Page 58 of Pumped

“Stop.”

I freeze, holding myself stock still. Half of my body is covering Owen’s and I can feel him trembling beneath me. His breaths come in fast and shallow. His heart is hammering against my palm.

“Do you really want me to stop?” I pull back far enough to see his face.

There’s a longing shining in his eyes that takes my breath away. A longing not just for sex, but for something more, somethingreal. I want that too.

Feelings from this afternoon flood back into me. The worry and fear when I couldn’t get a hold of him, the worst-case scenarios I tried not to dwell on. If I’d lost him… I don’t know what I would do if I lost Owen.

Suddenly, with a growl, Owen flips us over and smashes his lips against mine. The kiss is aggressive. Our tongues battle for dominance, chasing each other back and forth between his mouth and mine.

God, I love kissing Owen. How it’s like a fight each and every time. But it’s more this time, it’s primal, raw, and stripped bare, fueled by our deepest fears, unspoken but ringing loud in the darkness.

We need this, the closeness, the intimacy. We need the reassurance that we’re both still here. That nothing bad happened. That we’ve averted disaster.

Owen rolls his body against mine, chest to chest, stomach to stomach, erection to erection. It’s so good. It’s so perfect. My nipples ache and my cock pulses and fucking hell, Ineedhim.

I shove my hands down the back of his pajama pants, sliding my fingers into the crease of his ass and pulling the two cheeks apart. He grunts and arches his back like he trying to impale himself on my fingers.

I tap a single finger against Owen’s hole and he whines directly into my mouth. I drink down the sound, such beautiful music to my ears. I tap my finger a few more times, a little harder, and Owen wrenches his mouth away from mine. He glares at me while reaching back to push my hand more firmly against his ass. “Fuck you.”

I smile as the curse winds through me like an endearment.

“You’re hungry for my hole, aren’t you? You’re such a slut for it. Can’t go a single day without getting your dick wet, can you?”

The filthy words go straight to my cock, making me throb.

“Fuck, O.”

“Tell me how much you want me.” He growls the demand directly into my ear. “How much do you want my hole?”

I squirm and my finger presses more firmly against the wrinkled entrance to his body. “A lot. I want it. I want you.”

“What are you willing to do to get it?”

I whine, pressing my face into the crook of Owen’s neck. I breathe in the rich, leathery scent on his skin, wanting to cover myself in it, to drown in it. I want to lose myself in Owen and all his gruff abrasiveness. I want to crawl inside him where I know there’s a sweet, soft center. “Anything. Everything.”

A shudder runs through Owen and his hips buck to grind his cock against mine. “Give me your hand.”

He doesn’t wait for me to draw my hand out of his pants but grabs my wrist and yanks it out for me. He opens his mouth, looking like he’s going to bite my fingers off. But when his lipsclose around them, there are no teeth. Just hot wet suction and a slippery sliding tongue.

“Oh fuck.”

Owen’s gaze drills into me as he sucks on my fingers. My breath catches when his tongue slides in between the digits to coat them in his spit. It feels like his mouth is on my cock, like his tongue is twirling around the head. And when he releases my fingers, I moan in protest as if he’s pulling his mouth off my dick.

He pushes my hand back down toward his ass. “Fuck me, Ev. Fuck me like you mean it.”

Jesus Christ. Owen being a control freak in real life is annoying as hell. But Owen being controlling in bed is the sexiest thing I’ve ever experienced.

I shove my hand down his shorts and made a beeline for his hole. I push one finger inside, moaning when the muscle immediately gives way. Owen moans and drops his head onto my shoulder.

“That’s it. All the way in. The second one too. That’s a good boy.”

I gasp at the praise and I cram my fingers into his ass as far as they will go. He clamps down around me when I pull out, like he’s trying to keep me inside, like he’s trying to milk cum from my fingertips.

My cock is in agony, trapped in my boxers. I tighten my arms around Owen, holding him close as I tilt my hips up, seeking any bit of friction I can find. “Please, O. Please.”

Owen slides a hand between us and pushes our shirts up so the bare skin of our chests and stomachs slides against one another. The heat of his skin is searing. My nipples burn at the contact.

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