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“Fucking hell,” he growled, fingers gripping me almost painfully as he dipped down to kiss me, then grab my rear enough to hoist me up.
I gasped against his lips and folded my arms around his neck until I was in his arms and we were heading to the house.
Was that what women meant when they said they wanted to climb a man like a tree?
My legs wrapped around his hips, trying to help support some of my weight as we went up the stairs slowly, one careful step at a time.
“This is a fucking bad idea,” he murmured against my skin, nipping my collar bone as I hugged him closer to me.
“I don’t think so,” I countered, brushing my lips across his stubbly cheek. The sensation was new and beautiful.
I’d kissed boys before. Two to be exact, but they’d been just that. Boys. Owen was a man, and not only did his mind confirm that, so did his body.
When we reached the top of the stairs, he went down a hallway, then through a door that he kicked closed behind him. I was working blind for the most part, my attention focused on the man holding me and my eyes facing where we’d just come from rather than where we were going. We must have reached his bed because he lowered me, setting me onto something soft, our bodies staying connected as he hovered over me, kissing my lips again while his fingers drifted over my breast again.
“Help me,” I murmured against his lips before unwrapping my arms and legs from around him to pull up my t-shirt.
His hands followed mine, gliding up my skin as they caught my shirt and pushed it up. Our lips separated just long enough to get the thing over my head, then we were on each other again.
I felt like I was starving and thirsty and dying, and his lips were a feast. It felt so damn right that every nerve in my body began to tingle as his fingers slid over my skin.
The man slipped a hand behind my back and had my bra unclasped in moments. His deft fingers gripped the cups of my bra and he tore it off, exposing my breasts. I was gasping again as he dipped his head, mouth covering a nipple before he dragged his tongue over the bud.
A cry left my lips as he lavished my breasts with attention. My fingers begged for something to grip as the feeling of him on my body sank in. It was foreign, but it felt like something I’d been missing for so long. Something I never knew I needed.
“You’re incredible,” he breathed against the valley between my breasts, his scruff scraping in the most erotic way I could imagine.
“I-I need more,” I admitted to him.
I didn’t know what was happening within my own body, but I knew I needed him. All of him.
My core clenched on nothing, feeling so wildly empty in a way I’d never experienced.
Finally, for the first time since entering his room, Owen looked into my eyes. Fire and lust reflected back at me, but I could tell he was restraining himself, and I wanted it all.
He kept my eyes with his as those strong fingers brushed down to my waist where my shorts were. Smart fingers had the button open with little effort and the jeans slid down my hips so slowly.
Torturously.
“Owen,” I cried, feeling like I just might burst if he didn’t put something of his inside me.
I grabbed his cheeks and kissed him, sloppy and needy, but he gave the same back to me as his fingers hooked my panties next and dragged them down.
I kicked them off as best I could until I was completely naked underneath him.
Damn it, I needed to see him, too!
Fumbling with his shirt, I hauled it up like he had with mine, but with much less finesse.
I felt him grin against my lips as I yanked, then saw that smile on his face as he broke the kiss to help me get the shirt over his head. The thing finally lifted and left the expanse of his chest open to me. Those freckles I’d seen the first day were still there. The dusting of dark hairs down the center of his chest caught my eye again. I’d get to see where that happy trail led beneath his trousers, and that had my heart pounding all over again. Wait, when did he take off his glasses? God, he's gorgeous!
When I started reaching and pulling at the button of his jeans, he smirked, but shook his head as he sank lower, kissing my stomach, then my hips.
That man’s face was real close to my mound, and he wouldn’t let up eye contact as I got onto my elbows to watch what he was doing.
I wrote romance. I knew what he was doing. What I didn't know was what it was going to feel like.
“Oh God!” I cried, eyes flying shut as my head dropped back.
