Page 5 of Wounded Hero

Owen goes through the sensitive parts of the body to aim for. And I try to concentrate on what he is saying. I am certainly concentrating on his body. He wears a t-shirt stretched over his bulging muscles. Under that thin cotton is a washboard stomach I long to spread my fingers over. And I like the serious tone in his voice. It does something to me, makes me want to play up and be naughty.

"Cora!" His slightly raised voice breaks through my dirty thoughts. "You're not concentrating." His voice is a sexy growl.

"Sorry." I can't help the grin on my face.

"Now it is time to learn how to hit and defend yourself. This is important, you can get hurt if you don't do this right."

As he stands close in front of me, his hands on my arms. His fingers run down to my forearms and it sends sparks through my whole body. He has so much strength and yet his touch is so gentle. I can feel the heat off his body. I pick up notes of the soap he uses, hints of lemon mix with a purely masculine smell. He smells of wood and fire and it is exciting. I'm tempted to step forward into his arms. To let our bodies touch. To feel the rock hardness of his chest and stomach.

He shows me how to hold my arms up against an attack. How to hit with my hand in the correct position so I don’t break my own bones. And then he moves behind me, instructing me on how to break free if someone grabs me from behind.

He stands so close to me. His arms around me. His big hands take hold of mine. His skin rough to the touch.

"Concentrate, Cora." His voice is a husky whisper in my ear. And for a moment I feel his nose in my hair. Is he smelling me? Inhaling my scent as I had enjoyed his? The thought thrills me but I haven't the first clue what to do with this information. I may be adventurous when it comes to traveling around on my own, trying different jobs, but I have never been this physically close to a man. This intimate. He engulfs me in the hold. It’s meant to be an attack. My back against his chest. My ass against him. His arms around me. The scent of him. The feel of his body. It is an attack on my scenes and I don’t want him to let go.

"So, to get out of this..."

"Wait." My voice is low, just a whisper. "What if I don't want to get out of this?"

There is silence between us. I feel his grip on my wrists tighten. My legs start to shake and go weak and I don’t know why. So much heat coming off his body. Or is that mine? I feel like I'm on fire. I push my ass back against him. His erection hard against my ass cheek.

"Cora." My name sounds like it has been ripped from deep within him and it thrills me. His big, meaty thigh pushes between my legs and he drags me up, pulling me into him. The pressure on the ache between my legs feels amazing. He kisses my neck. His hot lips burning, sending fire through my body. And when he grazes his teeth over my sensitive skin I moan and lean back into him. His hands travel under my shirt and take a breast in each hand. Squeezing. Kneading. Exploring. All the while his thigh moves against me as I grind down onto it. I am hot and wet. My body is not mine to control.

I gasp when I feel his fingers stroke the denim of my jeans over my pussy. I worry he will feel how wet I am but in the next moment I don’t care. Never in my life have I felt such a need. Such wanting. Just from his touch.

And his sexy whisper in my ear.

“I was meant to keep my hands off you but you are too fucking beautiful. Do you know what I want to do to you?”

And then in a low growl. “Do you feel what you do to me?”

He takes my hand and puts it between our bodies so I can feel his huge, hard shaft under his pants. Feeling his fullness in my hand makes me want to turn and face him. To be kissed by him But he holds me tight and continues to torture me with the pressure between my legs. I moan and wither in his hands.

“Owen.” His name just a husky whisper. But it breaks the spell. He stills his movements and then swiftly pushes me away. I turn, panting, trying to control my breath, to see him stomp away to the other side of the cabin.

I see him curl his hands into fists by his side. His back to me, held tense. As though he is fighting against something. I’m left feeling lost. Like I was on the verge of something wonderful and it got ripped away. But I know better than to ask him what happened. I might be miffed that he stopped, but I sense it is nothing compared to the rage vibrating off Owen right now.

After minutes of silence I hear him growl. "Go to sleep. You take the bed. I'll sleep in the chair."

Chapter 6

Cora

Owen is silent the rest of the evening while I tossed and turned in the bed. It smells of him. The sheets are too soft against my hot skin. I have too much energy, I'd rather get up and pace, go for a walk, climb the walls. God, something to expel this pent up energy. But something tells me not to disobey Owen's order. Or to try and talk to him.

He sits in the chair, refuses to look my way and I can feel energy vibrating off him from all the way across the cabin. My mysterious Mountain Man. A reclusive billionaire with a dark past. But he had been gentle in his handling of me. In fact, I would have liked him to be rougher. I would have liked him to throw me up against the wall and have his wicked way with me. It is with thoughts of his hands on my body that I eventually drift off to sleep.

Woken by a rough shake and a deep voice urgently calling my name. And then swooped up, covers and all and being carried as I shake the sleepiness from my brain. It's cold and as I'm put on my feet, I realize the window is gone. Instead of glass there is a tree protruding into the room and around it the howling wind is rushing into the cabin.

It's dark but I don't miss how close that tree must have come to landing on Owen if he was in the armchair. My heart constricts and panic starts to make my blood rush. I look at Owen who has put his back against the massive bookcase to move it. It strikes me as a strange thing to do in the middle of a storm and also I'm reminded how mad he was that I moved his furniture around and now he decided to move this bookcase when there is a window to be fixed.

But then, with the book case moved, he grabs my arm and drags me through a door, into a dark, cold space and then I hear the creak and groan of old metal doors. I am wide eyed even though it is pitch black. Owen lights a lamp and I look around with wonder. I am guessing we are in a cave, judging by the curved ceiling, but it is a large space stacked with blankets and crates of supplies.

I stare at Owen. "YouareBatman!"

He ignores me as he shakes out some blankets for us.

"You have your own Bat Cave! And where does that door lead?" I point to the door at the other end of the space. "It goes to a huge manor, doesn't it? Just like Bruce Wayne."

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