He nipped at the hard peak of her nipple, causing Amy to give a sharp cry of pleasure. “We have plenty of time,” he assured her, smiling against her breast. “What’s your hurry?”
“You know my hurry.” Maneuvering until she could squeeze her thighs around one of his, she rubbed herself against his jeans, sighing in relief at the needed friction. “And you’re not one to talk, anyway.” As he raised his upper body, she reached out and grabbed the hard bulge in his jeans, squeezing gently in a way she knew drove him crazy.
“Fuck,” he rasped, staring down at her as she fondled his groin and humped his leg. His eyes were wild and ravenous, and he started visibly perspiring at the same time his pelvis began to thrust a little against her hand. With a helpless groan, he squeezed his eyes shut. Whispered, “Fuck, yeah.”
Feeling thrilled and victorious, Amy worked him over with one hand while she rubbed hard against his thigh. Panting and urgent, she quickly worked up toward a climax, the rough fabric of his jeans over the hard strength of his thigh creating lush friction against her clit.
And this orgasm Owen couldn’t even take credit for. She was so going to win this wager.
Then he released a strangled exclamation and jerked his body away from hers.
Amy sprawled out in only her panties on the bedcovers, gasping and trembling. She’d been so close to coming against his thigh that her arousal was now throbbing painfully.
When Owen had caught his breath, he narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re going to pay for that bit of poor sportsmanship.”
Amy couldn’t summon up enough lucidity to say anything, so she just stuck out her tongue at him.
She could see him try to stifle a grin, but he managed to hide it as he pulled off his shirt and jeans.
“I can hardly wait.” Since Owen was distracted by the removal of his clothing, she snuck her hand down to her clit and tried to finish the job she’d begun against his thigh.
She’d only just started when he let out an indignant sound and snatched her hand away. Holding her wrist in a ruthless grip, he grabbed her other one as well, raising her arms above her head and then holding both wrists firmly against the pillow with one hand.
Her body stretched out, completely vulnerable before him, Amy took a deep breath that made her breasts rise and fall. “I was just trying to help. Seven is a pretty big number.”
He repositioned his naked body between her spread legs. “I don’t need any help.” A spark of a different kind entered the blue of his eyes. “Seven might be a big number, but I’m a big boy and I can handle it.”
Despite the urgency of her arousal, Amy dissolved into laughter at this. She struggled to free her hands since she wanted to cup his cheek. But when he refused to release her, she just smiled at him. “You’re adorable when you make bad jokes.”
Her tenderness appeared to distract him momentarily, and his hand relaxed on her wrists as he leaned down to kiss her softly. But when she tried to pull her hands away, he tightened his grip.
“Are you going to trap my hands the whole time?” she asked, feeling vulnerable, which made her slightly anxious and strangely excited at the same time.
His eyes raked over her naked body stretched beneath him. “I’ll let you go if you promise to be good.”
“I’m always good.” She was. She’d been a good girl all her life.
“In this case, being good means letting me do what I want with you.”
Her lips parted and her pussy clenched at his textured voice. At what he’d said.
He met her eyes with an expression that looked unexpectedly significant. “Do you trust me?”
“Y—yes.”
“Baby, do you really trust me?” He leaned a little closer, and she was suddenly terrified that he could see into her soul.
“Yes. I do.” It was the truth, and there was no way she couldn’t admit it.
“You’ll trust me in this?”
She nodded, her voice catching in her throat.
His expression changed, but her vision was slightly blurred from the intensity of her emotions and arousal, so she couldn’t identify the nature of the shift. But he released her wrists and adjusted so he wasn’t trapping her so completely.
She moved her arms so they were more comfortable, but she remained stretched out beneath him, exposed to his view, his touch.
He leaned down to kiss her before trailing his lips down her body, teasing and fondling as he went. Soon, she was squirming and struggling not to grab his head and force him to move faster and give her some relief.
Finally, he straightened up and gazed down at her with a possessive smile.
“What is that smile for?” she asked, although she had a feeling she knew.