Just a Number(133)

I stand a little straighter, my chest expanding as my ego inflates. It’s a typical male reaction, and I’m not proud of it, but hearing Amelia admit that she was just as much at fault as me helps. I take a step forward, closing the small distance between us, and look deep into her eyes.

“To be honest, there was only one word going through my mind as I made my way through that bar.” I feel like oxygen is becoming scarce as her breathing deepens, her breasts brushing against my chest.

Amelia pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, her chest heaving with deeper breaths as her eyes flit between mine, and I can’t stop my desire from consuming me. Even though we still have so much to talk about, I want her, and I sense she wants me just as much.

“Oh?” A shiver overtakes her as my hand shifts, the backs of my fingers grazing her hip. She trembles again, shifting her legs slightly, and swallows thickly. Lust surges through my veins in response as the tension between us builds. Every emotion we’d experienced in the last fourteen hours—anger, remorse, fear, love—amalgamates, creating this intoxicating sexual fog I can’t ignore any longer.

I continue to tease the hem of her short skirt, pushing it up slightly as I lean forward, licking my lips. I can’t stay away from her any more. I need her as much as she needs me.

“Mine.”

In a flash, her hands fly up to my face, and I press my lips to hers. She moans when my hands move down over her hips until my fingers hook into the hem of her skirt. Frantic, I tug at her panties, pushing her across the living room and pressing her back against a wall. She steps out of the lace fabric as I push my sweater up her body, grazing her supple breasts over the shirt she wears underneath. She raises her arms so I can remove the sweater entirely, and I throw it to the floor, her shirt following shortly after. Our lips hungrily collide again, her fingers twisting into my hair. She pulls her skirt up around her waist and hops up, wrapping her legs around my hips as I brace her between my body and the wall. Gripping her ass with my right hand, I slip my left below her ass to fumble with the button of my jeans and push them out of the way to free my erection.

“Owen,” she pants when I pull my lips from hers and kiss along her delicate jaw, letting my length graze the silky skin between her legs.

“Tell me,” I murmur between pecks, hiking her skirt up around her waist before palming one of her amazing breasts in my left hand. “Tell me who you belong to.”

Her body quivers against mine, her legs tightening around my hips and trying to force me closer to her, desperate to have me inside her.

I recognize that Amelia isn’t the type of girl who allows a guy to treat her like a possession; she’s strong and confident, never taking shit from anyone—male or female—but she seems receptive to it as she moans and gyrates her hips against me. She hisses when I push my hips forward, my erection strong and prominent as it glides between her thighs. “Amelia,” I say, my tone laced with impatience.

“You,” she whimpers, meeting my intense stare, eyebrows pulled up and together, pleading. “I belong to you.”

I kiss her again before pulling her lower lip between my teeth as I slip my hand around her ass and adjust her hips slightly to line us up. She moans when I graze her delicate flesh, leaning her head back against the wall and closing her eyes in ecstasy.

“Baby,” she whispers. “Please…”

Smiling smugly, I lean forward, my lips grazing the shell of her ear. “Tell me what you want.”

The tip of my erection brushes against her again, and she bites back a cry of passion. “You,” she replies breathlessly when I shift my hips again.

I hum with the shake of my head. “Not good enough.”

Amelia threads her fingers into my damp hair as I kiss a trail down her collarbone and take one of her pert nipples into my mouth. My tongue swirls around the erect peak, and she arches her back toward me. “I-I want you.” With a smirk, I nip at the swell of her breast, surprising a gasp from her. “Make love to me,” she begs. “Claim me, Owen. Make me yours.”

With a growl of satisfaction, I pull back. A look of confusion sweeps over Amelia’s face, but it is quickly replaced with bliss the second I grip her hips and enter her. Her fingers curl into my neck and shoulders as her cries fill the room, and while I’m definitely enjoying the sensation of her tight warmth surrounding me, the truth of the matter is, the standing position is slightly awkward.

She pulls my lips back to hers as I peel her back from the wall and walk us back toward the couch. I lower us and then withdraw from between her thighs, earning a very frustrated groan that is short-lived as I flip her over onto her hands and knees. Grabbing the arm of the couch, she presents herself to me while my hands move roughly over her skin with purpose. I bunch the supple leather skirt up around her slender waist, exposing her to me entirely. My hands continue to glide over Amelia’s ass, and then up along the curve of her hips and toward her shoulders before moving back down her spine. She groans when I reach the base of her spine, gently sliding my fingers between her cheeks and applying the right amount of pressure to make her mewl. Her hands tighten around the arm of the couch, nails scratching the leather ever-so-lightly as I continue to tease her, and she begs quietly for me to take her again. The sound of her voice fades as I oblige her, moving slowly at first, my hips pistoning at a steady pace, my enthusiasm increasing.