Like now, his strength holding me up as he did delicious things to me with his mouth and tongue, moving me as if I was his plaything, his toy with which he could play.
I clung on to the metal frame as I came, attempting to muffle my cry in case someone next door could hear.
He didn’t give me chance to breath. As soon as my legs relaxed, now soggy noodles, he brought me down to his cock. I grasped it, knowing where this was going, anticipation coursing through me. A fresh rush of wetness hit my centre, needing to have him in me. He was canny, was Owen. He knew that if he made me come without fingering me or entering me, I’d want him inside.
I was guided down by his strong arms onto his cock, feeling his size stretch me. The groan that came from him told me all I needed to know about how tight I was after my orgasm.
He stilled when he was fully seated inside, his breathing hard and shallow. “This isn’t going to set any endurance records.”
I shook my head, not caring. Every nerve ending in my body was on high alert. All I needed was another touch, another thrust and I’d explode again, shattering into pieces that only Owen could place back together.
He started to move me, his own hips bucking in shallow movements that seemed to hit the magic spot, taking me closer towards that precipice.
I found the strength in my legs to start to move and our pace became frantic. My hands were on his shoulders, pressing down as he pushed into me, whispering words about how he felt inside me, how I looked, making promises about what else he wanted to do.
My orgasm was hard, wet. He gripped my hips, steadying me as he poured into my heat with a cry, his whole body tensing, his eyes gazing into mine. I felt my chest swell like it did every time with everything I felt for this man who had become my world.
I collapsed onto his chest, feeling his heart racing. The hands that could bring me to orgasm so easily now held me, his kisses soft against my hair.
“I love you, Payton Callaghan.” It was a whisper, but it was strong enough to make saltwater leak from my eyes. “I don’t think I’ll ever stop telling you that.”
Breakfast was still happening by the time we dragged ourselves out of bed, showered and headed out into civilisation. Seph was making himself useful cooking bacon and sausages, squeezing the odd orange and generally smiling. He’d annoyed me when we’d been shopping, not taking anything seriously, completely unbothered by the fact that yet again he didn’t have Christmas presents for any of us, bar the youngest.
But then I remembered the Seph-ness of him. The easy going, laid-back boy who’d morphed into an adult who loved so goddamn hard. He hated being on his own, craved company and loathed waking up and having no one to speak with, hence when he hadn’t been crashing with one of us, he would have a series of one-night stands.
He was Tigger from theWinnie-the-Poohstories, bounding everywhere, continually upbeat, until he wasn’t.
“Morning,” Seph looked up with a grin.
I noticed what he was wearing, an apron with ‘Santa’s Little Helper’ written across the middle, only the background was what looked like a cartoon body builder wearing a tiny jock strap.
It wasn’t the most appetising image.
“Where on earth did you get that from?”
He looked down and grinned again. “Found it in Mum’s cupboard. Think she must’ve bought it for Dad.”
I rolled my eyes and headed to the coffee machine. I didn’t need to think too much about that for the sake of my sanity.
“Max and Vic are here. I helped them carry in what felt like a dozen suitcases while you were sleeping, or whatever it was you were doing.” Seph buttered a bread roll, glancing over at Owen. “You need to replenish some energy?”
Owen chuckled. Very little ever rankled him. “I won’t turn down a bacon butty. With ketchup.”
He devoured it in about three mouthfuls, and I wondered if he’d caught his manners from my twin.
My sister-in-law to be’s voice filtered down the hallway into the kitchen, her words making Maxwell laugh. I’d never quite gotten over the effect that Victoria had on Max: since she’d been around, he’d been lighter; the weight of the world that he’d carried had lessened and he’d smiled more. Mainly at Vic, but it had been an improvement given that he’d never really smiled at anyone before.
“Payton!” Vic’s face beamed as she saw me, stepping over quickly and giving me a hug that was heavy despite her petite size. “I haven’t seen you for weeks!”
This probably wasn’t true, as she’d been in the offices to yank Max away from work when I’d been there, but we hadn’t had the chance to catch up. This season was always busy; clients wanted their cases to be closed before the New Year, everyone was rushing before offices shut for the Christmas break. There had just about been enough time to get semi-organised for a week and a half away, and five minutes for a prayer of having some time to relax.
“Everything’s been such a rush. Are you ready to marry my grumpy brother?” I glanced over her shoulder at Max who was standing there watching us. His eyes were soft; his face relaxed and he couldn’t take his eyes off Victoria, even though it was only her back he could see.
“I think I was ready about six months ago. Sometimes I think we should’ve stuck with the original plan and eloped.”
I shook my head. “No. We have to see you off. We have to make sure you definitely say yes and make sure Max is your responsibility from now on.”
There was a cough, a very fake one. “You realise I’m standing right here?”
