by India Kells
Dylan rubbed her eyes and closed her laptop. Sitting alone in the dimming light, she felt cold and tired. What a mess. What a terrifying, awful mess with still too many holes for her own comfort.
Straightening, Dylan looked around. Silence. The apartment was so quiet, she wondered if Owen had left after his shower. Did he go downstairs? It had been hours since she last saw him. He was a surprising kind of a man. Even before her ordeal, Henry had often nagged her about all the time she spent on a case, her face glued to her computer. But not Owen. When she was deep into the Web, he stepped back and waited for her to resurface. What a strange man.
Dylan padded across the apartment, until she discovered him asleep, fully dressed on his bed. She knew SEALs were very light sleepers, so she stayed immobile for a moment, admiring him. He appeared so peaceful, the first time she really saw him looking so young, carefree. However, even in sleep, the man exuded an aura of power and danger. Her hands tingled of touching his thighs filling his jeans so well, as well as his mighty fine ass. Her eyes followed one of his hands, detailing his scars before following the lines to his tanned forearms with a light sprinkle of blond hair.
Unable to stay away any longer, she climbed onto the bed. The movement of the mattress woke him up instantly, but he relaxed again when he saw her face.
“Are you all right?” His voice was gruff with sleep, his bedroom eyes on her. He must have barely slept in the days she was unconscious.
Dylan crawled like a cat, straddling his thighs. When he tried to push himself up on his elbows, she pushed him back down. Questions in his eyes, Owen silently complied to her demand. For now, at least.
She lowered her body over his, her lips feather light on his temple, making a sensuous trail down to his ear. It was impossible to resist tracing the soft shell with her tongue, delighted to have him shiver when she exhaled over the moistened skin. Dylan followed the tender trail of skin from his ear to his neck, carefully hidden behind his beard and tickling hair.
Owen groaned and turned his head to give her better access. However, when his hands went to her hips, she pushed them away. At her second denial, he tensed, and before he could break the mood, she backtracked to his ear.
“Please, allow me. Let me do this the way I want to.”
His jaw tightened an instant before relaxing again, silently allowing her to continue. There would be some explaining to do, but she hoped to distract him enough to make him forget her small command.
Her lips continued to glide, nip, and kiss their way to his chest. He swallowed and took a deeper breath. Dylan pushed herself up, now her knees firmly on each side of his hips. Harnessing her inner seductress was one of the hardest thing she had to do since life kicked her in the ass. Anxiety was silently watching just under her skin, marks, and scars, waiting for Owen to prove her right. To prove that she wasn’t worth desire anymore. That a man couldn’t be aroused by her new form, by who Dylan was now as a woman. Screw my dark demon, for tonight at least, she thought. She would prove it wrong, and she already had her first clue; Owen’s erection, thick and hard, encased in his jeans, but firmly nestled between her legs.
Pressing the heat against him, she undulated lightly, easily flaming her own flame, even if her goal was not about her own pleasure. Owen licked his lips and pushed his hips up. She didn’t say a word, and instead started to unbutton his shirt from the bottom up, her fingers unashamedly touching the warm skin underneath. The tempo was excruciatingly slow, but she enjoyed herself too much to speed things up.
When his chest and abdomen laid offered to her, she started all over again, but this time with her mouth. He tasted like sea and sunlight. Like after a day at the beach, as the sun set on the still warm sand. The muscles under the golden skin rippled as he endured her ministrations. She could rub herself over him, forever having the enticing smell of his skin on hers. Giving one last bite at his collarbone, Dylan licked her way to his ripped abdomen until she reached the boundary of his pants. A wicked smile on her face, she looked at his face for the first time.
Owen was breathing hard now, and had lifted himself up on his elbow. The intensity etched on his face fueled her imagination, but it was his restraint, his steely, bloody, unbreakable restraint that spurred her own. She wanted him undone, she wanted him unable to resist her, unable to resist pleasure. Plain and simple.
Nipping at the quivering skin just above the waistband, her fingers worked at unfastening his fly. Grabbing both sides, Dylan pulled his pants down until he was free and all hers. Taking her time, she discarded every piece of clothing off him, leaving him at her mercy.
His magnificent body was tense as a bow, awaiting her next move. Both his hands were fisted on the comforter, preventing him from reaching for her, still listening to her command.
This newfound power over him, over a man whose every cell was honed to be a warrior, almost made her dizzy.
Dylan retreated a little, both hands on his knees. Were men as sensitive as women in the same areas? Slowly, her hands caressed his thigh dusted with coarse blond hair. Just as she was about to reach his throbbing member, she felt him slightly purchasing her touch. Deflecting, Dylan glided back to his knees. She traced the same path twice more before replacing her fingers with her mouth. Nipping at the inside of his knee, she rubbed her cheek against his inner thigh, letting her open mouth kiss and lick the thin and sensitive flesh.
Her eyes reverted often to Owen’s face, analyzing his reactions, trying to detect where to insist and where to retreat. When she reached the junction of his thighs, she let her hands trace the warm skin up, until she could finally grasp him firmly.
