by Mia Madison
My breath hitching must have been audible because he was quick to dispel the notions that were beginning to form in my head.
“I only plan to return the favor, Charlie. We’re not… Not tonight. You understand?”
I understood what he meant, but I didn’t understand why. When I frowned up at him and voiced my thoughts, he sighed.
“I don’t think you’re ready to take that step yet, princess,” he said, shushing me when I started to argue. “And maybe I’m not ready yet either. But I would love to worship your body and hold you while we sleep. Is that enough for tonight?”
Considering it was more than I ever dreamed of having, I nodded immediately. We both smiled as he led me to his bedroom where he returned the favor until we exhaustedly ended up in a pile of sweaty limbs and fell asleep.
8
The night I spent in Owen’s arms was undoubtedly the best sleep I’d ever gotten, but I still woke up feeling oddly empty.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out why. The dreams I had of Owen claiming me completely were still fresh in my mind and finding myself alone in his massive bed only intensified the feeling of loneliness.
I grabbed the robe from the back of his bedroom door and made my way through the house. I tried not to let my disappointment show when I found him fully dressed in the kitchen, but there was no way he could have missed it.
He had no problem ignoring it, though.
“You hungry?” His eyebrows raised expectantly so I gave him a half-hearted nod and sat in the chair he pulled out for me. “I made pancakes.”
“Sounds good.”
Owen froze to the spot. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. It’s just… You weren’t there when I woke up. I thought…” I trailed off and frowned. “I’m not really sure what I thought. But I didn’t like it.”
Owen sighed and took a seat in the chair beside me. He rubbed at his jaw for a moment while I contemplated the stack of pancakes in front of me—the strained silence between us ruining the little appetite I did have.
“I’m sorry, princess. I didn’t trust myself to stay in bed with you this morning.”
“What do you mean?”
His eyes darkened and I got it. When he actually said the words, I shivered.
“Waking up beside you naked was difficult enough. If you got closer and tried to cuddle up to me I don’t think I would’ve been able to control myself.”
I swung my legs to the side to face him, the pancakes completely forgotten.
“I don’t want you to.”
“You don’t know what you’re asking, Charlie.”
“I’m asking to be yours. I’m ready, Owen.”
The silence returned when Owen shut his eyes like he could block out temptation by removing me from his sight. Deflated, I turned my attention back to the food and felt a stab of guilt when I realized there was no way I could eat anything. I already felt like I was going to be sick.
“When is Layla picking you up?”
“Whenever I text her,” I replied without looking his way. “But she said she’ll cut me if I wake her up before ten.”
“How nice,” Owen murmured sarcastically before sighing yet again. He seemed so disappointed when he said, “It’s only seven.”
“Sorry to intrude on your day,” I muttered bitterly. “I’ll get dressed and wait in the living room. I-I’m sorry.”
I stood abruptly and marched down the hall, grateful that I managed to make my exit before I showed him just how upset I was. I frantically gathered my clothes from his bedroom floor and when I finally had everything in my arms—I screeched and dropped the pile when Owen’s hand landed on my shoulder and spun me around.
“Wh-What are you—”
“Fuck it,” he hoarsely said as he gripped my hips and pulled me flush against him. “You sure you’re ready?”
Excitement started to churn in my stomach and I nodded rapidly.
“I’m sure. Are you ready?”
“There’s nothing I want more than to claim the woman I’m falling in love with.”
My eyes widened, but no words emerged. They couldn’t—not with the dominating way his lips crashed over mine while he backed us to his bed. His movements were graceful as he assisted me up and we crawled back together as one unit, not once breaking the kiss until we were settled.
He untied the knot of the robe that covered my body while I shakily undid the buttons of his shirt, cursing the fact that he got dressed at all. Though I doubted he expected the morning to go the way it was. I sure hadn’t.
I was already familiar with his body and I was also used to him seeing mine, but it felt completely different to feel his body heat and weight as he settled over me. I nervously reached up to push at his shoulders, but his intention to merely kiss me became clear and I let him ease back down.
We kissed and touched and held each other there for what felt like hours. The bit of anxiety I felt about losing my virginity faded the moment when it finally clicked in my head that he was prolonging the foreplay on purpose.
Whether it was to give me a chance to back out if I wanted it or to distract me—I had no idea. Either way, I shoved at his shoulders and pushed him off of me, intent on finding out.
“What’s wrong?”
“You tell me,” I said with a nervous smile. “Do you not want to do this?”
Owen smiled sadly as he said, “I do want to. I guess I’m just a little worried about what it’s going to mean.”
It was like having a bucket of ice-cold water dumped on me. I shifted backward—desperate to get away from the prodding length that was suddenly far too close to where I had previously been longing for it.
“Please tell me what you mean,” I begged. “Spell it out for me.”
I refused to cry over my confusion. I was an adult and though I might have been naive about things like sex and men—I was determined to be rational. One too many times had I seen things get blown out of proportion by a simple misunderstanding.
But Owen wasn’t fessing up.
