I snap my head up and stare at him, perplexed. “Why?”
His bare feet pat against the floorboards, and he kneels in front of me so we are eye level. Owen crosses his arms on his knee and reaches for my hand, then second guesses it as if he doesn’t want to push boundaries, but he thinks better of it and tries again. He takes my hand in his. Warm, welcoming, and the callouses are so gentle like they are every time. I shouldn’t be shocked by his kind caress, but I am.
“I wasn’t kidding when I said I wanted to love you, Jolie. You make me want to keep a promise I made a long time ago, and that’s what I went to the cemetery for, to tell her that I think I found a woman I want to open my heart up to. I wanted to come back, but I wanted to give you time without me. I don’t want to pressure you into anything. This is so new, fast, and with everything you’ve been through, I don’t want you to feel trapped. You aren’t. I want to make that very clear. You are in control here. With every decision, with me, with what you want to do in life. If you want to leave tomorrow, I can’t stop you. I want you to know where I stand. You’re more to me than a friend. You’re more to me than the woman I saved.” He brings my hands to his lips and kisses my knuckles. “You saved me, and I’m willing to do anything you want, Jolie.”
“I… I…” I don’t know what to say. I’m thrilled. I’m happy. This is what I want. The part of me that wants to take life by the balls and truly live is ready for everything he wants to give me. Then the dark part of me, the woman that’s been locked in a cabin and used, shakes her head and tells me to run and hide.
I don’t know which part to listen to.
“You don’t have to say anything. I know it’s a lot to process. I just wanted you to know that you’re the reason I’ve woken up,” he says, standing and letting go of my hand. “I’m leaving the ball in your court.” He waits for a moment to see if I have anything to say, but I don’t. I’m … scared. I’m hopeful.
I’m nervous.
What if he wants sex? I can’t. The thought petrifies me.
“Well, that’s all I wanted to say. That and I’m sorry for upsetting you. That’s never my intention.” He bends down and gives me a kiss on top of my head, lingering for a bit as if he doesn’t want to leave. “Whatever you decide, you have me no matter what.” Owen turns away and strides to the door, turning the knob to leave.
“Owen?”
Saying his name has him stopping, turning his defined jaw over his shoulder. “Yeah, Jolie?”
“If you’re looking for a sexual relationship right now, that’s something I can’t do yet, but I like you too.”
He inhales a sharp breath, and the slight pat of his feet stroll across the floor. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I nod, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. “I don’t know what to do about it. I’m not ready for sex.”
“That’s okay. I’ll be ready when you’re ready,” he says, lifting my head up by pressing his fingers under my chin. “I’m a grown man, Jolie. Sex isn’t everything, especially when someone is as special as you. You have a lot of healing to do. I just want to be by your side as you do it.” His fingers are soft against my healing jaw, a feathered touch that I’ve never experienced. He goes to pull away, and I lay my hand flat against his, leaning my face into his palm.
“There is one thing I want to try if you’re okay with it,” he says.
I lift my eyes to his just as his thumb rubs across my bottom lip, and my heart thumps when my brains puts two and two together.
“Can I kiss you? Is that something he did? No pressure, I swear.”
I shake my head. “No, he never did that. I’ve … I’ve never been kissed,” I admit, cheeks heating from my innocent admission. I’m glad the man never kissed me. He said it was too personal and would make me love him.
Love him.
Disgusting, egotistical man. As if I could ever love a man who did what he did to me.
“I’m glad,” he says, taking a seat next to me. The mattress dips from his weight, and his hand lands on my knee. “I’m glad he didn’t take that from you too. Selfishly, I’m glad to be the first one to touch them, if you’ll allow me.”
I nod absentmindedly. My heart is racing. I feel like I might throw up. My tongue is dry. Not from fear. Well, not that kind of fear.
But what if I do it wrong?
He leans in slowly, inching his face closer to mine. “You can say stop whenever you want, and I’ll stop.”
I swallow, trying to coat the dryness in my throat. I’d give anything for a glass of water right about now. My chest rises and falls in hurried beats, and when his lips are a breath away, he stops.