The sound coming from him, the groan of frustration mixed with pleasure, forced her to squeeze her legs together, desperate to alleviate her own pleasure, but knowing it wasn’t her turn to come undone.
When she started moving her hand up and down, his member getting harder under her ministrations, the precum leaking from him lubricated her hand, allowing her to squeeze a little harder, and move a little faster. It was easy to see flashbacks of how he masturbated in front of her back in his office, to guess the pressure and intensity that would render him mad.
Still leaning on his elbows, Owen was restless, moving his hips against her hand, his face a mask of focused agony, a snarl almost twisting his tempting mouth. It’s only when her free hand cupped his sack that he grinded his teeth, his breath exploding in very inventive curses, his head falling back.
“Am I getting to you, Sorenson?”
His exclamation was both a laugher and a moan. “You don’t have much time left, so if you have more wicked tricks in your naughty head of yours, now would be the time.”
“Naughty? Let’s see if I can develop on this theme, shall we?”
Twisting to lean on her hip, Dylan switched hands, pumping him a few times before taking him into her mouth. The entire body of the warrior tensed and bowed, and she heard a ripping sound, probably from the comforter. She sucked and licked softly at first, barely taking the tip into her mouth. Owen tried to move, inciting her to take him deeper, but she counteracted his every move. Not a man to be denied, Owen bent his knees and plated his feet on the bed to give him more leverage.
And in a single movement, she had the unsuspecting man exactly where she wanted him. Distracting him, she pushed herself forward, indulging by taking him deep, and sucking harder, while her fingers, still wet from his fluid, traced a direct line between his ball and his anus.
Her warrior, strongly pulsing in her mouth, became still as a statue. Dylan was waiting for any sign, any reaction that would incite her to stop. Her fingers continued circling the tight rosette, and if possible, he grew even larger in her mouth.
Eyes still locked with his, she resumed her movements and gently, slowly breached him with a single finger. Maintaining the tempo with her mouth, she pushed her finger farther and farther, until she felt his prostate against her fingertip.
His groan turned to a guttural howl, his body shaking. D
ylan pursued his pleasure, attacking him on all fronts, blocking any escape he may have, any doubt he may experience. Watching him in ecstasy filled her own fantasy.
As he came, his hand fisted and tangled into her dark mane. His hips pumped as she swallowed all of him, her finger still relentless as he was deaf and blind to this world.
Spent, his body relaxed inch by inch, muscle by muscle, and Dylan softened her touch, retreating until her hands resumed a soothing caress on his thighs, her head now pillowed on his hip.
Unmoving, she only listened to his labored breath, heat radiating from his body like the sun, a thin sheet of sweat bathing his skin. His hold on her hair had lessened, and now, only gentle fingers traced idle patterns on her scalp, twirling her long curling locks around his fingers.
As Owen closed his eyes and breathed deeply, the only word she heard from him was her name.
Chapter 34
It took a long time for his body to stop quivering and his breathing to return to normal. What didn’t lessen was the hold he had on her. It was strange to be fully clothed, her cheek on Owen’s thigh, as he lay there, catching his breath.
“Why?”
It took Dylan a moment to realize he had spoken. It was so low, she thought it was her heart tripping, or the rumble of his stomach. It’s when his hand stopped its caressing motion and tangled in the wealth of her brown hair, that she realized that Owen had asked a question.
“Is there supposed to be a reason?”
The fist tightened a little bit more. It wasn’t painful, but it forced her to tilt her head to look at him. His blue eyes were bright, almost electric, and his forehead still glistened with sweat. He didn’t say a thing, waiting for her, knowing that there was something more.
Sliding herself up so she could lie by his side, her hand rubbed his furry cheek. It seemed that she couldn’t get enough of touching him, smelling him, tasting him.
“We haven’t had time to discuss what happened since you went back to Amaryllis. We’re running, hiding, evading, and worse of all, not talking. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a talker, but there are things we need to set up straight. And we have done many things but that recently.”
Owen nodded, looking serious, but she saw the distinctive Sorenson mischievous twinkle in his eyes. One she was beginning to recognize.
“So, you having me in your mouth is a way of discussing?”
Dylan bit her lip and pinched his bicep. “Are you complaining, Sorenson?”
Owen smiled, and for her it was a sight to behold. It softened his features, making him even more handsome in her eyes. That smile reminded her how contained, in control of himself he was, even with her. Also, she understood that it was an automatic behavior for him, one that cracked more and more in her presence.
“Never. But you know I also very much love when you come apart in my arms. Every time I wanted that, you pushed me away. Why?”
Dylan licked her lips, hoping he would understand her point of view. “With everything that happened, with your past and mine, I wanted to prove that I wasn’t using you.”
He blinked twice. “Using me?”
The right words were always difficult to come. “Me, being so … broken. You, being … you.”
This wasn’t going well at all. Her heart skipped when Owen let go of his hold to cover himself up and sit up against the headboard. The distance he put between them stung.
