by Ana Sparks
“Owen,” I moaned out, and he growled gutturally, pushing me against the back of the couch.
For a moment, I was sure he wouldn’t stop, he seemed so caught in the moment. When my hand ghosted against the front of his pants, however, he nearly jolted off of the couch. I stared at him, wondering if I’d done something wrong.
“I…oh, Emily. I’m sorry. I just…I got swept up, and…” he trailed off, looking like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
I hesitated, trying to steady myself and breathe normally in place of the desperate gasps I was gulping down.
“I would never push you into something like that, especially after…Christ, I’m sorry,” he said, tensing his hands into fists.
I rested my hands on his own, trying to soothe his doubt. It was the last thing I wanted him to feel. I brought his hand to my cheek, urging him to touch me. After a moment, his hand relaxed and I pressed against his palm.
“I’ve just…never done anything like that before. Everything was moving so fast, and I needed a moment to think. I didn’t think…I didn’t think you felt that way. I didn’t know you wanted me like I want you,” I said in a reverent whisper.
He smiled gently, tracing his fingers down the column of my neck.
“It would be a shame for me to just take your innocence in a burst of adrenaline on an uncomfortable couch,” he murmured.
I giggled, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pulling him in close again. When our lips touched this time, it was gentler. There was no rush. He seemed content to let me explore him, to move at my own pace. I parted his lips this time, exploring his warm and moist mouth with my tongue.
He seemed to be struggling to keep his hands to himself, and after a moment, I drew away.
“You’re right; that would be a shame,” I said quietly.
I wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed—maybe both. I stood up, lingering a moment before inclining my head towards the bedroom.
“You’re ready to sleep after all of that?” he asked, his voice laced with disbelief.
I shook my head, smiling shyly in spite of how bold I was being. He blinked, his cheeks turning the faintest tint pinker.
“Not sleep. I’m not going to push you into anything, either. It’s just…I kind of made my mind up about this…a while ago,” I sputtered, trying not to melt under his stare.
He rose from the sofa, tilting his head curiously for a moment.
“Are you sure that’s what you want?” he asked gently.
I nodded, trying not to buckle at the knees. It would seem he sensed my dilemma, because in one swift motion, he swept me up into his arms.
“Take me to bed,” I whispered.
He acceded to my request with surprising tenderness, carrying me to the bedroom.
Chapter 18
Emily
Laying me gently on the bed, Owen hesitated for the briefest of seconds. I stretched out comfortably, the scratchy sheets the last thing on my mind. Though I wasn’t quite sure what to do at that point, I was prepared for the handsome SEAL to take the initiative and show me what I’d been missing.
He didn’t seem particularly rushed, looking me in the eyes as he edged onto the bed. I felt my lips curl upward as I reached out to touch his cheek. He gently took my hand, guiding it to his lips.
Placing a kiss to the center of my palm, his eyes fluttered shut in what I could only hope was silent ecstasy. The touch of his lips on my skin, his hot breath against the softest part of my hand, these things burned in the pit of my gut. It was a fire I didn’t ever want to go out.
He drew a hair’s width away from my hand, turning soulful eyes to meet my own. He parted his lips to speak, but I wasn’t prepared to break the silence. I slid my hand behind the back of his muscular neck, drawing him closer to me.
Tilting his head, I touched my lips there, kissing him in a way that could only be described as timid exploration. His breath seemed to stammer, his pulse fluttering beneath my lips.
I wondered how long it had been since he had done this. I wondered if I could ever hope to please him like someone with more experience. I didn’t voice those traitorous thoughts, however, allowing my fleeting desires to guide me.
My hands found the hem of his shirt, dipping underneath for the pads of my fingers to touch skin I’d not yet laid eyes on. Goosebumps rose, trailing behind each little caress. I steeled myself for a moment, moving to tug the garment off of him. His hair tousled a bit as I yanked it overhead, and his eyes crinkled with breathtaking delight as I met his gaze.
My hands shook nervously, but I found the fortitude to spread both palms across the expanse of his chest. He inhaled deeply, and I was so captured in the moment that I scarcely noticed when he spoke.
“Are you sure this is what you want, Emily?” he murmured, keeping absolutely still under my wandering touch.
Hoping my hesitation had not caused his arousal to fade, I snuck a glance to the bunching of fabric between his thighs. His sizable manhood strained against his pants, and I found my breath catching in my throat. I forced myself to meet his gaze once more, feeling meek under the intensity of his stare.
“I can’t think of anything I want more,” I said honestly, making no effort to hide my desperation.
I wanted him more than I had ever wanted anything in my life; I would gladly sacrifice my freedom if it meant spending eternity at his side. Sex was no commitment, but I would give him anything he asked. If that was all he wanted, it’s all I would need. Though I hoped he might feel some sliver of feelings for me, I didn’t waste time thinking of the future. All that mattered was that very moment, the time we were together.
“I’m sure that’s not true,” he laughed, his modesty as entrancing as every other part of him.
I found myself giggling, pulling him towards me as I lay back on the bed. He moved fluidly along with me, his eyes never leaving my own as his hand found its way onto my hip. His thumb brushed against the sliver of exposed skin between my pants and shirt, and it was my turn to erupt into chills.
