Page 83 of The Reality of Us
Warmth spread through her body so quickly she could jump back into the freezing creek and not notice the water temperature. She scooted closer, her foot catching in her sleeping bag, but Owen freed her, settling her in his lap, their bodies aligning in her favourite way.
“Thank you,” she whispered against his lips, enjoying the scratch of his stubble against her sensitive skin. Her fingers skimmed along his cheeks, tracing the hard angles of his jawline before moving to his neck. He smelt like smoke and the outdoors, a whisper of salt lingering on his skin despite their impromptu swim.
Without breaking contact, he lifted them both, rising onto his knees. They both laughed when their heads hit the roof of the tent. Alice’s giggles died on her lips when he ground his hips into hers, his fingers digging into her butt. He sat back on his heels, his mouth capturing hers as he lowered her to the mattress. The kiss started out soft and slow, leisurely strokes of his tongue matching the slow, so slow, way he moved against her. Despite all the layers of clothes between them, he managed to work her into such a frenzy she could barely think straight. He increased the speed, his hands guiding her over his dick.
Damn. Dry humping had never felt like this in high school. Just when she thought it couldn’t get any better, he slipped a hand under her jumper. His fingers left a trail of fire behind them. Owen pinched her nipple, and Alice moaned loudly as a spike of pleasure zapped around her body, pooling between her legs.
“Owen—” Her nerve endings were about to self-combust. The breathiness in her voice must’ve spurred him on, his hips moving relentlessly against hers, his hardness hitting just the right spot.
“I think … I’m gonna …” Her muscles coiled, tightening almost painfully as Owen’s hot breath washed over her face. He palmed her breast, pulling at the nipple with the exact right amount of pressure. He always knew exactly how far he could push her, never stepping over the line that would make her uncomfortable.
“Come on, honey,” he murmured, burying his face in the crook of her neck. His voice was pure sex and all hers. It was the ‘honey’ that sent her spiralling.
Pleasure flooded her body, her back arching and hips jerking against his. Owen looked up, dropping the sweetest, softest kiss on her lips as he brushed her fringe away from her eyes. Alice’s breath heaved in and out.
“That’s one.”
“Wha—”
He pulled down her pants with one hand and pushed a finger inside, twisting it so it hit the spot inside she couldn’t reach on her own without her plastic friend. Her toes curled automatically, the sounds of the outside world disappearing, replaced with her thundering heart.
How could it be this good every single time?
“Five, yeah? That’s what I owe you?”
Mischief dripped from his words, a throwback to her teasing at the river. She rode his hand, tried to tell him he didn’t owe her anything, but all she could do was gasp his name.
In no time, the familiar tightness spread throughout her body. She yanked at his pants, but he twisted out of reach.
“Not yet.” His kiss swallowed her growl of protest, and he added another finger. “This is all about you.”
She bit her lip, trying to keep herself from crying out.
His eyes zeroed in on where her bottom lip was caught between her teeth, freeing it with his thumb. “It’s only us. Don’t hold back.”
So, she didn’t, moaning loudly as she toppled over the edge, his fingers stroking her slowly, reverently, as she rode out her orgasm.
Owen rolled onto his back, tucking her under his shoulder and tilting her face towards his. “Two,” he whispered.
Alice’s arms wobbled when she pushed up on them. “Three’s going to be a team sport,” she said with all the sternness of a tiny kitten.
“Is that so?” The dimples in his cheeks popped, and if she was wearing pants, they would’ve melted off.
“Team sports with you are my favourite,” she said.
“That’s convenient because everything with you is my favourite.”
Jesus. If he kept saying sweet shit like that, she was going to have to tell him how she really felt about him.
She settled for something safer, a husky voice she barely recognised as her own. “Take your pants off.”
Owen’s smile widened; his face bathed in the golden glow from the lantern in the corner of the tent. “Your wish is my command.” He lifted his hips, shimmying underneath her as he kicked his pants off, and she ground against him. He tipped his head back, jaw clenching as where he was hardest, thickest, nestled against where she was softest, wettest.
“More please,” he groaned. His voice was so deep, one octave above a growl.
“Like this?” she whispered, sliding along his dick, stopping shy of where she knew he wanted to go. He groaned and reached for a condom.
“Do we need that?”
