Page 4 of Owen (Storm Enterprises)

“That’s right, beautiful baby girl. I own this little cunt.” I strum her clit again, gifting her with my appraisal.

She licks her lips, which forces my balls to ache with a feral need for her I can no longer control, and a growl erupts from me.

“I saved it for you.” Her eyes glisten with uncertainty, the weight of them holding a thousand wishes, each begging for me, and fuck, does she have me by the fucking balls. By my heart thundering in my chest, she has me.

Her words smother me, causing a cough to lodge in my throat. “What?” Surely, she’s not saying what I think she’s saying.

“I saved my virginity for you, Owen.” Her tongue darts over her bottom lip while my fingers rest on her pussy. “You were my first kiss; I want you to be my first everything.”

Dumbfounded by her admittance, I squeeze my eyes closed. “Jesus, fuck, Laya,” I choke out.

She doesn’t know what she’s asking, not from a man like me, and yet I want to be that man. Jealousy consumes me at the thought of anyone else experiencing her body when it’s meant to be mine.Mine.

She turns in my arms, and my eyes fly open. My fingers slip away but remain wet from her arousal. Then she raises up on her tiptoes and wraps her arms around my neck. I stand there, frozen, unable to move a damn muscle because every one of them is wound painfully tight by her touch.

“I want your cock inside me, Owen.”

My tongue sweeps out to dampen my dry lips, and she watches it. Her eyes become heavy, then her lips touch mine, her tongue seeking entrance, and I allow it.

Each gentle swipe is like torture as I allow her to explore my mouth, not moving a goddamn inch to encourage her.

She pulls back, but my lips follow hers before I stop myself, the thin thread between us becoming more frayed by the millisecond. “Touch me, Owen.” Her hand slides between us, and my pulse quickens as she wraps her palm around my solid cock over my slacks.

As she strokes it, my fingers somehow become tangled in her hair, holding her in place as my lips meet hers again, and this time, it’s me forcing my tongue into her mouth, me showing my consumption, my control.

She moans, and a surge of pleasure zips up my spine, the sound so intoxicating it seems surreal. “Harder,” I grit out as she pumps me.

“Please, I need to feel you.”

“Jesus. You don’t know what you’re asking for, Laya.” I pull back, breathless and dazed, staring into her green orbs.

“I do. I want it.” She squeezes me. “All of it. I want it to hurt, Owen. I want to feel you when I walk. I want every inch of mybody to ache like my mind does without you. Burn me from the inside out.”

I brush a wave of hair behind her ear. I need her to know I’m not like other men and don’t do slow, meaningful fucking. “I won’t just burn you, baby girl. I’ll scar.”

Her pupils dilate. “Then scar me. My body is your canvas to paint with your marks.”

She fumbles with my belt, and fuck, I let her. Then she pops open the button of my slacks, and I snap my hand out to grip her wrist.

“Take your dress off.”

She complies eagerly, letting her dress slip to the floor, then I bend and lift her by her ass. Her smooth legs wrap around me as I walk her over to the bed, all while breathing in her scent, her need for me, and I could drown in it.

I lay her on the bed and pull back to stand. Her eyes flash with a vulnerability I hate, but I pause to take her in. Her beauty is unimaginable. The way her chest rises and her nipples peak have me tugging my belt from my slacks. Then I turn, ignoring her soft whimper, and walk toward her bedroom door to flick the lock. Taking a deep breath, I exhale as I fight the ever-internal battle with myself.

Walk away!my mind screams.

There’s no going back from this. My heart drums.

I spin to face her, and all the air is stolen from my lungs.

Make her yours.

LAYA

He stands at the foot of the bed; his sharp stare penetrates me with such desire that heat travels up and over my neck. Achingly slowly, his gaze roams over me, from head to toe, as if memorizing every inch of me. The longing in his eyes is imperative, sending a shiver and surge of arousal through my body. Has his need for me always been so great, and only now I am seeing it?

I watch with rapture as he disrobes and kicks his clothes to the side until all that remains is the folded belt in his hand.

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