Page 48 of Pumped

I scramble to keep up, even as a little bubble of laughter rises in my chest. Even when it comes to sex, Owen is as no-nonsense as always. Cut the bullshit and get right to the point. We both know what we’re here to do, so why waste time.

He drops my hand when we get to my room and immediately starts unbuttoning his shirt. “Condoms. Lube.”

I have to drag my gaze away from the inches of skin he’s revealing as he pulls his shirt apart. Condoms. Lube. I have both. I have plenty of both. I find my stash and toss them onto the bed, then swing back to Owen.

He has his back to me as he shakes out his shirt and folds it. Wide shoulders and a tapered waist. The muscles on his back flex as he moves. I’ve never known Owen to work out, but he must find time for it because he’s a lot more ripped than he lets on.

He unbuckles his belt, then rolls it up into a coil before setting it next to his shirt. Then he unbuttons his slacks and pushes them down his legs. Plain black boxer briefs stretch over his bubble butt. His thighs are thick and his calves are shapely. When the guy finds time to do leg day, I have absolutely no freaking clue.

He turns toward me wearing only his underwear. There’s a smattering of dark hair across his chest and a tantalizing treasure trail down the center of his stomach. His dick is clearly outlined in the black cotton and a wet spot has formed at the tip.

He looks exactly the way I remember him from Vegas, right down to how he undresses—but better. The years have given him a little more bulk, making him a little more solid. He was a man before, but now he’s amanand my dick is here for it.

When I manage to lift my gaze to his face again, I find him giving me the same perusal. Except I’m still fully clothed in an old t-shirt and gray sweatpants.

“Take your shirt off,” Owen says in that tone of his that brokers no arguments.

My lips curl into a smirk at his bossiness. He just can’t help himself, can he?

I reach up and grab the back of my t-shirt, pulling it over my head and down my arms in some swift motion.

“And put that on.”

I follow his gaze to find one of my ball caps hanging on the wall. “This thing?” I point to it.

He nods. “Backward.”

Oookay. That’s weird, but maybe he’s got a hat fetish I don’t know about? I grab the cap and slide it on, adjusting it so the bill is angled just right down my neck.

Owen’s breath hitches and his gaze trails down my body, lingering on the dips and curves of my chest, my shoulders, my stomach. He takes two steps to close the distance between us, then traces the same path with his fingertips.

My nipples tighten as he grazes them with the lightest touch. I flex my abs when he flattens his hand over them. I forget to breathe when his hand travels lower and cups my cock and balls through my sweatpants.

“You’re annoyingly attractive,” he growls. “Why the hell are you so fucking hot?”

I can’t think when he’s massaging my junk in his hand and I can’t figure out if he’s trying to insult me or compliment me.

He drags his lips along my jaw and up to my ear. His stubble scrapes deliciously across my skin. He catches my earlobe between his teeth. My knees go weak and I grab ahold of him, clinging to him. My head drops back as Owen rakes his teeth down my neck. He latches onto my collarbone, then twirls his tongue in that dip at the base of my throat.

“Fuck, Owen.” I sound desperate. Because I am. Desperate for this man who is supposed to hate me and yet can’t keep his hands off me. Desperate to see him come apart, to see him give in to the pleasure I can give him.

Owen growls again and directs me toward the bed. When the backs of my legs hit the frame, he gives me a shove and I fall backward onto the mattress. He sets one knee on the bed beside me and reaches for the waistband of my sweats. He yanks themdown, along with my underwear, leaving them hanging around my ankles.

Then he stands back and takes in the view. I tuck one arm behind my head and bring my other hand to my chest. Owen watches, lips parted, eyes heavy-lidded. His breaths are fast and shallow and his hands are curled into fists like he’s trying to stop himself from reaching for me.

I pinch a nipple, letting myself gasp out loud at the pleasurable pain. I work the one nipple between my fingers, and then the other one, until I’m practically vibrating with need. Slowly, I drag my hand down my body and Owen tracks its progress with laser focus.

I grip myself at the base and slap my cock against my stomach a few times. The sound is loud and wet from the pre-cum I’ve been leaking. The impact makes me throb harder and more pre-cum spills from my cock.

Owen grabs my wrist and shoves my hand out of the way, then leans down and licks up the puddle of pre-cum. I gasp at the feel of his tongue, wet and dexterous, drawing circles across my skin. He laps up every drop before taking the head of my cock into his mouth.

“Holy fuck.” His mouth is a furnace and he’s sucking like he wants to drink the pre-cum from my balls. My hips come off the bed, but Owen pushes me down with far more strength than I thought he had.

He works the tip of my cock with his mouth. His tongue swirls around the sensitive head, wiggles against that spot on the underside, dips into the slit. It feels like every single nerve ending in my body is concentrated in just that bit he’s got between his lips and they’re all firing at the same time. It’s so good, it’s almost too much.

Owen gradually takes in more of my cock, sliding down my length an inch then pulling back. The slow descent is delightfuland torturous at the same time. His mouth is so hot and he’s got the perfect amount of suction, and when my dick hits the back of his throat, he swallows around the head.

“Jesus Christ!” I don’t blink. I don’t want to miss a second of this blowjob. Owen’s got his nose flush against my pelvis and my entire cock is engulfed in his delicious mouth. He has my balls in the palm of his hand and the way he’s squeezing them gently, I swear to fucking god he’s trying to milk me.

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