Page 129 of Love You Madly

Owen stretches out on the couch, and holds up my favorite green blanket so I can lay down on the couch in front of him. As I lay next to him, he puts his arm around me, pulling me in closer. The weight of being wrapped in his embrace grounds me with his quiet strength.

The soft glow of the TV casts a warm light over the room, and we stay like that for a while, wrapped up in each other. But the more I feel the breath on the back of my neck, the more I realize I’ve started slowly rubbing my ass against him like a cat in heat.

“You know, it never gets old,” he replies, his voice a low rumble that sends vibrations through me. He moves his left hand down to dip lower, slipping under my shirt and brushing against the bare skin of my hip.

“What’s that?” I ask, breathless.

“Seeing the goosebumps prickle your skin when you start to get all worked up for me. I love to watch it, knowing that you’re mine.” His touch sends a thrill of anticipation through me and I feel like my whole body aches for him.

I shift slightly again, pressing back into him, and he slides his hand up and down my side, tracing the curve of my waist and belly. I bite my lip, trying to keep my breathing steady as the heat escalates between us even more.

“You okay?” he asks softly, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear, and I nod, my eyes fluttering closed as I find myself now full on grinding my ass against his now very prominent erection.

A moan escapes me as his hand slips lower, his finger skimming the waistband of my shorts. I gasp softly and my back arches as his touch grows bolder. His movements are slow and deliberate and my body answers in the only way it knows how.

I turn my head slightly, catching his heated gaze over my shoulder, and the look in his eyes makes my pulse quicken. There’s an intensity in his stare that makes me smile, feeling the same pull I always do when he looks at me like this.

His hand travels lower and I am thankful for the elastic in my shorts that allow him to slide his fingers into my wet heat, easily finding my clit and swirling two fingers there.

“Owen,” I gasp, my fingers gripping the fabric of the blanket as I ride the wave of pleasure building inside me. He presses a kiss to my shoulder, his movements never wavering, and I get caught up in the rhythm of his touch.

“Good girl,” he says, pushing his hard dick against the crack of my ass as he chases my climax. “Come for me,” he commands.

“Maybe we should go to the bedroom,” I pant, struggling to keep my voice steady.

“Shhh…” he insists. “We aren’t going anywhere until after I have filled you up. And I cannot do that until you come for me.”

His words are my undoing and I come so hard that my whole body tenses as he works my clit. “I need you inside me, Owen. Please,” I beg.

“As you wish,” he says, shifting his gym shorts down and sliding his cock between my legs until he slowly makes his way inside me.

Owen's grip tightens on my hips as he fills me, moving in slow, deliberate thrusts that make my whole body shudder. The heat between us is overwhelming, every inch of my skin tingling with the friction of our bodies moving together. His breath is hot and ragged against my ear, and I can feel the way his muscles tense, each motion sending a fresh wave of pleasure through me.

"You're perfect," he groans, his voice thick with desire. "Fuck, Callie, you feel so good."

I can barely form a coherent thought, lost in the rhythm of his thrusts and the way his fingers dig into my flesh. My head is spinning, and I grip the couch, my knuckles white as I brace myself against the mounting pressure building inside me.

"Don't stop," I plead, my voice breaking as he drives into me deeper, hitting my g-spot, making my vision blur. "Please, Owen, just like that."

He grunts in response, his pace quickening, the intensity between us growing with each thrust. The room is filled with the sounds of our labored breathing, the creak of the couch, and the desperate, breathy moans that escape my lips. It’s taking everything I have in me to stay quiet. The raw urgency of it all is electrifying, pulling me under.

Owen's hand moves to the small of my back, pressing me down further as he angles his hips, pushing me right to the brink again. I cry out, the sensation overwhelming as I fall apart around him, every nerve ending alive and burning with pleasure. He doesn’t relent, chasing his own release, his movements growing frantic and erratic.

"I'm close," he growls, his voice strained. "Fuck, Callie, I'm gonna?—"

I reach back, clutching at his side as he slams into me one last time, his release crashing over him as he spills inside me. He groans deeply, his body shuddering against mine as heclutches me close, our bodies still joined. For a moment, everything else fades away, and it's just the two of us—breathless, tangled, and sated in the dim light of the living room.

Owen slowly pulls out, collapsing beside me on the couch, his arm draped lazily over my waist as we both catch our breath. My heart is still racing, my body buzzing from the aftershocks of our shared intensity.

"We should really use the couch more often," he murmurs with a smirk, his fingers tracing lazy circles on my skin.

I laugh softly, nudging him playfully with my shoulder. "I think we've broken it in enough for tonight."

"Maybe," he says, pulling me closer. "But I’m not done with you yet."

I turn to face him, meeting his gaze. The warmth in his eyes matches the heat still lingering between us. “Good,” I whisper, leaning in to kiss him softly. I savor the quiet moments of contentment that wrap around us, binding us together even tighter.

fifty-six

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