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“Fuck, you are incredible.”
“Should I go on?” I murmured.
He deftly shook his head.
“Not unless you want pre-ejac all over your belly.”
The crude words made me snort with laughter, but he simply smiled then brushed his lips over mine more firmly as his palm slid up the hem of my dress, his fingers whispering across my skin.
“We can’t do this with them so close,” I breathed, hating the words coming out of my mouth.
“Why not? They’re fucking just over there. They won’t notice us while they’re busy.”
“But she’s your ex,” I exclaimed quietly.
“Exactly, so I don’t give a single shit what she or her little boyfriend thinks.” He paused, his fingers barely stroking the seam between my legs. “It only matters to me what you think.”
Swallowing hard, I had to decide for myself what I wanted. And Lord, did I want him.
Gliding my fingers through the slightly overgrown hair on the back of his head. I fisted it and lowered his head until he was kissing me with urgency as if the moment between us might slip away.
“I need you,” I whispered, pulling him closer to kiss the shell of his ear, “...inside me.”
His lips smiled against mine.
“Do you think you can stay quiet?” he murmured, his hand finally slipping over my mound, palming it.
“Yes,” I breathed.
He chuckled.
“Liar.”
And then he kissed me.
I moaned into his mouth as his fingers left me, then moved to pinch my nipple through my cotton dress.
“Quiet, or I’ll have to stop,” he told me, then flipped me to my belly, my hips now in his hands.
I gripped the blankets beneath us and smothered a gasp as he shoved up the skirt of my dress and pulled on the band of my underwear until the cool air of the night hit my bare skin.
“Spread your knees,” he told me, then smacked my rear, eliciting a yelp from me.
A loud moan filtered through the night as Owen’s hands tightened on my hips, gripping so tight I would likely have bruises the next day.
My yelp melted away as his fingers traced down to my slit, rubbing them through my slick heat there before entering me.
I whimpered. It’d been too long since I’d had him this way, and even his fingers had me panting and squirming beneath him. Between school, work, and him spending the weekends with his boys, we hardly got time to do this, it seemed. Not often enough for my taste, anyway.
Biting down on my lip, I tried not to make any more noise. I wasn’t about to test him to find out if he truly would stop.
“Fuck, you’re wet,” he ground out, curling his fingers just right until I was writhing.
“Stop torturing me,” I mumbled, my words smothered by my face smashed into the blanket underneath us.
He seemed to have heard me though, and he slipped his hand away, leaving me feeling so empty.
Just then, he turned me again until I oomphed onto my back. He moved forward and with a single thrust, was balls deep.
