Seven(27)

She suddenly felt Owen’s teeth against her skin, and it caused another shiver to start low in her spine. “I was already suspicious. And as soon as you started talking about how big and good my cock was, I knew it had to be fake.”

She huffed. “I do think your cock is nice and big—and it does very good things to me,” she said matter-of-factly.

He chuckled, sending the vibrations throughout her body. “That’s nice to hear. But I know better than to believe you’d shout it out in the heat of passion. If only because you wouldn’t want me to get a swollen head.”

Faking had been a decent idea, but she hadn’t thought things through enough—it would have been better if she’d had some prep time and had been able to rehearse a little first.

Sighing, she admitted, “Your head is far too swollen as it is.” She tried to pull away from him, mostly because the sappy tenderness was returning in full force as he gently cleaned off her body, despite her resolve to be mad at him for finding her out. “Well, since that was a flop, I think I’ll run to the bathroom and clean myself up a little bit more before we start up again.”

“Why bother?” he asked, refusing to let her get away from him. “You’re not going to stay clean, you know. You have two more orgasms left.”

She looked at him over her shoulder and got a little thrill from how possessive his expression was. “That’s your swollen head talking. I’m not holding my breath, though.”

He gave her nipple a teasing little tug between his finger and thumb, causing her to suck in her breath and hold it. “Aren’t you?” he murmured.

“Smug bastard,” she muttered. “Thinks he can just…”

She never completed her mutter, because her mumbles transformed into a shocked squeal as Owen flipped her over onto her back, parting her legs until he was kneeling between them.

Gazing up in startled delight, she just about melted away at the sight of him. She loved him so much—no use to deny it any more—even when he was infuriatingly smug, presumptuous, and a know-it-all.

She particularly loved when he looked at her like this—as if he couldn’t get enough of her, as if everything she did made him want her even more, as if she was his.

She was his. And she wanted so much for him to be hers.

But that had never been in the cards for them. It had been off-limits from the very beginning.

Even though he might be kneeling between her thighs, erect and naked and hotly possessive, it didn’t necessarily mean he felt anything like love for her.

She was so distracted by her thoughts that it took her a minute to realize that he had lifted up one of her legs until her foot was level with his face.

Feeling a little awkward with her leg in the air but also more aroused as the move stretched her completely open before him, Amy squirmed against the mattress. She could feel the cool air of the room against her wet pussy. “Owen,” she said. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He practically scorched her with the intensity of his gaze. “Giving you another orgasm,” he answered hoarsely, his desire and urgency having evidently returned as the brief diversion was forgotten. “A real one, this time. Don’t you want another one?”

“Yeah,” she whispered truthfully, whimpering a little when he started to tongue the arch of her foot. “I want another one.”

She did want another one. More than she’d thought possible after coming five times already this afternoon. But when she heard how tremulous and needy her voice sounded, she made herself continue, “But that doesn’t mean you’re actually up to giving me one.”

He chuckled warmly and edged forward, sinking down on folded legs until he was sitting on his ankles, and his cock was in the vicinity of her groin. “You’ll never give me even an inch, will you?”

“Nope,” she breathed, trying to keep her voice from shaking. Owen had lifted her other leg as well so her ankles were propped up against his shoulders. “Not even an inch. Everyone else gives you what you want, but I’ll never do that. My job is—”

She cut off the words abruptly—not because Owen was fingering her deliciously but because she realized what she was saying. She had been about to say something stupid about what her role was in his life, as if she held a special place there.

"Your job is what?” he asked, splaying his thighs out a bit more as pulled her hips up into position.

She let out a soft whine as he held her legs apart, lined himself up, and then slid slowly inside her, her body starting to bend in half as he leaned forward. “Job,” she gasped, trying to think clearly when all she was aware of was his hard substance filling her completely, then sinking in even deeper. “To…to…”