“You sure?” he asks again, the heat of his words scorching my mouth.
To others, I suppose this seems very clinical and not sexy, but I find him asking for my consent the sexiest thing in the world considering I’ve never had that option before.
Nodding, he cups the back of my head with his hand and his lips fall to mine. I squeeze my eyes shut and tense, but when he lifts his mouth for a second and comes back down, kissing me again, I relax.
His lips are soft, plush, and firm. He turns his head to change the angle, a bit demanding, but patient as he waits for me to relax. I inhale and open my mouth, tilting my head in the opposite direction. Our lips seal together, and it’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. Owen’s hand moves from the back of my head to my jaw, and I forget about my past, my apprehensions, and let Owen in.
He notices the difference in my body language, how I’m more relaxed and scooted closer to him, then he wraps my arms around his neck, and he tries something else.
He flicks his tongue over my lips, and I gasp in surprise. He takes the opportunity to slide inside my mouth. He tastes of mint and something else, something I can’t quite put my finger on, but I’m loving it. Tentatively, I meet his tongue, wrapping them together in an awkward dance at first because I have no idea what I’m doing.
That’s normal, right?
When I finally get the rhythm down, our tongues slide together effortlessly, and I can’t get enough. I nibble his lip, and he groans down my throat, so I do it again since he likes it so much. His hands rub down my shoulders and grip my biceps, then slide to my waist. I wait for him to try to cop a feel, to lift me up and set me on his lap, but he doesn’t.
Owen keeps his hands in a safe zone, and it makes me kiss him harder. Why is he unlike any man I’ve ever met?
“Come here,” he mumbles against my mouth, and he leans back until his back is flat against the bed.
He’s letting me stay in control.
“I want to keep kissing you, nothing more, babe,” he says, grabbing my jaw to bring me closer to his face. “Just let me feel those lips, and I’ll die a happy man.”
I smile before I kiss him again. He makes me feel like I’m on top of the world, which is really something because I know what the bottom of the world looks like. I lay on top of him and cup his face, languidly kissing him as if we have all the time in the world.
I suppose we do.
My breasts rub against his chest, and my nipples bead, tightening in response to the defined muscle touching me. Sizzle pops the blood in my veins as a new thrill rushes my system.
Lust.
He is turning me on, and that’s something I wasn’t expecting. His arms wrap around my back and pull me against his chest, tight where there is no space between us. That’s when I feel it. The long, thick erection trapped in the prison of his jeans.
I stop kissing.
Stop feeling.
The sizzle dies.
Just as easily as the fear disappeared, it reappears. I shut my eyes and try to breathe through the panic. Owen isn’t him. I’m not there. I’m not trapped in a cabin.
“Hey, we can stop. I’m sorry. I can’t… I can’t hide how much you affect me and how much I want you, but you can trust me. I’m not going to do anything, Jolie. I meant what I said, the ball is in your court.”
I roll off
him and lay my fingers against my tingling lips. The kiss was explosive for me. I’ve never felt anything like that in my entire life. “I know. I’m sorry, Owen.”
“Don’t apologize. It’s okay. I never want you to apologize. I don’t expect us to jump in bed. Do I want you? Obviously, you see what you do to me.” He points to the large bulge in his pants, and my eyes slide down to see if it looks as big as it felt.
The answer is yes.
It’s huge, which makes sense because he is huge, everywhere.
“But I’m not ever, ever, going to touch you unless you want me to, Jolie. One, because I’m not that kind of man. Two, you’ve been through something that I will never truly understand because that hasn’t happened to me, but I can try. Three, I could kiss you all day and night without anything else and be the happiest man in the world. Your lips are heaven after experiencing so much hell,” he states by placing another kiss on my mouth, then leaning his forehead against mine. “Our pace is the one you set.”
“Can you lay here with me and keep on kissing me then? Nothing else.”
