Page 35 of Taking The Virgin

Chapter13

Owen is playinga game withme.

He must be, because I’ve been lying here in bed in my lace-trimmed, cream silk nightgown for two hours now. Each flash of the digital clock, each dragging second tells me that he’s getting some sort of revenge on me for making him wait last night.

And the wait is killingme.

Even so, I can’t fight my exhaustion—the past nights of tossing and turning have done a number on me—and I finally give in to sleep. But just before I lose consciousness, I stretch my hand out on the mattress next to me, wishing Owen were here, feeling a pit of emptiness inside ofme.

And then suddenly, I snap awake, feeling him climbing into bed beside me. “Red,” he says softly.

It’s dark and my eyes haven’t adjusted. “What’s going on?” Iask.

He doesn’t answer at first.

When he kisses me in the soft spot behind my ear, my breathing begins to quicken. He plants another kiss on my neck, and I can feel a vein there pounding against his mouth. He gently bites me like a famished thing, a wolf that’s found a bit of prey, and I moan again.

“Quiet,” he whispers. “Not a word, Red.”

There’s a faint scratch of stubble as he nuzzles me, and I almost feel like I’m still dreaming, because the Owen I know wouldn’t stand to have anything but a cleanly shavenface.

As he keeps nestling against the back of me while gnawing on my tender skin, my clit pulsates. My pussy feels plumped, swollen with the blood pounding down to it, and I press my thighs together to assuage the sharpneed.

He runs his hand to my breast, squeezing it, making me cry out a little.

“You can’t stay quiet, can you?” he whispers roughly in myear.

His voice echoes through me as if he’s inside of me, a fierce vibration, a brutalache.

I start to say something—I don’t even know what—but he crushes his mouth to mine, stealing my breath away. His kiss is long and lazy, his hand busy caressing my breast through the silk of my gown. I writhe against him, still half-asleep, still dreamy. The surreal feel of him only heightens my arousal, sending a pulse of cream down between mylegs.

He ends the kiss, and I grip his thickarm.

“I didn’t think you wanted this tonight,” Isay.

“I’ve been wanting it ever since the last time I had you.” He’s whispering, making it feel as if we’re doing something forbidden and we’re trying to get away withit.

He buries his face into the crook between my neck and shoulder, nibbling at me until I strain beneathhim.

“So delicious,” he murmurs. Then he digs his fingers into my hair, sliding his mouth to my temple. “And your gorgeoushair…”

He commandingly tugs me all the way under him until his streamlined, powerful body presses down on mine. “It’s driving me crazy. And I know you’ll smell just as good in the one place that always does. I know that because I’ve already tastedyou.”

He rocks against me, his cock nudging against my silk-covered pussy. I spread my legs and cry out a little at the spike of lust that claps throughme.

“Not a word,” he whispers again. “No more talking, Red. Not while I fuck you tonight.”

Did he have his fill of talk at dinner? Is having a conversation too messy for him right now, or does he want to just hear the sexy, chopped sound of our breathing?

I begin to think he’s on to something as he drives his cock against my sex again, and I hold back any kind of sound except for the slight gasp I can’t contain. I can’t help it—blood is zooming through me, making every breath labored, making my mind fog up until my fevered body rules me in everyway.

As he dry humps me, there’s nothing but my panting and the wet sound of my juices. He’s turning me on expertly, ruthlessly, and I gyrate with him, hooking one leg around him so he can grind his tip against me harder.

He gets more aroused, too, maybe by the slick sounds, maybe because of my agitated breathing. A low, primal growl emanates from him with every push againstme.

I scrape my fingernails down the side of his body. He grunts, then laughs quietly, giving me an extra hard prod with his cock. My hips suspend off the bed, then I groan as I fall back to the mattress. From there, our pace picksup.

My nightgown is riding up, over my hips, the tip of him messily slipping through the folds of my sex until he reaches between us to take hold of his shaft. He urges his head against my beating clit, and at the electric contact, Imewl.

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