Instead, he turned the tables on me and asked, “What will it mean to you?”
In the spirit of being clear and rational—I opted to be totally honest. The fear of rejection was stronger than ever, but did I really have another choice?
“I-I’ve been in love with you for years, Owen. It’ll mean everything to me.”
I could’ve done without my usual nervous stutter, but I was proud of myself for getting it out. Owen inhaled a sharp breath and stared down at me—clearly stunned by my confession. But as surprised as he might have been, a truly ecstatic grin spread across his lips.
“Then I guess we’re on the same page,” he said softly as he repositioned himself back on top of me. I allowed him to do so, smiling when he said, “It’s you and me from now on, princess. I’m not going to let you go.”
“Because you’re falling for me?” I asked hopefully, feeling a few happy tears beginning to form at the corners of my eyes.
“Because I already did.”
He plunged inside and I yelped at the intrusion. To my great surprise, there was no pain. Just a slightly uncomfortable feeling of fullness that I quickly adjusted to as Owen cupped my cheeks and murmured apologies against my lips.
“Don’t—Don’t apologize. It feels…” I paused and shifted my hips, gasping when I felt his cock moving within me. “So good.”
“Yeah? Want me to move?”
I nodded and braced myself for potential pain only to moan wantonly when none came. I was soaking wet from the lengthy foreplay and feeling Owen inside me for the first time was absolutely incredible.
My dreams had never done it justice, but I had a feeling they would be a little closer to reality now that I knew what it actually felt like. Which meant I’d be waking up desperate for him a lot more often.
“O-Owen,” I choked out when I felt the slow tempo of his thrusts begin to increase. “Ohh! Don’t stop.”
“Do you like it like thi
s?” he breathlessly asked. “Or slower? Tell me, princess.”
“I love it. I love it all,” I admitted as I buried my face in the crook of his shoulder and licked at his sweaty skin. “Take me however you want. I’m yours.”
Owen hissed and snapped his hips roughly, causing a squeal to slip past my lips. The noises he forced out of me would probably end up embarrassing me later—but the wild look in his eyes every time a sound left my mouth told me I had no reason to care.
He liked it. He liked making me moan and squeal and call out his name as my body shook like a leaf.
He started grinding his hips against mine instead of outright thrusting and I felt the friction on my clitoris down to my bones. Between that and the way his cock still stretched and moved within me, it was only a matter of minutes before I was digging my fingernails sharply into his back and screaming as I came harder than ever.
“Good girl—my good, sweet little princess,” Owen muttered deliriously in my ear. “So fucking tight and wet—fuck!”
I recognized what was about to happen and instinctively locked my ankles together behind his back, smiling when he let out a tortured groan while he continued his shallow thrusts in and out. His eyes popped open when he felt the restriction behind his back and he grinned wickedly down at me.
“What’s this? You want to be filled with my come, princess?” I gasped when he started pumping harder. “Cause if you don’t let go—I will.”
We stared into each other’s eyes for an extended moment and the only thing I could bring my tired body to do was tighten the hold I had on him with my limbs. Owen dragged in a shaky breath as he accepted my consent and thrust deep into me once more before he stilled—flooding my core with his seed.
“Charlotte,” he groaned.
His forehead dropped to rest against mine while his hips spasmed. We stayed that way until his body went lax and I lost the energy to keep holding him in place.
When he finally pulled out, he dropped to the bed and rolled me to lie on his chest. I hummed happily, though I cringed a little when I felt the evidence of his orgasm beginning to leak out of me. It was an unusual sensation.
“You and me, princess.”
I opened my eyes and looked up at him, smiling at the peaceful look on his handsome face. His sandy blonde hair looked almost brown from his sweat and it was sticking out in different directions. I ran my hands through it and gasped when he abruptly grasped my wrist only to move my hand to his lips and kiss each of my fingers.
“I love you,” I said once more, no trace of the nervous stutter this time.
His eyes popped open and he gave me a smile so tender it made my heart swell.
“I love you, too.”
9
That night and day I spent with Owen was easily the best twenty-four hours of my life. But all good things must come to an end. At least they did when you lived with your parents.
Layla picked me up when I texted her and carried me home while badgering me for details. She knew how uncomfortable her questioning made me so after I fessed up that it did happen—she let it go. I tried to ask her about what was going on with her, but she shrugged me off with the excuse that she really needed to get back home. Something about not missing a yoga session.
So with a shrug, I went inside and hid from my parents as much as I could. And despite not being able to see each other often, Owen and I became practically inseparable.
The toy he had given me suddenly had a new purpose and we spent quite a few nights on the phone where he would talk me to orgasm before whispering sweet things until I was tired enough to fall asleep.
It was lovely, but it wasn’t enough. When the weekend rolled around, Layla came to the rescue. She didn’t seem to mind, though I found she was increasingly distracted each time. Yet she still refused to talk to me about whatever was going on.
It was the morning after the third night I spent in Owen’s arms when the blissful fantasy we’d been living in was shattered.