“Okay, you need to try that again. Let me start … Using me?”
Dylan pushed herself to her knees. “I don’t know how to do this. Look at you! You’re a knight in shining armor! Every single cell of you. And the cherry on top of my freaking sundae, you could make a woman come only with your voice.”
Owen angled his head, an eyebrow arching in amusement. “Well, there is no proof of that yet …”
It was more and more difficult to refrain from babbling, her thoughts in shambles. “What I mean is that I don’t want you to think that because of your honor, your word to help me, and the talent you developed when working for Amaryllis, that I would use you to get better. Mentally. Physically.”
And the enigmatic mask was back on, silently looking at her. The only way was to continue.
“You matter to me. You became important to me, beyond being knee-deep in problems. You’re a good guy and I don’t care about what you did. Well, that’s not true, I care. What I mean to say is that I admire how you sacrificed parts of yourself to keep your father away and your family together. I think you’re amazing. Every experience forged you into someone you should be proud of … and now I’m rambling.”
Dylan took a breath and rubbed her eyes, trying to gather her thoughts, making them more coherent. To no avail did it seem.
“I think you’re amazing, too.”
Dylan looked up, unable to find a word to say.
“Your own experiences and hardships forged you into an incredible woman, Dylan. I won’t lie to you, if I put my mind into it, I could get hard to any woman. It’s a trick I learned at Maison Amaryllis. But to do so also means I have to hide, separate myself from how I feel and what I want. It’s in my past. I don’t ever want to go there anymore. Not now that I know you.”
With a gentle pull from Owen, she was back in his arms, straddling his lap, her head a few inches above his. He tucked a fallen lock of her hair behind her ear and let his finger linger on the skin of her neck.
“You’re not using me, Dylan. Experience made me an expert at being used and using people. And knowing when it is the case. You’re attracted to me, and I’m desperate for you. There is not a single part of you that doesn’t make me hard, that doesn’t want me to make you scream in pleasure.”
She leaned toward him, her lips hovered over his, their breath mingling. Her arms came to his shoulders as his hands naturally slipped under her clothes to touch her skin. When she shivered, it was only from anticipation this time. He would never agree, but she started to believe in the Sorenson touch. His miracle touch.
Owen parted his lips, tracing hers with his tongue. “I want you again. I want to be inside you again, feel your skin against mine. Getting sweaty and dirty, use all of my tricks on you as you used some of yours on me.”
Breathless, Dylan put her forehead against him. “I don’t have any tricks, Owen. Or if I had, they aren’t tricks for you. Only a few fantasies of when I was lonely.”
He smiled again. “I don’t care about tricks, babe. What I care about is you. You matter to me. A lot.”
Stunned, Dylan couldn’t reply as he took her lips, stripping her of all control. She was already on fire from what she had done to him, just his voice, the intensity emanating from him, set her ablaze.
Owen impatiently pushed her shirt up and over her head, and as she was swinging it away, he had her bra unfastened and his lips all over her breasts. Half-naked, it was the first time, she didn’t care about the way she looked. She only wanted more. She wanted more of the way he devoured her, every single inch of damaged skin, of fiery lust inside of her.
Arching back, she pushed her breasts out as an invitation; Owen didn’t hesitate, and he took a nipple between his teeth and cupped her other breast with his hand.
Fumbling, Dylan worked on her pants, but their position made it difficult to maneuver. Before she could switch places, Owen rolled them both over. On the bottom, she lifted her hips, helping him pull her pants down as she had done to him not so long ago. But this time, it was his turn to take his sweet time, making his way up, kissing her ankle, lingering to all the sensitive spots in-between her marks. She didn’t know how he did it, but he found spots, near her rib cage, and down her lower belly that made her sigh and moan. Inching forward, he pushed her knees apart.
“You don’t know how hard it is not to take you right now, plunge into you like a wild animal when I see how wet you are.” Without breaking eye contact, his fingers traced her wet labia, up and down. Dylan’s hips lifted up, trying to get him to intensify the touch.
“You want more.
The same way I want more. Even after the mind-blowing orgasm you gave me, I still crave for you. Hell, I’m still hard. What do you think this means, babe?”
Dylan opened and closed her mouth, unable to find the words. Unable to speak when he was hovering over her like this, as if planning a very complex, very delicate attack.
“That bad, eh? For me too. But this time, I’m not the one who’s gonna lose control.” His fingers parted her folds and started a slow, lazy circle around her clit. Time sped up and stopped. When she was about to go mad, he plunged one, then two fingers inside of her, deep and down. The sensation was unique, as if he was now inside of her. Unsettled, she looked down to make sure she hadn’t missed his move. Owen’s attention wasn’t between her legs, but on her face. His blue eyes sparkled, intense and analyzing.
The friction built inside of her, but it’s when he shifted his hand, turning his fingers up and curling them against her inner core that something intensified. Now her hips jumped away from the mattress and her eyes closed, overwhelmed by sensations. But Owen kept the touch controlled, too light for her to deflagrate, but too much to bear. At least for long.