“What was your first clue?” he said against the skin of her throat.
She sank her fingers into his muscled back and lifted her hips against the hard length of him. “Some things are hard to miss.”
He reached down between them and eased her damp panties aside. “I’ve noticed a few things myself.”
“Such as?”
He stroked her aching core. “How hot and wet you are, for example.”
She felt the tension in his hard, lean body and in the powerful currents of his aura. She knew that he was fighting to restrain himself. His control was a challenge. She was suddenly determined to win the sensual battle.
She reached down, wrapped her fingers around him, and squeezed experimentally.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” he muttered. He gripped her wrist and pulled her hand away from his erection. “I’m going to be inside you when I come. You’re not ready.”
She scraped her nails lightly down his back and lower. “Trust me, I’m ready.”
He shuddered but he did not abandon the field. “Not quite.”
He took one nipple between his lips and simultaneously began to work the tight bundle of nerves at the top of her core—probing, teasing, massaging.
The orgasm came out of nowhere, cascading through her in deep waves. It stole her breath and dazzled her senses. She flung herself into the chaos, and for a few seconds she was so overwhelmed she didn’t realize that Owen was storming the castle gates.
“Now you’re ready,” he said in a low growl laced with triumph and anticipation.
He surged into her, relentless and desperate, as if everything depended on their union.
She gasped and slapped a palm across her mouth to partially muffle a shriek of outrage. “Shit, shit, shit, stop, damn it, get off.”
“What the—?”
Dazed, he eased free of her body and flopped onto his back. “Well, hell. I should have known. I’m going to take a flying leap here. You taught that sex ed class from a theoretical point of view, didn’t you? Not personal experience.”
She took a few deep breaths. “I wasn’t expecting it to hurt. I’m not a girl. I’m an adult who exercises regularly. I ride bicycles. I own a vibrator.” She paused, remembering the dainty device in her lingerie drawer. “Evidently the model I bought is too small to provide a realistic experience.”
Owen folded his hands behind his head and studied the ceiling. His mouth twitched.
“And I’ll have you know that class I taught was quite popular,” she added.
“I’ll bet it was.”
She leaned over him, feeling very fierce. “Are you laughing at me?”
“I wouldn’t dare.”
“You are laughing at me.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t think it would be a problem.” She frowned. “It shouldn’t have been. I honestly didn’t think you would notice.”
“I think it was your screech of pain followed by ‘Shit, shit, shit, stop, damn it, get off’ that alerted me.”
“I did not screech,” she said. “You’re exaggerating.”
“You screeched, and I, for one, will never forget it. Talk about traumatizing.”
She groaned and fell onto her back. “I was afraid you would stop if you knew that I hadn’t had any practical experience.”
