Page 36 of Four Promises to Love

She arched her hips, seeking more of his touch. “That feels so fine. Give me more—please.”

She remembered to add the last word because Jimmy had told her men didn’t like women to issue orders. But was it her fault that most fellows needed a few pointers? Ironically, Owen, who required no instruction whatsoever, didn’t seem to mind her request. It made her glad that she’d never let Jimmy touch her this way. Owen screwed his finger in deeper, setting a rhythm that rekindled the embers. When he added another digit, she sighed with delight.

“Greedy,” he said with a wicked smirk.

“I know what I like,” she said a bit defensively.

“Good. Then you’ll tell me if you like this.”

He thrust his long fingers inside her, twisting and curling them, stroking some magical place high inside. The shock of bliss catapulted her hips from the bed.

“Blooming hell,” she gasped.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

She writhed and panted and even pleaded as he set about driving her mad. Just when she thought she could take no more, he bent his head and sucked her pearl while he fingered her. It was too much. Her back bowed as another climax blazed through her.

As she lay there, waiting for the stars to clear, Owen crawled over her and pressed his mouth softly to hers. She tasted herself in his kiss, but despite that naughtiness, his gesture was tender and brought a strange heat to her eyes. As she ran her hands dreamily over his broad shoulders, she realized that he was still dressed. While he’d given her satisfaction several times, she’d done nothing for him. Hastily, she began unbuttoning his shirt.

“You needn’t.” He caught her hand. “This isn’t tit for tat, Finn.”

His sincerity made her more determined to get his shirt off.

“I know. I just want to see you naked.”

It was no lie, and her flirty grin did the trick. His eyes gleaming, he reclined on his side like some indolent god of pleasure.

“Have at it,” he invited.

Oh, she intended to. She finished with the buttons and took her time exploring his sculpted chest. She loved the toughness of his form, the way his strength did not rely on bulk. His skin was firm and taut, covered with a light furring that felt pleasantly scratchy beneath her palms. Like her, he too bore the badges of survival, and she traced her fingertips over the old wounds—not to heal but to recognize.

“You are splendid,” she murmured.

“I’m not.” His gaze was so intense that her belly fluttered. “But I am glad you find me so.”

He shivered when she circled his flat nipples, bending to kiss the small nubs. She took her exploration lower, the hard bands of his belly rippling at her touch. When she gave him a small push, he went obligingly onto his back, and she scooted between his thighs.

“Are you contradicting me?” she inquired.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said blandly.

“Good. Because you are at my mercy.”

She heard his breath catch when she palmed the ridge in his trousers. The extent of his arousal made her a bit breathless, too. She worked on releasing his fasteners, which wasn’t the easiest task given how tightly the fabric was stretched. With his help, she managed to wrestle off the trousers—and her insides quivered at his raw virility. His legs were long and sculpted with muscle, and what hung between them was similarly proportioned. Huge and thick, his cock stretched toward his hair-dusted navel. An engorged vein was embossed upon the rosy-brown length, and she swore she saw it throb.

She did her best to wrap her fingers around his girth. When she pried the turgid length from his stomach, a groan tore from his throat. She released him—too quickly, for his meaty pole slapped against his abdomen with enough force to make him wince.

“Did I hurt you?” she asked.

“You might kill me if you don’t touch me soon.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want murder on my conscience.” Her lips curving, she took hold of him once more. “How is this?”

“Harder.” Apparently, he was good at giving orders too. “Tighten your grip—bloody hell, yes. Just so. Frig me just like that.”

His praise was all the encouragement she needed. She’d never been one to follow orders, but kneeling between his legs and frigging his stiff prick set fire to her blood. There was power in pleasing a man like him—in giving back what he’d given to her. Moisture streamed from his tip, making her wonder if he’d spent…

He grunted. “Keep going, Finn. You are going to make me come so hard.”