“Nothing else matters when everything is right in front of me.” He situates himself on half of the bed, head against the pillow, and I mimic him by laying parallel. He wraps a finger around my short hair and tucks it behind my ear. “You’re beautiful,” he tells me, sincerity in his deep blue eyes.
I can’t look at him after he says that because I don’t believe it. I have another ten pounds to gain. I know I’m not pretty.
“I’ll say it until every day until you see it too.” He presses a kiss against the tip of my nose.
Owen isn’t going to be the man who saves me.
He’s going to be the man who heals me.
Sixteen
Owen
I give Jolie one last kiss before slipping out of bed. I don’t want her to wake up scared to find out we fell asleep together. She isn’t ready for that. I meant what I said about her controlling this. Sure, falling asleep is innocent, but she’s used to waking up alone, and I think hours’ worth of kissing until we passed out is a step in the right direction, a step that we can stay at for a while.
Bringing the blanket over her shoulders, I lay a kiss on her temple before slipping out of the bedroom and shutting the door behind me.
Fuck me. I can’t remember a time when I kissed until I couldn’t feel my lips. I really could kiss Jolie all night. I glance down at the reason why I rolled out of bed and grumble in annoyance. I’ve been hard ever since she laid her lips on mine.
Now, I’m serious about not pushing her and not touching her, giving her the space and respect she deserves.
Which means a lot of hand time for me in the future.
I’m okay with it.
I haven’t masturbated like that in years because I haven’t had the urge or care to.
Yeah, that’s about to change.
My room is right across the hall from hers, so I open my bedroom door to the extravagant cave, as I like to call it. The walls are painted a slate gray and the curtains are white to give it some airy quality instead of a dungeon. I like dark spaces. My bed is a California King, black comforter with a gothic style frame. My floor is white marble, and my ceiling as small LED lights all over it to give it the appearance of the night sky.
I don’t bother going to my bed. I walk straight to the bathroom and turn on the lowlights so I’m not blinded. The floor in my bathroom is different. It’s heated because I can’t stand my feet being cold longer than they have to be. Shower stall can fit three of me. There isn’t a door; it’s an open area made of rock from nearby cliffs. There are four rainforest showerheads above me and a few along the wall to spray against my body.
My favorite part of the shower has the ability to convert into a sauna if I want. To the left of the shower is a huge quartz tub that can easily fit me and Jolie if she ever wanted. If I ever had the pleasure of seeing her body that effortlessly.
Thinking of her naked, soapy breasts are doing nothing for my erection. Her beauty isn’t what turns me on the most. It’s her resilience. Her ability to bounce back after what’s happened to her. She’s taking it one day at a time, but she’s determined. She’s adapting to her new life.
And that is what is making my blood rush south.
Her effort to be better.
Damn, what a woman.
I flip the water on by pressing the touchscreen against the wall. The water is already at the desired temperature. I tilt my head back as the water splashes against my body, head to toe. I rub my hand down my chest, and my fingers dip into the divots of my abs until the trimmed bush around the base of my cock scratches the callouses against my palm.
Daring to look down, the water cascades down my nose, and I stare at the hard, angry shaft pointed up at me. The tip is blood red, the veins protrude and pulse with need, and pre-come leaking from the slit drips over the helmet of the crown. I fight the urge to wrap my hand around myself and lean my arms against the wall, knees buckling with how much my sack is throbbing to release all that pent-up come
I think about our kiss, those sweet lips that have never felt anything other than mine, and my hand slides down the slick wall.
“Oh, Jolie,” I whisper her name as I lay my head back against my shoulders, circling my palm around the swollen girth. It’s been so long since I’ve thought of anyone while I jacked of, and I hardly remember what it’s like. “Fuck, oh, that’s it, baby. Ride that cock,” I say to the ghost of her I’m imagining in my head.
She’s in control.
She’s calling the shots because she needs to be in charge, and I have no problem with it because Jolie is riding me like she owns me. Her tits are perky, small, a little less than a handful, and they are goddamn perfect. Her nipples are the size of a rosebud before they bloom, red and tight. My hands are on her as I move her faster against me, grinding that sweet clit against me so she can double the stimulation.
