Page 50 of All of Me

“Yeah,” he says. “I let Brooke head out. Figured she’d been here long enough.”

I glance toward the baby monitor on the nightstand, noting the stillness of the screen. “The girls?”

“Napping,” he says, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “It’s been quiet since I walked in.”

“Thank God,” I sigh, relaxing into his embrace. “You didn’t sleep at all, did you?”

“Not yet,” he admits, his lips quirking into a faint smile. “I wanted to check on you first.”

My heart squeezes at the rawness in his voice, the dedication he shows, even when he’s running on fumes. I press my hand to his cheek, feeling the slight scratch of stubble beneath my palm. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

His smile softens, but there’s something darker in his gaze—a weariness that runs deeper than the lack of sleep. “You’re the amazing one, Callie. You handled last night like a pro. I don’t know how you do it.”

“You were there,” I whisper. “That’s how I do it.”

Owen shifts, rolling onto his back and pulling me with him so I’m resting against his chest. His hand slides up my back, his fingers trailing slow, lazy circles over my skin.

“Have I told you how much I missed you today?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against my temple.

A shiver runs through me at his tone, low and full of relief and longing.

“You’re here now,” I reply softly, tilting my face up to meet his gaze.

His eyes search mine for a moment before he leans in, capturing my lips in a kiss that starts slow and tender, like he’s savoring the moment. His hand moves to the back of my neck, pulling me closer, deepening the kiss until it becomes more urgent, more consuming.

My hands slide over his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my fingertips. The exhaustion I felt just moments ago begins to fade, replaced by warmth that spreads through me as his lips move against mine.

“You sure you’re not too tired for this?” I tease, my voice breathless as I pull back.

Owen smirks, his fingers grazing the curve of my waist. “I could be dead on my feet, and I’d still have energy for you.”

A laugh bubbles out of me, soft and light, as I press my forehead against his. “I missed you too.”

“Good,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that makes my heart race.

His lips find mine again, and the exhaustion, the chaos of the past 24 hours, fades into the background. In this moment, it’s just us tangled together, our shared strength holding everything else at bay.

His callused hands roam over me, deliciously rough against my skin. He peppers me with kisses and slips his hand below to tease the waistline of my leggings. I wish I had slept naked. His taunting is driving me wild. He takes his time, letting each touch linger and relishing in the way my body responds to him. He slips my panties to the side, sliding his fingers softly through my slit. When he uses two fingers to circle my clit, I nearly fall apart in his arms. He continues the movements as moans escape my lips.

When he slowly pulls away from me, I ache at the loss of his touch. I hear him undo his belt and I revel in the sound. I wonder if maybe someday we will play with his belt in a way I am too shy to admit that I want. The thought turns me on further as I lay on my stomach waiting for him.

The bed dips again when he crawls back onto the mattress. He grabs a pillow and slides it beneath my hips. His hand lingers there, firm and steady, sending a shiver down my spine. The rough warmth of his palm traces a slow path upward, skimming over my lower back, igniting every nerve in its wake.

I arch instinctively, feeling the weight of him settling behind me, his body molding to mine in a way that feels both possessive and reverent. His lips find the nape of my neck, brushing softly at first, then with deliberate intent, leaving a trail of heat that seems to burn into my skin.

"You're so beautiful like this," he murmurs, his voice husky and low, vibrating against my neck. His hands roam slowly, exploring, teasing, building a tension that curls deep in my belly.

Every movement is unhurried, as though he wants to memorize the feel of me beneath him, to savor every moment, every sigh. His teeth graze the sensitive spot just below my ear, and a soft moan escapes my lips before I can stop it.

"You like that," he whispers, his words more a statement than a question. I can feel the grin in his voice, the way he knows exactly what he's doing to me. His hand slips lower, his fingers skilled and confident as he elicits sounds from me I didn’t even know I was capable of making.

My body responds to him like a song he knows by heart, every note perfectly played, every rhythm perfectly matched. Time feels suspended, the world narrowing to just the two of us, the intimacy between us so raw, so consuming, that nothing else exists.

It occurs to me that he’s never taken me like this before. Until now, my swollen belly had always been a barrier, keeping me from surrendering to him in such a vulnerable, intimate way. Now, with nothing between us, I feel exposed in the best possible sense, completely laid bare to his touch, his desire.

There’s an unspoken trust in this position, an unyielding surrender that speaks volumes more than words ever could. His hands frame my hips, grounding me, yet urging me to let go. His breath fans over my skin, warm and ragged. He’s savoring every second of this newfound closeness as much as I am.

It’s not just the act itself—it’s the raw intimacy of it, the way it feels like a new discovery, even after all this time. My body opens to him fully, willingly, a silent invitation he accepts with reverence and passion.

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