“Take off your clothes, Maeve.” I shake my head, and his green eyes narrow. I see nothing but desire in them, and my heartbeat pounds between my ears and between my legs at the thought of us finally being together like this again.
“I want you to take them off for me.”
He walks to me slowly, predatorily, and I fucking love it.
“Lift your arms and leave them there.” I do as I’m told, loving the stern tone in his voice. He lifts up the hem of my tank top at a painfully unhurried speed, letting his fingers roam over my stomach, my ribs, the sides of my breasts. He stops to cup each of them, weighing them in his hands, and a pained groan leaves his mouth while his thumbs brush back and forth over my nipples.
When I gasp at the sensation traveling straight to my clit, my arms start to drop, and he stops all movement.
“Arms up, Maevey.” I mouth yes, and straighten my arms above my head again. “Such a good girl.” I moan at his praise. He knows exactly what those words did to me all those years ago, and he doesn’t seem surprised that they have the same effect on me now. I fight the urge to melt into a puddle on the floor, and force my limbs to remain upright.
He continues his movement, hands skimming my arms as he pulls my top over my head. I let my arms drop and his eyes narrow again at my bratty behavior.
“I’m gonna need you to stay still for this next part. Think you can do that? That means no touching me.” I nod my response, which seems to be enough for him. He kneels down in front of me, hands going to my hips. He pulls down the band of my shorts and suddenly stops. I know why. He traces the tattoo on my hip bone with one of his fingers. It’s just tiny numbers, but he traces each number with his fingertip, as if branding the date further into my skin, into my soul.
“It’s the day we?—“
“I know what day we met, Maeve.” His head swivels up, and his eyes meet mine. Everything stills in that moment. “When did you get this?”
“Almost ten years ago,” I answer. He looks back at the tattoo then plants a hot, open-mouthed kiss on it, and I suck in so much air I become lightheaded. The urge to run my fingers through his hair, to pull him up to me, is so strong, but I don't. His smirk tells me he knows just how much I’m having to hold back, and he loves it.
He grabs the waistband of my shorts with both hands again, and his strong fingers dig into my skin as he slowly pulls them down my legs. His warm palms skim over my backside before he lets go.
“Spread your legs.” I step out of my shorts, widening both of my legs as I do. Owen runs his nose up one inner thigh, and his hand up the other. My breath starts coming in shorter spurts as he gets closer to exactly where I want him. But a nagging thought makes me stiffen, and of course, he notices.
“What’s the matter?” I shake my head and close my eyes.
Not now, not now, not now!
“Maeve? Talk to me.” I can see he’s about to get up, and I really, really don’t want him to.
“It’s just…I wasn’t expecting this, and I didn’t, um, prepare.” I curse myself for not getting a wax before coming here, then suck in a sharp breath as Owen runs both hands up and down my legs in a soothing motion. “I swear I normally keep things a little tidier down there and I—” All the air rushes out of my lungs as Owen’s fingers part my lips open. I look down to find him staring intently at my core, not a trace of disappointment on his face.
“I like you just like this, sunshine. Fuck, look at you. You’re dripping for me. You’re perfect. Your body is perfect. Do you hear me?” I nod, unable to take my eyes off him as I watch his hand moving. His fingers move deftly over me, cautiously avoiding my clit. “Say it. Say your body is perfect.”
“My body is perfect. Ahh!” I feel two fingers plunge into me as his thumb applies pressure to my clit and there’s no way I can stand up straight much longer. My moans are loud, and my hands are in fists next to me as I do everything I can not to lean on him.
“Good girl. You can put your hands on me now. I think you’re gonna need to hold on.” Both hands land on his shoulders at the same time with a loud clap. His hot tongue meets my clit, his fingers curl inside of me, and then he sucks. Hard. The blazing heat travels from my core out to my fingers and toes as I slump forward whimpering Owen’s name. Everything moves in slow motion as my orgasm takes over, the lava traveling slowly through my veins to reach every last inch of my body.
As my breathing slows, Owen stands, bringing one arm around my waist to hold me up. His hand, the one that was just busy sending me to oblivion, comes up between us, and he takes the two fingers that were just inside me into his mouth. His eyes close, and he moans as he licks and sucks his fingers clean. My breathing quickens again, and I already have that desperate ache to have him inside me come rushing back.
Sensing exactly what I need, Owen picks me up and sets me on the bed delicately.
“I thought you said this time would be quick.” I can’t help but tease him.
“As much as I want to bury myself inside you and fuck you mercilessly, I never want to hurt you. I had to make sure you were ready for me. And I really needed to taste you again.” He brushes his nose against mine as he adjusts himself between my legs.
“All good reasons,” I say before I bring my lips to his, tasting myself on him, already writhing beneath him as I look for friction.
Finally, finally, I feel the head of his cock nudge at my entrance, and I gasp at the feel of him being there with no barriers between us. I’ve never not used protection with anyone and this is why. It needed to be with him.
I let out a shaky breath, and he brings his knuckles to my cheek. “Okay?” God, this question. Nothing sets me off balance and rights me back up more than this question from his lips. The way his brows furrow as he takes me in, and the way the love sounds in his voice every time he says that one little word is my absolute undoing. Tears sting the backs of my eyes, but I smile through it. Not because I feel I should, but because smiling with him comes so naturally again.
“Yes, my darling,” I whisper against his lips, and he pushes further into me. Our eyes meet as he pulls almost all the way out, then further in, and again until he’s fully seated. “Now give me what I’ve missed for seven long years, Owen. Fuck me like you mean it.”
He smirks and his green eyes light up with the challenge. “Maevey, whether I’m making love to you slow or fucking you hard and fast, I’m always gonna mean it. For fucking ever.” He doesn’t give me a chance to respond as he lifts my hips and thrusts into me so hard that I scream with the all-encompassing pleasure of it. This angle has him hitting a perfect spot inside me, and I don’t think I can hold off another orgasm much longer, but I want this to last forever.
“Look at you, my perfect wife. Taking everything I’m giving you.” I open my eyes to find him looking down at where we connect, and I moan again as I feel myself clench around him. Watching him watching us is so hot. “Now tell me, who gets to make you come?”