I don’t stop. My thrusts are furious and rough. I can feel one her heels digging into the small of my back, and I roll my hips. Reaching for and bumping the perfect spot over and over. She goes off again. This time crying out my name like a prayer. I roar. Milking my dick and knowing I’ve made her come twice on my dick, knowing her warm, silky cunt has a chokehold on me, I let go.
One, two, three thrusts, and I’m done for.
My spine burns as my balls unload on a roar. I bite down on her neck, and she clings to me. Her pussy squeezes and milks me. Ribbon after ribbon of my seed shoots into her sweet pussy. Bone-sating pleasure washes over me, leaving me spent and exhausted. I drop on top her, but I’m not ready to leave the silky smoothness of her body.
I just fucked her bareback, and I am going to make sure my seed takes its place in her body.
6
TESSA
We spent the entire day and night together. Attached at the hip, we only stopped to text Eli that I was okay and going to wait the storm out at Owen’s house. But that was mostly because Eli was blowing up Owen’s phone like crazy.
After that, though, we were insparable.
Passion burned brighter than the fire he’d lit up in the fireplace in his bedroom. We’ve been tangled up in one another so tight, I let myself get lost completely. Not sure of where he starts and I end.
When Owen said he was going to warm me up, he wasn’t kidding me. He did that and so much more as our bodies got slick with sweat that dried off after we found our high and came back when we got going again. Round after round. Both of us insatiable, almost as if making up for lost time.
I am sore but utterly satisfied.
I always thought it was impossible when I read in romance novels that the heroine had actually lost count of how many times she orgasmed. Now I know firsthand just how was incredibly possible it was. I’ve been in his home for over twenty-four hours, but I find myself sitting in his kitchen for the firsttime. That’s another thing. He fed me in bed the entire day. I’ve never been so spoiled. I can’t even remember the last time I had a homecooked meal that hasn’t come from his mom’s kitchen.
He flips a pancake, and my lips twitch. I love discovering things about him. Owen Woodman may be a recluse, only leaving his house to visit his mom or brothers, but he can cook like a five-star chef. I look around the space as I sip the hot chocolate he made me and notice how beautiful it is. And again, I get the feeling certain things in it look vaguely familiar to things I have saved on my Dream Home Pinterest board.
“They’re saying the blizzard is worse than they expected,” he shares over his shoulder.
“Oh, yeah?” I saw the same notice on my weather app when I quickly checked my phone.
Living in the mountains, I know just how unpredictable Mother Nature can be. We may be in early spring, but a blizzard is possible all the way through May.
“You going to be okay with me being here with you for a week?” I ask, trying to shake off the sudden nervousness I’m feeling.
“I guess.” He grins, giving me a sexy wink that makes my belly flutter as his eyes meet mine. I know he’s being playful with me, but a thought in the back of my head doesn’t let my smile reach my eyes. Doubt starts to crawl up my spine and fill my head. What if this week is all we have? What if it’s all he wants? He shared how much he’s fantasized about me and how long he’s wanted me. But what if I don’t measure up to his expectations?
“Hey, what’s up?” he asks, his dark eyes on mine.
“Nothing.” I shake my head, but I can see he doesn’t believe me.
“Really?” He turns the stove off. “I know you, princess. What’s up?” he presses, and before I can open my mouth to lie, he’s right in front of me. His fingers in my hair. My eyes flutter,and a breathy moan escapes from me. “Did I take you too hard this morning?”
“Which time?” I sass. He groans at the reminder. My heart smiles at the deep sound of his laughter.
“I’ve been a little… voracious.”
“Hmm,” I moan, opening my eyes and not in the least bit surprised his eyes are still trained on me. If someone had asked me just two days ago if I thought I would find myself in his kitchen, I would have laughed in their faces. Yet after a little over twenty-four hours together, here I am. With Owen touching me, looking at me in a way that makes me think of forevers and has my stupid little heart hoping for what’s probably impossible.
And I am not going to overthink it.
Not yet at least.
“Sore?” he asks.
“Just a little,” I admit.
“Okay.” He dips his face and drops a kiss on the tip of my nose. “How about after breakfast?—"
“You mean brunch?” I tease, and he smiles.
