Page 36 of Owen (Storm Enterprises)

He licks his lips, then darts his eyes back toward the road. The veins in his arms contract, and I wonder if he’s irritated by my question or if he’s feeling vulnerable. His Adam’s apple works, then he glances toward me. “You know I’ve done spanking, Laya. Don’t act dumb.” He’s referring to the times I’ve witnessed him with other women, the times jealousy flooded my veins like a disease. He clears his throat. “I just don’t want to hurt you, like last time.” The vulnerability in his tone has my heart clenching.

I nod, remembering the way he pulled away from me when he choked me. But it felt right, really fucking right. So right, my morals went out the window in a split second, because what I want is so much more than him saying it. I want to feel it deep inside, every spank and his hands around my throat, his cock buried to the hilt; I want it all.

“It felt right,” I mutter, and his shoulders relax. When his eyes meet mine, they’re full of lust, making my cheeks burn brighter, then his gaze wanders leisurely over my body to my exposed legs.

I’m only wearing his T-shirt, and he knows I’m without panties.

“So fucking right,” he repeats with a feral gleam in his bright-blue eyes, as if liking my response.

He glances in the rearview mirror at Romero, looks back to me, then kisses my fingers again. “Gonna make everything all right, baby girl.” His words are full of promise, but even more, they’re full of intrigue, and as much as I want to delve deeper and ask those questions, I don’t think I’m ready. I’m not sure I ever will be. So instead of pushing further, I sink back into my seat and close my eyes.

The last words he whispers make me wonder if I’m dreaming already.

“Gonna make you my wife.”

NINETEEN

OWEN

Iplace the car into park and put the handbrake on, then take a deep breath and glance over my shoulder at Romero. The little dude is cute as hell, all tucked up in his blanket. My jaw twitches at it being something the bastard provided for them, but I’ll soon erase every memory of him from their minds and bodies. His very existence will be nothing more than dust, like his ashes.

My body tightens with a fierce need to protect them, to ensure they’re mine at whatever the cost.

I take in every inch of my girl, and my heart throbs. The empty ache she left behind is now full, so full it causes me a different kind of pain, one of completeness. She blinks, and when those green eyes meet mine, her pouty lips tip up into a smile that sends a flurry of warmth through my body, something only she has ever achieved, and I mirror her smile, granting her the same happiness she gifts me.

“Hey,” she breathes out, and I want to smash my lips against hers, but I refrain myself and tilt my head toward the house.

“We’re home.”

She darts her gaze toward the house, and her throat works. “Home?” Her voice croaks with emotion.

“Home,” I confirm, broadening my shoulders with confidence as she takes in the house before her.

I had it built based off her drawings and images she had attached to her pinboard at home and on her Pinterest account that was way too easy to hack.

The way the vines are entwined up the turret which holds a drawing room and reading nook for her, the white picket fence surrounded with red posies, all created from her vision and from my memory of that night together when I took in her photos.

“How…” Her question hangs in the air as she stares out the window.

“Every moment we ever shared not only created a canvas in your mind, but mine too.” I kiss her fingers, loving the way her body responds with a tremor, the same way she’s always reacted to me, the way that tells me she’s mine. “I told you I want this, want you, Romero. This is our future.” I tilt my head toward the house.

She swallows slowly, and I wait on a knife-edge for her response.

“Owen. This is all too soon.” Tears fill her eyes while I try to knock the anger building inside me away.

My jaw sharpens, and I grind my teeth. “It’s not soon enough, baby girl.”

Her eyes close on my admission, and when they reopen, I see the difference, her agreement. She blinks away the tears, but one escapes and travels down her perfect cheek. I lean in and hold her head in place. My breath fans her face, and she shudders,then I drag my tongue up her cheek to her forehead and place a firm kiss there. “Let me lick away your pain, baby girl.”

A gasp escapes her, and I revel in it. My cock stands to attention, begging for a piece of her. With only the memories of that night together, I punished myself further for letting her go. Never allowing myself the pleasure of another woman. I didn’t want it, not when they could never compare to her. The only woman to steal my heart, my mind, and body too.

She stole it all.

And now I’m taking it back.

“Welcome to your new life, baby girl.”

LAYA

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