“You’ve just never been free before. I don’t want to take advantage of your innocence, the fact that what you feel for me is…probably not the easiest to deal with,” he said quietly, his tone turning serious.
“For once in my life, I think I won’t look before I leap,” I said gently, leaning in to kiss him again.
His hand shifted underneath my shirt, edging it up to expose my stomach. I felt a little self-conscious, but his expression was one of awe as he dipped his head lower, tracing his tongue around my bellybutton.
I gasped, fisting my hand in his hair and guiding him higher. My shirt inched higher and higher, and his tongue explored every inch of my abdomen before he drew away with a wry smirk.
“I’ll make sure you don’t regret it,” he said assertively.
He gently tugged my shirt the rest of the way off, taking my undershirt off along with it. His eyes rested appreciatively on my chest, and I wished that I’d worn something sexier.
“You’re beautiful, Emily,” he whispered.
I felt my cheeks flare up with warmth, and he smiled gently before reaching behind me to unclasp my bra. I sat slightly more upright, allowing the bra to fall away and expose my breasts. I was tempted to hide behind my arms, but I managed to refrain.
“Oh, you say that like I’m something special,” I said awkwardly.
He cupped my breasts in his hands, his skin hot against my rapidly hardening nipples. I bit my lip, staring up at him from beneath my eyelashes. He held my gaze for a moment longer before leaning in to whisper against my ear.
“You are something special,” he assured me.
I all but melted at that, fully prepared to be nothing more than putty in his hands.
Owen didn’t disappoint, carefully rolling a nipple between his fingers as he lowered his head to the opposite breast. His tongue flicked out, the sensation nearly too much to bear as the wet muscle touched one of my most sensitive
spots. He swished it around, flattening his tongue against me and dragging it up before wrapping his lips around my pert bud.
“Oh, Owen,” I gasped out, my hands fumbling blindly to grip the sheets.
It was more than I could have ever expected or hoped for, and I felt as if I were giving myself to sweet insanity. When he drew away, I could do little but whimper and plead for more. He looked pleased with himself, thrilled by the primal reaction he had set alight within me.
“You want to keep going?” he asked carefully, and I could feel him toying with the button on my jeans.
“I want you to keep going and never stop,” I implored, cupping my breasts with my hands.
He watched me with a little smirk, and I wanted to just wipe that smirk off of his face. So I did.
I lurched upright, capturing his lips with an intensity that even I couldn’t have predicted. He easily unfastened my pants, sliding them down my hips to expose my panties. I was almost embarrassingly soaked.
He pressed a finger between my outer lips, touching me through my panties.
“Wow, you do really want this,” he snickered.
I rolled my hips, desperate for the friction he wasn’t providing.
“Stop teasing me, Owen. I want you…I w-want you inside me,” I tried to say forcefully, but my confidence petered out as he looked at me with a smug expression.
He tossed my pants off of the bed, slowly and almost reverently pulling my panties down soon after. I squeaked at the breathy growl that slipped past his lips as I was exposed to him.
“Slow and steady,” he muttered, more to himself than me.
I inhaled a shaking breath, spreading my thighs to further part myself. His fingers dug into the skin of my hips, and it looked very much like he wanted to eat me alive. Before I could make a smart remark, he licked my lower lips slowly with his warm tongue.
I cried out and thrashed, but he kept my hips pinned to the bed to keep me from moving too much. He licked me from the bottom of my soaked slit to the tip of my clit, and it was the most delicious sensation of my life.
“Oh my God,” I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut against the overwhelming sensations.
I could feel something inside me rapidly mounting, something more intense than I’d ever felt before. However, before I could reach that blessed peak, he licked his lips and pulled away.
“Why did you stop?” I whined, clutching his face in my hands.
He raised up, moving to get out of his own pants. As I saw his manhood peeking out of his briefs, I felt myself growing more and more heated.
“You did say you wanted this…” he began, freeing himself from his underwear.
His length bounced in the air, looking almost painfully hard. If his arousal was anything compared to my own, I was surprised he could keep from plunging himself into me.
“It’s not too late to change your mind,” he said haltingly, wrapping his hand around himself. “If you don’t want this,” he murmured.
My heart ached at how attentive he was, how much he cared about my wellbeing.
“Please don’t make me wait any longer,” I sighed, pulling him nearer to me.
His skin was hot, a few beads of sweat rolling down the tanned expanse of flesh. Any hesitation he may have felt seemed to slip away as he settled between my thighs, looming over me.
He guided himself towards my entrance, the tip pressing against me just barely, and I realized, in that moment, that there was no other man I could ever imagine doing this with.
I’d never felt so impassioned in my life. No one could hope to compare.
He pushed inside of me, and I bit my lip as inch after inch disappeared into my depths. He cupped my chin with one hand, pressing our lips together as he drew back slightly before pushing into me fully. I squealed, sinking my nails into his shoulders and trying to focus on the kiss.
“Are you okay?” he asked in a hushed voice, and I nodded with much more confidence than I was currently feeling.
