Page 55 of Owen (Storm Enterprises)

His face falls slack, and he tenses beneath me, but I remain headstrong. He’s offering me a lifeline, a deeper insight into what makes him tick. He’s finally letting me in when I’ve spent years on the edge, silently pleading for him to give in to me. I saw the signs he wanted me, but his mind was another story, protected by a barrier he never let anyone behind.

He licks his lips and rolls them between his teeth.

All I know about his father is he was not a good man; my brother and the guys spoke in hushed voices whenever discussing him. I also know he was the original owner of a security firm that Owen took over and merged with the guys to create STORM Enterprise. Whenever I asked questions about Owen’s family, I was always shot down, made to feel like the young girl I was, like I had no business asking questions that clearly distressed Owen. Anger would roll off him in waves, then he’d drink himself into oblivion. Many mornings, I would slip into the spare room at our house that had become a second home to Owen and his best friends, and watch him sleep off his hangover while imagining creating a life for us together, away from the pain that caused him to spiral so epically. I’d leave him Tylenol and water beside his bed, take away his dirty clothes, hoping above all hope that I wouldn’t smell cheap perfume on his clothes when I brought his shirt to my nose to breathe in his scent.

Yes, I deserve to know, as his wife, as the mother of his children, and hopefully, as his best friend. “I don’t want secrets between us,” I whisper with yearning.

“The necklace you’re wearing was my mom’s.” He swallows thickly while my heart hammers from knowing there’s more to come. “I took it from her when she died.” He closes his eyes as he screws his face up as if pained. “He murdered my mom,” he blurts, his chest rising rapidly, and my heart constricts at the agony he must have endured and still endures to this day.

My hands find my necklace, and his eyes watch on as I press it against me.

Knowing he gave me something of hers, something he treasured so dearly, instills the love I know he feels.

Taking a deep breath, I remove my hand and draw circles on his chest with the tips of my fingers, hoping my touch brings him comfort. His eyes narrow, so I tilt my head, wondering what he’s thinking. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re not repulsed by me?”

I rear back. Repulsed? Never.

“I love you.” It slips from my lips, and a whoosh of air escapes him. “Tell me,” I coax gently. “Tell me all of it, Owen.”

His eyes plead with me to show mercy, but in this moment where we share our truths, I want all of him. It’s the only way I can give all of me.

As if hearing my thoughts, his lips move as my mind whirls over what he’s just said to try to make sense of it. “He throttled her during sex. I found her in bed with his marks around her neck, her eyes… Fuck, her eyes were wide, bloodshot. Fuck.” He slams his fist on the mattress, bringing me back to the present to make sense of his words.

His dad killed his mom during rough sex.

Owen likes rough sex.

He panicked after we first had sex at the marks on my neck and pushed me away.

“He wasn’t a good man, Laya. It wasn’t some sex game gone wrong.” He shakes his head. “He wasn’t a good man, Laya. Neither am I.”

My body coils tight. “That’s not true.” I glare at him. “You love me and Romeo, and I see how much the guys mean to you, my family too. You’re a good man, Owen. I just wish you could see it too.”

He chuckles, but it lacks jest. “You always did see the good in me.”

“That’s because I saw all of you.”

He clears his throat, then fidgets, brushing his hand over his jaw as if contemplating his next words.

“There was more to my father than everyone thought.”

I nod. After years of hearing rumors, I’ve often wondered what is true. “He made me do things as a child, things that would make your blood curdle. That’s something I never want for Romeo.” He holds my gaze. “I want him to have a normal childhood, one where his father protects him and loves him above anything else, above the power and the money. Above everything.” His eyes hold something so much more than the words he speaks, they hold love. I replay his words, thinking about the meaning of them because they cause my heart to flutter. The way he describes protecting Romeo’s future is beautiful and freeing. Knowing this man would do anything to protect my son instills my belief in him, and I want nothing more than to live it.

I take his chin in my hand. “I love you.” I speak with firmness, leaving no room for doubt. “I love everything about you, Owen. All your imperfections. I see them all and want to own them like you own mine. I want you to give them to me so I can be your everything.”

“You are my everything. You always were.”

I connect our hands, then bring them up to my throat. My pulse races, our fingers linked over his mother’s chain, and now that I know the connection, it only makes my heart beat stronger for him.

“You’re the only person to ever see me, the real me,” he whispers. “That’s why I fell in love with you, Laya. You saw every part of me and never gave up on me. If anything, it only made you want me more.”

His fingers twitch over mine, encouraging me to press harder.

“It’s true. I crave your darkness. I want you. All of you.”

Then I crawl down him, positioning myself over his hard cock, and wetness pools between my legs at the way his eyes flare with arousal as I slide my slick pussy over him.

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