Page 36 of Homecoming

With a smile on her lips, Grace reached for the hemline of her own sweater, pulling it up over her head. She wasn’t sure exactly where this relationship was going, but she planned on having fun while she could. There was a restraint to Owen that made her think tonight might be all she would get from him, but she was willing to risk it. She’d been mooning over him for a very long time.

Maybe he would be a really bad lover…

Yeah, right...

Owen moved close, his hands raising to just barely lift her breasts. Then his thumbs rasped over her lace-covered nipples. “Oh,” she said, her voice breathy.

Owen’s touch sent a jolt through Grace, her breath catching as his thumbs teased her nipples through the thin lace. The roughness of his hands—calloused from years of hard work—contrasted with the deliberate gentleness of his movements, and it drove her wild. She arched into him, craving more, her body humming with a need she hadn’t felt in ages. Maybe ever.

“Grace,” he rasped, his voice so low and gravelly, like he was fighting to keep control. His eyes locked onto hers, dark and searching, as if he was still half-convinced this was a mistake. But the way his hands tightened on her, the way his breath hitched when she pressed herself closer, told her he was just as lost in this as she was.

She didn’t give him time to overthink it. Hooking her fingers into the waistband of his jeans, she tugged him toward the bed, her lips curving into a playful smirk. “You’re not backing out onme now, Owen Black. Not when I’ve finally got you where I want you.”

He let out a rough chuckle, the sound vibrating against her skin as he followed her lead. “Bossy, huh? Guess I should’ve known.” But there was no resistance in him—just heat and a flicker of something softer, something that made her heart stutter even as her pulse raced.

The back of her knees hit the edge of the bed, and she sank down, pulling him with her. Owen braced himself above her, one hand planted beside her head, the other sliding down her side to grip her hip. His weight pressed her into the mattress, solid and real, and she couldn’t stop the soft moan that slipped out as she felt every inch of him against her—the hard planes of his chest, the ridge of his erection straining through his jeans.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, his lips brushing her jaw, then trailing down her neck. His beard stubble scraped against her skin, sending shivers racing through her, and when he nipped at the sensitive spot just below her ear, her hands fisted against his sides.

Grace wasn’t about to let him have all the fun. She slid her hands up his back, nails digging in just enough to make him groan, then down to the button of his jeans. Her fingers fumbled for a moment—damn nerves—but she popped it open, her breath catching as she felt the heat of him beneath her touch. “Owen,” she whispered, her voice trembling with want, “I need you.”

He froze for a split second, his forehead resting against hers, breath ragged. “Grace, I—” He swallowed hard, and she could see the war in his eyes again, that flicker of doubt. Whatever secret he was holding onto, it was clawing at him even now.

“Hey,” she said softly, cupping his face and forcing him to meet her gaze. “Whatever it is, it’s not changing this. Nottonight.” She brushed her lips against his, slow and deliberate, pouring every ounce of her desire into it. “I want you. All of you.”

That seemed to snap something in him. With a low growl, he kissed her back, hard and hungry, his restraint unraveling. His hand slid under her bra, shoving the lace aside to palm her bare breast, and she gasped as his thumb circled her nipple, sending sparks straight to her core. Her clit throbbed, aching for attention, and she rocked her hips against him, desperate for friction.

Owen didn’t make her wait. His other hand dipped lower, deftly unbuttoning her jeans and slipping inside. When his fingers brushed over her through her panties, she whimpered, the heat pooling between her thighs almost unbearable. “Fuck, you’re soaked,” he muttered, his voice rough with awe, and the rawness of it pushed her closer to the edge.

“Please,” she breathed, clutching at his shoulders. “Don’t stop.”

He didn’t. His fingers slid beneath the fabric, finding her slick and ready, and when he stroked her clit with slow, deliberate pressure, her head fell back, a moan tearing from her throat. Owen watched her, his eyes dark and intense, like he was memorizing every sound, every shiver. “You’re killing me, Grace,” he said, his voice strained, but there was a grin tugging at his lips—wild and unrestrained, just like she’d wanted.

She was too far gone to respond. Her hips bucked against his hand, chasing the pleasure building inside her, and when he slipped a finger inside her, then another, curling them just right, she shattered. The orgasm hit her hard, waves of heat crashing through her as she cried out his name, her body trembling beneath him.

Owen didn’t let up, drawing it out until she was gasping, boneless beneath him. Only then did he pull back, his chest heaving as he looked down at her, a mix of pride and hunger inhis gaze. “Merry Christmas tome,” he said, echoing her earlier words, and despite the haze of her climax, Grace laughed.

But she wasn’t done with him yet. Not by a long shot. Reaching up, she yanked him down for another kiss, tasting the promise of more on his lips. “We’re just getting started,” she murmured, and the way his eyes flared told her he was all in.

Owen’s lips crashed back into hers, the kiss hard and desperate, like he couldn’t get enough. Grace met him with equal fervor, her hands roaming his bare chest, fingers tracing the coarse hair that trailed down his stomach. She followed that tempting line lower, slipping her hand into his open jeans, and when her fingers wrapped around the thick heat of him, he groaned into her mouth, the sound raw and broken.

“Grace,” he gritted out, his hips jerking against her touch. She stroked him slowly, reveling in the way he pulsed in her hand, hard and heavy with need. He was big—bigger than she’d expected, hoped—and the thought of him inside her sent a fresh wave of arousal curling down through her belly.

“You’re gonna ruin me,” he muttered, his voice strained as he caught her wrist, stilling her movements. His stormy eyes were half-lidded, pupils blown wide with lust, but there was that flicker of hesitation again, like he was teetering on the edge of something he couldn’t take back.

“Good,” she shot back, her tone teasing, but her gaze steady. “I want to.” She pulled her hand free and shoved at his jeans, pushing them down his hips along with his smooth athletic boxers. He helped her, kicking them off with an impatient grunt, and then he was bare above her, all hard muscle and taut skin, his erection jutting proudly against his stomach.

Grace’s mouth went dry. She’d known Owen was built, but seeing him like this, shields gone and unrestrained, was a whole different level. She reached for him again, but he caught her hands, pinning them above her head with one of his own.

“My turn,” he said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through her. He shifted down her body, his free hand tugging her jeans and panties off in one swift motion. The cool air hit her overheated skin, but it was nothing compared to the fire in his gaze as he took her in, sprawled out beneath him, naked and wanting.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he breathed, and before she could respond, his mouth was on her. He kissed his way down her stomach, slow and deliberate, his beard scraping deliciously against her skin. When he reached the apex of her thighs, he parted her with his fingers, and then his tongue flicked over her clit, hot and wet and devastating.

Grace cried out, her hands twisting in his grip as pleasure shot through her. He didn’t tease—he devoured her, licking and sucking with a hunger that left her trembling. His broad shoulders pushed her legs wider, and she was helpless against the onslaught, her body arching off the bed as he worked her with relentless skill.

“Owen—oh God—” Her words dissolved into a moan as two fingers took the place of his mouth around her clit, curling them against that spot that made her see stars. He growled against her belly, the vibration pushing her higher, and she felt the pressure building again, fast and unstoppable.

“Come for me,” he murmured, his voice rough against her slick skin, and that was all it took. Her second orgasm ripped through her, sharper and more intense than the first, her thighs clamping around his hand as she shattered. He didn’t stop, drawing out every shudder until she was a panting, quivering mess.

---