Oh, wow.
There’s a very specific kind of panic that comes with realizing a man this large is looking at you with complete emotional sincerity while also being built like a Norse fertility god.
My brain chooses fuckery. “That seems medically unnecessary,” I blurt out.
Owen freezes halfway through opening the condom wrapper. Then he laughs. The laugh of a man who knows exactly what he’s working with.
The sound fills the office so suddenly and warmly that my chest squeezes painfully.
“You’re funny when you’re spiraling,” he says.
“I’m not spiraling.”
“You just inspected my dick.”
“I’m assessing risk.”
His grin turns slow and dangerous. “And?”
My face feels about 1,000 degrees too warm. “Pending further investigation.”
The look he gives me after that nearly melts my internal organs. Then he rolls the condom on with quick efficiency and settles between my knees again, all humor fading from his expression the second his hands settle on my thighs.
There’s that intensity again.
That impossible focus.
Once Owen decides to give someone his full attention, he doesn’t know how to do it halfway.
My pulse stumbles hard when he drags his knuckles lightly along my collarbone. His eyes search mine for another second anyway before he kisses me softly and reaches between us to guide himself against me.
The first slow push inside nearly stops my heart. “Oh, my God.”
Owen’s head drops instantly to my shoulder with a rough sound. “Remy.”
Everything about this feels overwhelming all at once. The stretch. The heat. The sheer size of him. But underneath all of it is this strange, dizzying feeling of rightness that scares me almost more than the physical intensity does.
He stills halfway inside me immediately. “Too much?”
The concern in his voice cuts through the haze instantly.
“No.” I tighten my arms around his shoulders. “No, just—wow. Your dick no longer personally offends me in any way. Chef’s kiss. No notes.”
“Yeah. That’s kind of my review, too.”
I laugh softly despite myself, and the movement shifts us together enough that both of us suck in sharp breaths simultaneously.
Owen’s fingers dig into my hips hard enough to leave marks. “Fuck,” he whispers.
Then he lifts his head and looks directly into my eyes as he slowly pushes the rest of the way inside me.
The eye contact nearly destroys me. Not because it’s dominant. Because it’s vulnerable, like he’s letting me see every single thing he feels.
“Owen,” I say.
His eyes close briefly, like hearing his name from me physically affects him.
“You feel…” He shakes his head once. “I can’t even think right now.”
