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He gave me directions to his house, which was in Raleigh, not too far from where I lived, never letting go of my hand. Instead, he tortured me the entire way there, gently nipping his way up my arm, his teeth on my skin, then back down to the tip of every finger.
My mouth was dry, but the core of me was completely and utterly wet. Every bite sent a pulse between my legs and I squeezed them together in an attempt to find some relief.
The movement did not go unnoticed and he laughed in amusement, his breath burning my skin even more.
“Are we almost there?” I asked gruffly, and maybe a little desperate.
“We’re here.”
His neighborhood was heavily wooded, the houses on at least an acre lot. His house was far in, the driveway long. It was a simple brick ranch, with a white porch that extended one half of the house, and a door so blue I could see it clearly even in the dark.
It was quiet when we walked up to the house, no noise from nearby streets or even neighbors. The only sounds were those of the scuttling creatures nearby and nocturne birds overhead hunting said little creatures.
My eyes wandered as Owen fumbled with the lock, looking at the light cast by the full moon as it filtered through the tall pines and cast eerie shadows on the ground. The night sky glittered with a trillion stars, the brightest I’d ever seen, so that for the first time in my life I saw the milky way with my own eyes.
When I heard the door open, I turned to Owen, and followed him in. The second the door closed he was on me. My back was pressed against the wall, his hands pinning me there, his mouth hard on mine. It was so sudden yet so demanding, that my body responded of its own accord, way before my mind could register what was happening.
Never in my life had I been kissed with so much passion, and it swept me away into a frenzy of hands in hair, pulling of clothes and shameless cries. Nails dug into skin and teeth nipped in an attempt to maintain some control of our senses.
Owen’s hands dropped from the wall, down my neck and over my breasts.
“You’re not wearing a bra,” he stated as his fingers grazed over my nipples, the feeling intensified by the smooth material of my tee.
I moaned into his mouth, too far gone to understand what he was saying. My hands tore at his shirt, needing more of his heat, but when he pinched my nipples gently, my knees gave and I nearly fell.
With well-built arms, Owen easily lifted me and carried me to a room down a short hall. We fell onto something soft, and I realized it was his bed, the sheets messy already. He was over me, his mouth only leaving mine momentarily as we removed our clothes, tossing them to land somewhere unseen. At some point, he’d grabbed a condom, I didn’t even see, and rolled it on.
When we were both lying naked, his weight between my legs, he looked into my eyes and I knew he was asking for permission. I gave him my answer when I pulled him in by his buttocks, squeezing the firm muscles as he entered me. His strokes were smooth and controlled at first, his kiss deep and exploring.
My hands roamed the smooth skin of his broad back, his arms and then back down to that butt I knew I could bounce a quarter off of, feeling the muscles flex as he moved over me. When his movements intensified, quickening as our orgasms neared, I released his lips so that I could breathe deeper, moan louder.
My climax came hard and I pushed against him, grinding myself even as he pumped, until the waves ebbed and I could see again. With a quick movement, he flipped me onto my stomach, and entered me from behind. He moved my hair to one side, and as he pushed into me again and again, he bit my neck and caressed my breasts until once again I felt that maddening urge to finish.
“Owen don’t stop!” I begged, and though he did pause once, he didn’t stop until I came again, only then himself letting go.
He fell onto my back then rolled off, his breathing ragged, sweat on his brow. When we looked at each other, we both started laughing, followed by the awkward explanation that inevitably follows a one night stand.
“I never do this,” I told him. It was sort of true, I’d never gone to a man’s house on the first night.
“Yeah, me neither.” He stood and went into an adjoining bathroom where I could see him taking off his condom and washing his hands. “Do you want to shower?”
I lazily snuggled into the blue jersey sheets that smelled of fabric softener and a little bit of him. “Only if you’re going to shower with me.”
He walked to the bed and bent over to press a wet kiss to my hip, trailing his tongue all the way up, over my nipple where he paused to suck it, then up to my neck and to my ear. “If I can be inside you again, I will do anything you want.”
The pressure in my core had already built with what he’d done, but with his very male voice, so low and wanting in my ear, I found myself unable to cool down. Taking him by the neck, I pulled him down to the bed again and flipped him onto his back kissing him with everything I had.
“I hope you mean that, because tonight I plan on having you inside me all night,” I told him before kissing him again.
And he was.
I left his house with a silly grin on my face and a limp. Even now I can still remember seeing him through the rearview mirror as I drove away that night, waving bye to me when I turned down the street.
Though it wasn’t intended to be more than it was, it felt too intense to leave it behind. But I was leaving for Miami. There was also the matter of another man. I’d already accepted a date and it wouldn’t be fair to Evan if I didn’t give him a shot simply because I’d felt such a connection with someone else.
The following day I called my mother, dying to tell my best friend everything. Well, maybe not the sex parts. But the emotions, my feelings.
“I think I met the man I’m going to marry,” I confessed.