Owen had made love to me tenderly the night before—a far cry from the usual desperate fuck I’d get when I first arrived at his house. A few days apart drove him crazy. When I awoke in the morning, I found him lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. He seemed to be lost in thought while he unconsciously ran his fingers through my hair.
I tried to snuggle with him, but he gave me an apologetic look and asked me to have Layla pick me up. He claimed to have a meeting he couldn’t miss, but there was something that looked a lot like guilt in his eyes.
Half an hour later, we were sitting on the couch waiting for the telltale honk of a horn that signaled Layla’s arrival. Owen was once again stroking my hair and I allowed my eyes to drift shut, the weird vibes I was getting momentarily forgotten.
“You know that I love you, right?”
Innocent enough words on their own, but his tone made a cold tendril of dread run up my spine. I swallowed hard around the lump in my throat and nodded, waiting for him to continue.
“I’m too old for this, princess.”
That wasn’t something I could just nod through. I pulled away, whimpering in protest when he tried to hang on. He reluctantly released me and I stood from the couch, putting some much-needed distance between us.
“Too old for what exactly?”
“For sneaking around like this. It was fun when I was your age, but I want to have you every night. I want more than this.”
“You’re breaking up with me?” I asked, horrified at the mere thought. I felt angry tears welling up in my eyes and I looked away so he couldn’t see them.
“What? No!” Owen denied. I heard heavy footsteps before I felt his hands on my shoulders. “That’s not what I meant.”
“What did you mean?”
He scrubbed at his jaw for a moment before sighing hard. “We’re going to get caught, Charlie. You know it’s only a matter of time.”
“I don’t care,” I said stubbornly. “There’s nothing anyone could say that would make me stop loving you and I-I don’t care if we get caught! I want to be with you.”
“So do it,” he said with an edge to his voice that made me nervous. He lightly shook my shoulders as he added, “Be with me. Completely.”
“I will. Just tell me what to do.”
A beat passed before his mouth opened, but before a syllable could pass through his lips, the loud blare of a horn in the driveway interrupted the moment. I didn’t want to keep Layla waiting—she was already irritated at me for waking her up at eight in the morning—so I gave a pleading look to Owen.
“Just say the words. Tell me you need me as much as I need you.”
“Of course I need you. I love you.”
“I’d give up everything for you,” he said, his eyes closing in irritation when the horn honked again. “Everything, princess.”
“So would I.”
“You promise?”
I nodded mutely and he leaned down to kiss my forehead. I was frowning with confusion as he spun me around and led me to the door, stepping out on the porch and holding up a single finger to keep Layla from beeping again.
“What are we—”
“Listen, sweetheart. I just need you to sit tight for a little while, okay? I need you to trust me.”
“I trust you,” I confirmed with a nod, watching as he walked back inside to retrieve my forgotten overnight back from the couch. “But I don’t understand.”
“You will soon. I love you, Charlotte.”
“I love you, too.”
He smiled before kissing me once more—then stepped back and closed the front door on me. I was frozen with confusion for a moment before I heard Layla’s voice calling from the car.
“Let’s roll, chick!”
I numbly walked down the sidewalk, trying in vain to figure out what the hell just happened and failing spectacularly. Something was going on with Owen and I had a funny feeling it was related to the supposed meeting he had today—but none of the puzzle pieces would click to
gether in my head.
Even after I got home and was in the shower, I still couldn’t figure it out. I dried myself off, got dressed, and went downstairs for lunch—ignoring the strange look my mom gave me. I forced a smile, hoping that it’d keep her from asking questions. It worked to an extent, though I could see in her eyes that she was desperate to know why I seemed so upset.
I had no idea what was coming next for me and Owen, but what I never expected was to hear the doorbell ring later that evening followed by the sound of my dad excitedly greeting Owen.
“What are you doing here? Come in, come in!” Dad said as he stepped back.
I was watching from down the hall, a weird feeling coiling up in the pit of my stomach. Owen took a hesitant step inside, shrugging my Dad’s hand off when he reached out to guide him down the hall.
“What’s up?” he asked when he finally sensed Owen’s solemn mood.
“We need to talk.”
“All right,” Dad drawled with a short laugh. “Want to grab a beer and go into the study?”
“No. Landon, we—we need to talk here.”
Finally, the true severity seemed to hit Dad. Mom had come out of the kitchen and was watching the exchange through narrowed eyes, but they darted to me lurking in the shadows and widened.
“Is something wrong?”
“I’m in love with your daughter.”
10
Holy shit. His words from earlier echoed in my head. ‘I’d give up everything for you.’
It made sense now. He didn’t want to sneak around. He didn’t want us to get caught. But we would be together—even if it meant giving up his friendship with my father.
There was a long, tense silence that was only broken when Dad started laughing. Owen’s jaw clenched and after only a few seconds of the awful sound, he stopped and slowly turned to Mom, who was still staring at me.
Only now she looked sad—like she had known it was coming and was too late to stop it. Dad’s eyes followed hers and widened when they landed on me. Whatever he saw on my face must have made him realize that Owen wasn’t joking.