How could one man change his mind like this? How could one man tear down his walls and get him to trust like it was nothing? Owen didn’t need saving, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t injured. He was never supposed to have let another alpha into his life, and now he was letting himself be ownedbyone.
What was hethinking?
As Crawford tugged him a little closer and rocked their hips together as they danced, Owen knew. Enslaved to the beat of the bass as it reverberated in his chest, Owen accepted it as truth. On the surface he put on a tough act, but beneath it all he was still the same scared teenager whose world had just been shattered and who had nowhere lefttoturn.
Crawford was the salvation Owen had never had, and Owen didn’t want to lethimgo.
Owen matched Crawford’s rhythm and let his head rest against Crawford’s shoulder as their clothed erections brushed one against the other. It wasn’t dancing—it wasfarfrom dancing—but it was getting Owen hard, and he couldn’t bring himself to stop. It didn’t matter who saw, who gawked, or who hide their mouth and snickered. Not one of them was going to shame him into stopping. Crawford was his champion, and Owen knew that for as long as they were together, Crawford would defend himassuch.
“You feel amazing.” Crawford’s voice rumbled like thunder in the distance, the storm directed into Owen’s ear so he could hear it over the music. “You’re doingsowell.”
Their hips ground together, and Owen moaned and wrapped his arms tightly around Crawford’s neck as he chased the pleasure that shot through him. Somewhere along the way they’d ended up close to the wall. Crawford shoved him up against it, careful to brace Owen’s head, and Owen looked up at him in awe as Crawford looked down at him in return. A roll of Crawford’s hips stole the sense from Owen’s head and reduced him to jelly. Up against the wall, he couldn’t grind back—all he could dowastake.
And take.Andtake.
Owen’s eyes started to close, and he let his head fall back as Crawford worked into him. Owen was sure he was goingtocome.
“I’m so hard for you,” Owen whispered. He didn’t know if Crawford could hear it or not, but he had to say it. His arms were still locked around Crawford’s neck. Lights flashed around them, illuminating Crawford’s features sometimes, plunging them in darkness at others. “Please, take me somewhere quiet.Please.”
Owen knew it was too soon for sex, and he knew there was a chance he’d regret it in the morning, but he couldn’t help himself. Since the kiss in the parking lot, he’d wanted more. To feel Crawford grind against him, to feel how hard he was for Owen, to know that he wore Crawford’s collar… it was all too much. If Crawford wanted him, he’d won him. Owenwantedhim.
And when Crawford’s hand dipped down to cup Owen’s aching member, Owen was sure he’d get everything hewanted.
Disappointment camequickly.
“No.”
At first Owen didn’t understand the words from Crawford’s lips. Crawford’s hand tightened against Owen’s bulge, putting blissful pleasure where Owen needed it the most. Owen pushed into his hand in response, cravingfriction.
“Not tonight,” Crawford said. He tilted his head to the side and ran their lips together, and Owen leaned in to return the kiss only for Crawford to pull back and deny him. “You’re notreadyyet.”
“I’m ready,” Owen objected. A small part of his mind was aware that the whole club could see him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Why would Crawford tempt him only to deny him? Owen balanced on the edge between control and release, and all it would take was a small push for him to topple into unparalleled pleasure. He wanted to come so badly. “Please, I’mready.”
“No, you’re not.” Crawford drew back to look at him, wicked delight in his eyes. Owen whimpered out of need and pressed into Crawford’s hand, body begging for more. “Not yet. You needmoretime.”
“Please.”
“I meant what I said, pet,” Crawford said firmly. He squeezed one last time, then took his hand away. “You did well tonight—don’t spoil it. You’ve already been through a lot and I don’t want to overwhelm you. What you need to do now isleave.”
“But—”
Crawford placed a finger over Owen’s lips. Owen wanted to wrest his head to the side and speak his mind, but he knew better. He’daskedfor this. Crawford had made it clear what was expected of him, and Owen knew what he hadtodo.
He could obey, or he could disobey. The choicewashis.
And so too would be theconsequence.
“You’re going to leave. You can button up your shirt if you want to, and you can even remove your collar once you’re outside the club—I’m fine with that for now. You’ll go home. You’ll go to bed. You’ll carry on with your weekend, and you’ll go to work onMonday.”
Owen listened. Crawford’s finger was still pressed to his lips, demandingsilence.
“What you won’t do at any time this weekend, or any time during the next week, is touchyourself.”
A chill swept through Owen like frost over early morning dew. The cold seeped into his balls and spread, and he longed to thrust up against Crawford and work the deliriously blissful sensation out. But he didn’t. Instead, he shivered inappreciation.
Not touch himself? After what Crawford had donetohim?
“Your cock belongs to me,” Crawford told him in little more than a whisper. Owen heard it over the music like the room was silent. “I don’t want your hands on it. I don’t want you rutting it into a mattress, or a pillow, or a sock. I don’t want it to penetrateanything.”
