Page 107 of All Our Nevers

The confidence rushes back through me like a flood, and I can’t help but cock a teasing eyebrow at him. “You know this isn’t doing anything, right? I could undo this in a second.”

“I know,” he replies, low voice skittering along my spine. He encircles my two wrists with his one hand, then slowly guides them up over my head until they’re pressed into the pillow. When he lets go, hovering above me to mark my reaction, I don’t move an inch. As if in reward, he lowers his lips to mine, kissing me deeply. And when he finally pulls back, his words are a rasp across my skin. “But you’re not going to undo it, are you?”

I look deep into his glacier blue eyes, vast and sincere, mere inches from my own, and I understand what he means.

“No,” I whisper. “I’m not.”

Of course I can undo the knot. I’m not actually restricted in any way, because he knows me well enough to know that would be too much.

But this? This is safe.

A safe way to explore a side of myself I’ve never explored before. To offer control to someone else without losing any myself.

“Good,” he replies, his strong body settling between my thighs. “Because the moment that knot comes undone, I’m going to stop touching you. Okay?”

“Yes,” I breathe.

He begins trailing lazy kisses down my neck. “I’m going to tell you exactly how I want you—” He kisses along my collarbone, down to my sternum. “—and you’re going to tell me if you want it too.”

“Yes.” This time it comes out more desperate, more insistent. I want to tear off his shirt, scrape my nails down his arms and pull him tighter against myself. But the anticipation, the tease, the want is nearly as good as the having, and every word he says has wetness pooling between my thighs.

“First,” he says, “I want to take off this dress and taste your pretty tits.” He trails his hand down my side, my hip, my thigh, coming to rest at the hem of my dress. When he pauses, I realize he’s waiting for permission.

“Yes. Do it.”

He pushes up the dress up slowly, savoring every inch, until I’m bare beneath him, the silk trapped under my arms revealing my braless chest. He moans as he sucks me into his mouth, and the vibration goes straight to my core. I arch my back, desperate for more, needing him everywhere. His thumb replaces his mouth and he’s moving to my other breast, lavishing it with equal attention until I’m squirming under him.

“Careful,” he says, peeking up at me with another teasing lick. “Don’t move too much. You wouldn’t want me to have to stop, would you?”

“God, you’re annoying,” I sigh, closing my eyes and arching up towards him again. But that was a mistake.

Now, instead of giving me more, he gives less—peppering the lightest kisses around the outer edge of my breast, down to my stomach, never where I want him.

“Owen,” I whine, more needy by the second. “Please.”

Heat flares behind his eyes as he finally brings his mouth back to my breast, licking and sucking in the perfect way as his fingers tease my other nipple. I can hear myself moaning—loudly—but I don’t care. A good job deserves praise, and he’s doing a very, very good job.

When he pulls his mouth away, I’m prepared to beg for it back. But before I can, Owen starts shifting down the mattress.

“Now I want to taste that perfect pussy.”

His motions are languid, kissing messily along my stomach until he reaches the waistband of my thong, pausing to look up at me.

I’m really trying to be good, but my patience has its limits. “Just do it. God, Owen, do it now.”

The right side of his mouth stretches into a sinful grin. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

Even in the heat of the moment he takes his time, hooking his fingers under the waistband and pulling down until he’s stripped me entirely.

He pauses, standing at the foot of the bed to enjoy the view, and for the briefest moment I actually catch myself worrying about how I look—completely bare except for the dress messily pushed up under my arms, vulnerable at an odd angle below him.

But he bites his lip with undeniable hunger, eyes glazed and electric as he says, “You are unreal.”

And the world is turned on its head.

Because as Owen gets on his knees before me, crawling back to me on the mattress, I’ve never felt more powerful.

I don’t have to do anything, say anything. My presence alone has him desperate and greedy, ready to offer tenderness and pleasure, yet one word from me would send him away. It’s a heady rush of power, part submission and part control. I’ve never experienced anything like it.