He hummed, reaching down between us to press his thumb to my clit. He rubbed circles around it, slowly drawing his hips back before bringing them to mine again. The mix of pleasure and rapidly fading pain had me reeling, but I couldn’t imagine asking him to stop.
“I’m perfect. It feels so good,” I gasped breathily, the words ringing true as he began to work his hips more rapidly, making me bounce with each thrust.
My eyes nearly rolled back, and all at once, pleasure like none I’d felt before washed over me. I cried out, clenching around him as he continued to pump in and out. Owen seemed undeterred by the sudden tightness, and each movement was only serving to heighten my pleasure.
“Oh, Owen!” I gasped.
“Yes, Emily,” he shouted, thrusting once more before emptying himself inside of me.
I felt my insides being coated with his essence, and somehow it only made the experience better. His body shook as he clenched the sheets before nearly collapsing on top of me. He managed to roll to the side, gasping for breath nearly as desperately as I was.
There was so much I wanted to say. I longed, more than anything, to tell him how I felt. When I turned to speak to him, his eyes were closed and his breathing was beginning to even out. I rolled my eyes, but then realized that my disappearance had drawn him out of very little sleep.
Resigning myself to keeping quiet, I grabbed his arm and pulled it around myself, settling in for a good night’s sleep. I couldn’t imagine it getting any better.
Chapter 19
Emily
When I woke the next morning, Owen was no longer in the bed. I could feel the warm spot that he had previously occupied, but his absence worried me faintly. I knew I was likely overthinking it, but I couldn’t help wondering if he had decided that he regretted what had happened.
I hoped he would tell me as much if that were the case, liked to think he would care enough to tell me if he had decided that last night was a mistake. Then again, I hadn’t even spoken to him that morning, so fruitlessly worrying wasn’t going to do any good.
Rising out of bed, I noticed that his clothes had been tidied up, and my own were sitting at the foot of the bed in a folded pile. Well, surely he was just being considerate. I made a point of not getting dressed, walking straight out of the bedroom to seek out the man that had captured my heart.
I found Owen in the kitchen, preparing a breakfast out of what few ingredients were available in the safe house. I watched him silently for a moment before getting the confidence up to approach him. I wrapped my arms around him, enjoying that he had at least left his shirt off for the time being. I could only hope the fact that he’d put the rest of his usual attire on wasn’t some sort of terrible implication.
Although, if that wasn’t a bad sign, the way he stiffened in my arms certainly had to be.
“Good morning,” I said quietly, waiting for him to relax into my embrace.
He didn’t. Instead, he stepped out of my grip none too kindly, turning to consider me with a critical expression.
I deflated, already aware that he wasn’t going to be the kind man he had been last night. I hadn’t been that bad, had I? I thought I’d done a pretty good job; I’d managed to get him off, at the very least. Maybe he had just been caught up in the moment and felt taken advantage of.
Whatever the case may have been, he wasn’t happy.
“Let’s not get too touchy-feely, all right?” he said, an edge to his voice.
I flinched, trying to ignore the sting of his words. Clearly, I had done something wrong. I just wished he would tell me what it was, so I had a chance to make it better. I had no doubt that I had fallen for Owen in the time I’d known him, and I thought he might have felt something for me in turn. I no longer felt like a captive, if that could really even be used to describe my feelings prior to that moment.
Staring at him, I wondered how to go about asking him what I had done to upset him. I couldn’t just ask him if the sex was bad, could I? Surely there was something deeper
than that, but I didn’t want to consider that possibility too intensely.
If it had just been an intimate flaw, I could easily dismiss that as inexperience. Maybe he would agree to a bit of hands-on practice, and I was confident that I could learn how to properly please a man. No, not just how to please any man—I wanted to know how to please him specifically. I wanted to know what touches sent a thrill through him, what jolted desire through his being.
Realizing that it was a conversation that was likely better saved for later, I offered him a nervous smile. He didn’t return the expression, looking rather strained. He turned his attention back to the pancakes he was cooking, looking furious to see that he had taken too long to flip the one in the pan.
He growled, grabbing the pan and throwing it in the sink—pancake and all.
“Son of a bitch, I can’t even make breakfast like this,” he swore, storming past me to rummage through the cabinets again.
This time, he came out with a box of cereal that had likely gone stale some time ago. I tried to keep a positive expression, flinching as he slammed the box on the table then tossed down a bowl.
“Eat up. We’ve gotta get a move on. I’ve dawdled too much on this mission,” he said coldly.
“W-was I that bad?” I stammered, and his expression softened slightly, if only for a moment.
He quickly steeled himself again, and I realized that trying to talk to him was a lost cause. I sat down at the table, pouring some cereal in the bowl.
“Is there any milk?” I tried again, hoping that he would at least answer that simple question.
“Sorry, no. You’re just gonna have to eat it dry. They didn’t really have a lot of time to stock this place,” he replied, not sounding remotely sorry.
I felt immeasurably silly sitting naked at the table while he paced the floor. He seemed lost in his own mind, and I wasn’t prepared to draw him out again. It seemed I was going to have to come to terms with the fact that we were pretending the night before hadn’t happened.
