you for orgasms?”

“Yeah, baby, you can thank me for all of that,” he agreed.

“Great,” I wheezed. “Maybe now you can get off of me so I can breathe?”

“I’m getting off all right, but I’m not sure if you’ll be breathing when I’m done,” he said and lifted some of his weight off me.

“So your plan is to kill me.”

“No, baby, my plan is to give you so much to be thankful for you’ll be breathless.”

“And what about you, will you be breathless?”

“Been that way since the moment I saw you. You stole the air straight from my lungs and I haven’t caught my breath since, hope to God I never do.”

I knew the tears brimming in my eyes started to spill down my cheeks, and as tired as I was of crying I didn’t attempt to stop them. Owen gave me a moment to compose myself before he muttered.

“Gonna get rid of this condom. When I get back I want your ass at the edge of the bed, soles of your feet on the mattress, and your knees spread wide.”

That statement took me from emotional to turned on in a nanosecond .

Owen pressed a hard open-mouth kiss against my lips and I felt him smile there.

“Love you, Nat.”

Yeah, my heart was full to bursting.

“I love you, Owen.”

His tipped up lips brushed mine once more before he got out of bed to get rid of the condom. By the time he got back, I was in the position he’d semi-asked but mostly demanded I be in.

Then he commenced making me the most thankful woman in the world and he succeeded spectacularly.

By the time Owen was done I’d lost count of how many orgasms he’d given me, we’d gone through three more condoms, and the only reason Owen didn’t go for another round was because something that sounded a lot like a shoe banged against the wall followed by Gabe’s loud complaint.

I should’ve been embarrassed but I absolutely was not.