Once he’s done and I’ve rinsed my mouth, he lifts me back off the counter and places me on the floor, smacking my ass as he reaches around to brush his own teeth.
I watch his biceps flex with each pass of the toothbrush, highlighting the reaper in his sleeve tattoo. The scythe looks almost real, like it would harvest my soul if it touched me. I’m so transfixed I don’t notice when he finishes until his hands capture my face, pulling me in for a kiss.
Lust swirls in my body, firing a jolt straight to my pussy with the way his hands are gripping me. They move from my face into my hair and then down to my ass as if he’s trying to touch every inch of me all at once.
I squeal, wrapping my legs around him when he hoists me up and walks us back into his room, lowering us to the bed, never once disconnecting our lips.
He nips me before finally pulling away, “We were interrupted the other night. There was so much more I wanted to give you—that I’m going to give you.”
Owen’s hand slides between us, slipping between my folds. His thumb finds my clit just as his middle and ring fingers enter me.
I whimper at how wet I am for him already, remembering that night and how hard I’d come at the sight of being watched, at the way Lev’s blue-gray eyes burned with hunger.
“You’re thinking about that night, aren’t you, Angel— the way Wy and I filled you as Wes, Lev, and Seb watched?”
My only answer is to dig my nails into his muscled back, moaning as he rubs my juices over my clit, pumping his fingers inside me.
“Answer me,” he commands. “Is the thought of them all lusting for you with their dicks hard in their pants turning you on right now? Is that what has your tight cunt weeping while trying to hold my hands hostage?”
My mind is a buzz of emotions as I feel my mounting orgasm with each pump of his hand. On the fourth plunge of his fingers, I scream, “Yes!”
Owen slides his fingers, soaked in my arousal, out of me, bringing them to my mouth. “Open,” he directs, and my mouth falls open, sucking in his fingers just as he brings his mouth down on mine chasing my taste.
I hear a drawer open and the sound of a foil packet. Owen ends the kiss, tearing open the condom, sliding it on, and then pulling me up from the bed until he’s lying down and I’m positioned on top of him.
Pressing my hands to his chest, I lift my hips and spread my legs, preparing to ease my way down his length, but Owen’s hand shoots out, gripping my waist and raising his hips, thrusting up in one fast snap.
“Fuck,” we both shout, pausing long enough to give me time to adjust. If I thought him filling me from behind made me feel full, me on top is in a galaxy of its own.
His hips start to roll, and I grind down on him, picking up speed once I find my rhythm.
“I love being inside of you. Your cunt wrapped on my cock is better than killing,” he murmurs.
Did he say killing?
I don’t have time to process his words because his thrusts intensify. Each raise of my hips is met with one of his own. My waist circles as I grind down on his dick, brushing my clit against his pubic bone.
His hands reach up, squeezing my breast.
“Put these fucking tits in my mouth.” He groans when his command makes my pussy clench as I slide back down his shaft.
I lean forward, bringing my breast to his mouth, and his lips wrap around my nipple. My head falls back, my mouth falls open as I moan, “Shit. Owen!”
A click brings my face back down. He’s holding the black and gold knife he used that night. I shiver, remembering the barbaric act of him licking my blood off the blade.
“Wh-what are you going to do with that?” I ask.
His mouth unlatches from my nipple, and I grumble in protest, wishing he could answer while still devouring it.
Without pulling out, he sits up, and I slowly rock my hips in our new position.
“Ah—shit. Ariah. Fuck,” he grits through clenched teeth. His hand grips the knife like he’s about to snap it.
Gaining a semblance of composure, he answers, “You're going to carve an ‘A’ into my chest.”
Sexy, crazy man fucking me say what now?
“Excuse me?” I finally get my brain to tell my mouth to say.
