Page 21 of It Was Always You

I press a soft kiss on his lips before pulling back. “I hope I was worth the wait.”

“For you, I would have waited a thousand years,” he vows, pulling me close again.

I’ve never felt more at home than I do then. I’ve also never felt as safe or loved.

Dangerous or not, something tells me Owen Jameson is as committed as I am. And for the first time, I’m not afraid to lean into that feeling, letting it fill the spaces inside me that have always felt empty.

Chapter 17

Waking up in Owen’s arms that next morning feels both familiar and different. I’ve gotten used to quietly enjoying the comforting feeling for a few moments before he wakes up and then I studiously pretend not to notice his morning wood while also enjoying the view as he stretches.

But last night changed things between us.

Smiling, I snuggle back against him, only to jerk in surprise when he shifts forward, pressing his hard cock against me. I nearly choke on my spit when he rumbles, “Good morning, sunshine.”

How long has he been awake? And is this really just ‘morning wood,’ or something more? The heat of the moment sends my pulse racing, and impulsively, I grind back against him slightly just to test his reaction. Fuck, he’s big. So big it might hurt, but I’m up for the challenge.

His hand tightens on my stomach, and he warns in a husky voice, “If you don’t stop moving that sweet ass, we’re about to have an even bigger problem than the target on your back.”

“Maybe that’s what I want,” I murmur, continuing my slow tease, curious to see if he’ll take the next step. Personally, I’m hoping that he will.

Muttering, “Fuck it,” he grips me tighter, holding me so close there’s not an inch of space between us anymore.

“You want to be naughty, baby girl?” he growls into my ear, his hand teasing along the waistband of my shorts. My body responds instinctively, hips lifting in silent plea for more.

“Only for you,” I rasp.

“Oh baby, look at you making a mess of your shorts.” His hand slips beneath my shorts, and his groan vibrates through me when he finds how aroused I am. His thumb circles my clit in a rhythm that soon has my back arching off the bed.

“This is my pussy now, Cora. Every orgasm is mine. You need to come, you come to me. And one day soon, I’m going to fuck you so full of my cum you’ll know my cock is only yours. But for now, I want you to grind that sweet ass back against me and come all over my hand so I can taste what’s mine.”

I’m a goner.

The feel of his teeth on my neck, his fingers moving inside me—it’s overwhelming. He claims me, his growled words searing my soul.

A certified, back arching, seeing stars while screaming and chanting his name type of goner.

It feels like I’ll never come down. As long as Owen’s with me, I don’t care.

“That’s a good girl,” he says, stroking my pussy and kissing my neck before withdrawing his hand completely. I twist just in time to see him licking his fingers with a wicked gleam.

“I think you might just be my new favourite breakfast, lunch, dinner and dessert.”

Laughing, I thump on the chest before burrowing back into the safety of his arms with a smile and pressing a kiss to his pierced nipple.

* * *

That morning changed things slightly. While Owen doesn’t retreat from what happened, he does put the brakes on when things start heating up too much. Our days blend into a series of intense workouts and make-out sessions that leave us breathless and wanting more, yet somehow, he always stops just short of going further.

“Again,” he orders, bringing me back to the present. We’ve been running through some stamina drills today.

“You’re a cruel, cruel man,” I pant as I psych myself up to go through the assault course again.

“You’ll thank me for it later,” he replies, leaning casually against the wall as he watches me. The sight of him all sweaty and shirtless is the biggest tease ever. I mean, come on, his abs are practically begging me to lick them. It’s torture knowing I haven’t been allowed to touch him as he has me.

With a shake of my head, I refocus because the sooner I complete this, the sooner we can call it a day and then maybe I can see about persuading him to let me make him feel good for a change.

Ten minutes later, sweaty and out of breath, I collapse on the gym mat, pleading, “Please tell me we can stop for today. I might just pass out if you make me do that again.”

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