Jolie is tight and hot, fucking everything I could dream of. Her hands land on my chest to gain better leverage as she moves like a damn wave, crashing against me over and over again. Her moans are loud, she’s vocal, telling me what she wants, how much she likes my cock deep inside her, touching all the forbidden places that no man should ever be allowed to touch without permission.
But she’s mine.
She’s all mine.
“Jolie, that’s it. Bounce on that cock, just like that.” Every time she rocks forward, I thrust up, not wanting an inch of me to be out of her sweet pussy.
She’ll whimper my name and warn me that she’s about to come.
I move my fist faster, fucking the tight space I’ve created for my pleasure. My forehead thuds against the wall as I chase this dream, this fantasy of having her, and it’s the best fucking moment of my life because we waited.
We waited until she was ready, and there is nothing that feels better than that.
Jolie collapses on top of me, gyrating her hips and moaning as her orgasm shakes her body. Her pussy tightens and spasms around me, and her wispy pants graze my ear as she rides out the ecstasy.
The feel of her grasping her pleasure and my cock at once has me tumbling over the edge. I tell her to take every drop of me, hoping she becomes pregnant with my child. I want nothing more than to be a father. That opportunity was taken from me once, and this is my second chance.
“Jolie!” My orgasm has my hips jerking as I come, painting the wall of the shower with thick white streams. “Fuck.” I continue lazily jerking my semi-hard cock, milking every drop of built-up seed. When the seventh and final rope leaves me, I collapse against the wall, away from the mess I’ve made, and take a few deep breaths to try to calm myself down. “Holy hell,” I gasp as the water washes the front of my body.
My head is dizzy, and my legs tingle as my body comes back to life. I shut my eyes and rub a clean hand over my face. I’m a goner. I’m fucking toast. Jolie has got me wrapped around her damn finger.
Shaking the last bit of the daze
the orgasm gave me from my head, I wash my hair and body. The water loosens the tight muscles in my shoulders and relaxes me from the rough day. Hearing her talk about what happened to her again wasn’t easy. I want to kill that bastard all over again. No one fucks with what is mine.
No one.
I punch the screen in agitation and turn the water off. The peace from the orgasm gone and is quickly replaced with anger. The bastard is dead but that doesn’t mean shit. He’s alive and well in her memories, and only time and love can help fade the nightmare of her captor.
Water drips off my hair and down my face, so I run my fingers through it and brush it back. I grab a towel from the hook and dry off my body before wrapping it around my waist and tucking the edge in so it doesn’t fall off me. I brush my teeth, bomb my hair, debate if I want to shave, and honestly, I don’t fucking feel like it.
I’m exhausted, and I want to sleep. I have no idea how complicated the next few months are going to be. I need all the sleep I can get, especially if there is a heist job happening soon. We’ve been out of commission for too long due to the last job. We nearly exploded into pink mist and it has taken awhile for Heaven’s leg to heal. Now that it has, he does physical therapy build up his strength.
After that, we are going to get back to work. It’s another reason why he’s eating so much, so he can put on weight and gain muscle.
Ambling toward the bathroom door, I shut off the light and walk into my bedroom, forgetting all the problems in the world. If I’m to slay fucking dragons, I need a good night’s sleep.
A sniffle has me lifting my head and rubbing my eyes. Jolie is sitting on my bed, crying, and she has her arms wrapped around her legs.
“Jolie? Jolie, what’s wrong, what happened?” I rush to her side.
“You left. You were gone when I woke up and… I missed you.”
My heart leaps in my chest. She wanted me to stay.
“It’s stupid. I know. I’m pathetic.” She stands and wipes her cheek. “I don’t know what I’m thinking. I’m a mess, I know that, but I felt safe. The nightmares were gone, but then you were gone. And—” She hides her face in her hands and takes a step back. “I’m sorry.”
Cruel Intoxication: A Dark Romance (Underground Kings Book 4) Page 13
