I shivered.
“Take my clothes off?” I managed.
“Oh, fuck yes,” he murmured as he got to work.
First, he gathered my skirt, fisting the fabric in both hands and gently pulling it down, like he was unwrapping a gift. He let out a sigh of appreciation as he tossed the crumpled thing on the ground.
“You are fuckingstunning,” he said as he ran his hand from my lower stomach and down my thighs. “Absolutely perfect.”
It was a featherlight caress, but it was enough to get a shaky breath out of me.
“And now this,” he said, leaning forward to gentle my tank off, leaving me in just my bra.
Owen gazed down at me hungrily and my stomach tightened in response. I wasn’t used to being so openly admired. So appreciated. My skin heated as his eyes traced over me, followed by his hand. He cupped my breasts over the lace of my bra and brushed his thumb over each nipple. I arched my back to try to get closer to his hand as it traveled down my torso.
I reached up to clasp his shoulder, to try to pull him down to me again.
He grasped my wrist tightly and shook his head. “No... I need to look at you.”
When he released me, I slid my hand under his sleeve, hoping that my touch would be enough to refocus him on something more than just looking. His arm was a brick of muscle, and I couldn’t wait to feel it wrapped around me.
He finally finished his inch-by-inch inventory of my nearly naked body and leaned down to kiss me again. We crashed together, as if the few seconds of not touching and kissing was a reset and had tripled our hunger for each other.
We somehow ended up on our knees on the couch, wrapped around each other and holding on for dear life.
I wanted every inch of him. In the frenzy of Owen focusing on the mechanics of unfastening my bra, I managed to slip his shirt over his head to reveal his chest. The broad expanse was yet another secret he’d been hiding from me. I traced it with my fingertips, gentling through the scattering of hair along his pecs, then flattened my palms against his skin and slid them around to his back.
How was he sosoft?
Owen rumbled against my mouth as I slid my hand down to cup his ass through his jeans.
It was hard to focus on anything other than the way he was working me into a frenzy, slipping inside of me, teasing my tender nub until I had to bite down on his shoulder to keep from crying out. I felt like I could come within seconds.
I finally managed to reach between us to pull at the button on his jeans, clumsy with need. I shoved them down enough that I could grasp his hard length through his boxers while he kept touching me, edging me closer.
I wasn’t shocked to discover that he was packing yet another surprise for me. I had no clue how he hid it in the loose basketball shorts he wore, but his cock was a monster.
“Condom,” he rasped. “Damn it.”
He clutched his half-down jeans and speed-waddled to what I assumed was a powder room. I giggled when I heard him muttering expletives as cabinet doors and drawers opened and closed.
“Victory,” he said as he stumbled back to me, holding his jeans up with one hand and the condom in the other. He raised it to his mouth to rip it open.
“Now wait a second,” I scolded softly. “My turn.”
I pushed him back a little so that I could peel his jeans and boxers farther down his thighs. Owen watched me, his stomach concave and his breath husky as I gripped him. I leaned down and kissed the glistening tip, and he let his head drop back with a groan. He threaded his fingers in my hair and wrapped it around his hand, gripping tightly.
I opened my lips to take his length in my mouth, and I was barely halfway down his thick shaft when he pulled away abruptly, making a wounded noise like it took every ounce of his strength to stop me.
I ignored him and continued working his cock with my tongue, taking him all the way in my mouth.
“Fuck...” Owen whispered as he hit the back of my throat.
My gag reflex was nonexistent.
“I’m stopping you now,” he whispered unconvincingly.
He gave my hair a little tug, but I gripped onto his hips tighter.
