It’s probably not healthy how much I’m loving the way he’s caging me in, dominating me with every touch and kiss. There will never be anything sexier than his primal need for me in this moment.
“Fuck, Meadow,” he groans between kisses, his voice low and completely undone. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.”
Oh my God.
“You taste so fucking good,” he breathes against my mouth. “I can’t get enough. This will never be enough.”
How long has he wanted to do this?
Wait.
Has he been feeling the same way all this time?
There’s absolutely no fucking way.
He’s just tipsy and caught up in the moment. It’s just the alcohol talking.
My hands fly to his chest as he steps closer, crowding into me until his hips are molded to mine. I fist his shirt, white-knuckling the fabric in my grip as I feel his hard cock twitch against my lower belly. My pussy quivers as my sensitive nipples brush against his chest through my silky dress.
Every nerve in my body is erupting for him, shooting off fireworks as we writhe against each other.
The fact that Owen wants me like this—that he’sthisturned on by me—makes my head spin. This moment will be burned into my memory until my last breath.
My eyes roll back when his mouth leaves mine and drops to my neck.
Fuck.
“Owen—” I exhale, leaning the back of my head against the wall.
His lips suck feverishly at my skin, then trail slow, hungry kisses up the column of my throat like he’s drawing a map back to my lips.
“Owen,” I gasp when he tugs my earlobe gently between his teeth.
“Fuck, keep saying my name like that,” he hums before diving back in with his lips.
He can’t get enough. He’s desperate to get his mouth on every inch of me.
And God help me, I fucking love it.
Before I can blink, he’s back on my mouth, kissing me like I’m his own personal oxygen.
Does he always kiss like this? Or is it just like this with me? Because I can say with full certainty that I have never,ever, been kissed like this.
When he finally pulls back, we’re both breathless.
He cups my face in his hands like I’m precious and fragile, his thumbs brushing my cheeks as his eyes search mine.
He looks wrecked in the best way possible.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Meadow,” he rasps. “God… I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. You have no idea how goddamn perfect you are.”
My chest physically aches with his confession because he’s right. I’ve always struggled with self-confidence, but right now, he’s making me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.
“Owen…” I whisper, reaching up to touch his stubbled jaw.
He cuts me off with another searing kiss. Harder this time. Needier.
We rock against each other, pinned between the wall and the blur of bodies around us, hidden in the mayhem of the club. Our heads tilt, teeth bump, tongues tangle as music and lust flood our veins.
