Page 50 of Owen

“Good fucking girl. Again. Hold your hips there.”

My eyes widen as I struggle to breathe, and he continues to fuck me. He moves his hand away from my nose, then devilishly smiles. “Now—” His voice takes on a low, delicious tone that makes my pussy clench as his mouth finds my ear. “When I get to one, you come. Yeah?”

I nod my head again, excitement surging through my veins.

“Good girl.”

The sensation of my orgasm already on the cusp, he counts, “Ten.” In a rougher than normal Scottish accent, “Nine.” He rails me into the bed. “Eight.” He moves faster as he keeps counting down, and I’m trying so hard to hold off that I don’t hear the next few numbers and then suddenly he counts, “Three.” I fight hard to hold back my orgasm, thrashing my head from side to side as tears run down my temples. “Two.” He fucks at an unrelenting rhythmical pace as he counts, makingme grateful for the solid wooden bed not squeaking. “One,” he rasps in my ear, biting my earlobe, and I go off like a rocket, my body locks, fingers and toes curling into the bed as I squirm beneath him, my pussy clenching around his thick cock.

I swear I black out for a second as golden stars explode behind my eyes.

I can barely breathe as he muffles my moans with his hand and whispers words I can’t make out against the shell of my ear as pleasure continues to pulse through my body.

“You take instruction well, Hotshot. That was fucking hot.” His cock pulsing inside me with need, his body covered in a thin coat of perspiration, he kisses my temple, removing his hand from my mouth. He kisses my cheek, the side of my mouth, then my lips softly, the scruff of his beard tickling my upper lip. “You’re so fucking beautiful. You arenotold. You’re young and sexy and vibrant, and everything I could only ever dream about.” He begins moving again, his hips rocking with the perfect amount of pressure, my oversensitive body already reacting to his touch. “Your success doesn’t scare me. It makes me want you all the more and I will show you every day if I have to exactly how much you turn me on.” He groans between his firm words. “Because you have the sweetest pussy I have ever tasted. I’m fucking addicted.” His hips pick up the pace again, and I feel the telltale signs of another orgasm building between my thighs. “I’ve never felt this way before and I never want it to end, Hotshot. So, you will take my cock like the good girl you are. Never doubt yourself, and if I ever hear you describe yourself as old again, I will spank you.”

“I might like that,” I whisper as butterflies dance in my stomach.

“I bet you fucking would.” He chuckles, then tries to stiflehis groan. “Aw, fuck, I’m gonna come, Hotshot.” I’m guessing he likes the idea of him spanking me as much as I do.

My heart jackhammers in my chest as I watch him come undone and I follow him over the edge as another orgasm rips through my body.

“You’re mine,” he pants as his cock jerks inside of me, filling me with his hot seed, while my release coats his length.

Moaning as he comes down from his climax, he kisses me with such tenderness my heart might explode with emotion.

Still inside of me, he leans up on his forearms, brushing the pad of his thumb across my temple, and I find it oddly spellbinding. “What time do you need to be at work?”

“Briefing is at half six, sharp.” Owen is only the second person to make me not want to go to work. The first being Poppy.

“You better get in the shower then, you dirty cougar.”

Unladylike, I snort. “Are you teasing me, boy toy?”

“Boy toy.” He shakes his head, repeating the words under his breath. “I’ll be your boy toy any day of the week.”

“And night?” I ask, my voice laced with hope.

“Day, night. Summer, spring, winter, fall.”

“For years to come.”

We stare at each other, both realizing the enormity of what we are saying: we want every day with one another. My brain tries to figure out where the hell this guy came from. Whoever he is, I fucking love him. Sorry, I mean, Ilikehim. I’m not in love with him, because that’s such a stupid thing for me to say after a handful of days. What I mean is that I am enjoying it… I mean, him. Oh, Jesus Christ, I’m having a meltdown.

Owen snaps me out of my stupor. “For this morning, though, I need to figure out a way to sneak out of here beforeyour mom and Poppy wake up and before Gregor realizes I’m gone.”

“I’m not bothered about them finding out,” I tell him honestly.

“You’re not?”

“No. And I will tell my team when I’m ready. But our family should know first.”

“So we’re not just aone-time thingwhile you’re training, but we’re dating?” His brows hunker down as if he’s worrying about how we make this work.

“Yeah, I want to see where this goes, Owen. I’m here in Cyprus for four weeks. You don’t have any plans to return to Scotland before then, but you will have to return eventually, won’t you?”

“I’m not fussed about living in Scotland anymore, and if it means being able to see you every day, I’ll move anywhere.”

I question myself. Am I acting more like an eighteen-year-old than a thirty-nine-year-old? Do I have a crush on the popular guy dreaming about him sweeping me off my feet and living happily ever after? Because part of me thought that’s what would happen with Michael, and he proved himself to be a douche canoe that I’d like to push down the river without a paddle.

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