Page 17 of Plus-Size Pregnant Mate

As we made our way down the hallway, the clothes littered the floor. Owen pushed open the bedroom door, and I quickly looked, seeing it was the one Owen had been sleeping in. It was dark, and the curtains were pulled, giving the room little light.

I could see a large bed with two bedside tables and matching lamps. A large dresser was against the opposite wall, and a large window was open, allowing a cool breeze to drift into the room.

"God," Owen said softly, snapping my attention back to him. "You're just as soft as I remembered. Your pale skin has always been so beautiful, and I’ve missed it."

I blushed as we tumbled onto the bed. I was only in my bra and underwear at this point. Owen raked his eyes over mybody like he'd been starved his entire life, looking like he could eat me whole.

"I've missed you," he said, fingers unsnapping my bra. "Your scent of lavender and citrus that lingered even after you left. I’ve missed how soft you are. I’ve missed how your hair always curled around your face perfectly."

I felt my bra fall free, and Owen's fingers grazed my nipples. I squirmed, suddenly aching for him—a warmth built in my center traveling down between my thighs.

He kissed me, taking my breath away. I pulled at my underwear, suddenly needing the fabric gone. I needed his hands on me.

Owen was undoing his pants, breaking the kiss. I panted, watching as he pulled his pants and his boxers down in one quick motion. His cock sprang, and my mouth watered.

I had missed him. I had missed us. I missed how we used to make love and how I never worried.

"I missed you," I said, a little shocked by my honesty.

Owen's eyes softened as he reached out, rubbing his thumb over my bottom lip. "Have you?" As he looked at me, I watched him drag his other hand over his cock, his hand moving from the tip of his cock all the way down his length and back up.

I nodded, swallowing as I looked back up at him.

He smiled, grabbing my wrists and pulling them together. He then shoved me back, holding them above my head.

"I'm glad," he whispered. "Because otherwise, I would think you only hated me."

"I do hate you," I snipped back softly. "But that doesn't mean I don't still love you."

Owen kissed me, and I felt his other hand spread my legs, his thumb grazing over my clit.

I bulked, not remembering the last time a man had touched me. But then, thinking about it, I knew it had been him. He'd been my one and only. I’d never been with anyone else after him.

Owen slid a finger in, and I knew that I was soaked, needing him. My mind had completely shut down. I allowed myself to just focus on his fingers inside me, stretching and pulling me closer to an orgasm.

He pressed my wrist harder into the bed. "Are you sure about this, Ashley?"

"Yes," I said, panting, nodding my head.

Owen didn't waste any time, his cock rubbing against my entrance before he slid in. I moaned, feeling the way I stretched and tightened around him.

"I missed hearing you moan," he growled into my neck. "Fuck, do that again."

"Move," I said. "And I will."

He thrust, and I moaned. I threw my head back, gasping for air. I felt his fingers tighten on my wrists, keeping me pinned.

His mouth was on my neck, kissing me softly down my chest. My mind felt foggy as an orgasm built up.

"Say my name," he ordered.

I nodded my head, moaning his name as he slowly moved, his cock hardly entering me now. I knew he was teasing me, just like he used to.

"Have you shut that busy brain off now?" he asked, his mouth on my nipple now, sucking harshly.

I nodded, softly panting. "Yes."

"Good," he said, a smirk on his face.

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