I’ve never experienced rejection, but it hurts like hell. I meant what I said.
I can heal from anything else, but I won’t be able to heal from him. Owen isn’t the kind of man someone puts a band-aid on and moves on from.
Something wraps around my wrist and spins me around. I don’t have time to ask what he wants when Owen slams his lips down on mine, kissing me until I’m on my tiptoes. It takes me a minute to figure out what’s going on, but then I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him back. I kiss him within an inch of my life.
I don’t hesitate. There isn’t anxiety or fear stopping me from sliding my tongue in his mouth as his hand wraps around the tendrils of my hair to pull me closer. Rain falls into our mouths, sliding between our lips to make it slick.
“Say it again,” he says.
I swallow, confused, and wanting his lips on mine again.
I actually want him all over me, everywhere. I want his lips trailing down my neck, and I want his hands squeezing parts of me that a man hasn’t explored before.
The guy who abducted me, he always took what he wanted, but he never touched me the way I know Owen wants to. Owen holds back so he doesn’t hurt me or send me into a mental breakdown, but honestly, if I don’t feel what it is like for someone to touch me with love, I think it’s a disservice.
I deserve what it’s like to make love to someone I’m in love with.
“I love you, Owen.”
A huff of breath leaves his nose, and he grins from the side of his lips. “I love you too, Jolie. I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”
“How about you get me out of the cold rain? And we can continue this conversation inside where it is dry and warm.”
“I’ll do whatever the woman who loves me wants to do.”
I’m blushing, not that he can tell because I’m so cold and the rain is coming down too hard for him to see. He wraps an arm around my shoulders, and this time he looks both ways before we cross the street.
There is a car outside the front doors, lights on, and windshield wipers swiping up and down. We pass it and hear arguing coming from the inside of the car. Automatic doors open to allow us in, but my focus is on the couple in the car. The woman is yelling, gesturing something with her hands, and there is a kid in the backseat, miserable.
It looks like they have money since they are comfortable in a Lexus, but they remind me a lot of my parents. Money doesn’t create happiness, moments do.
And while there are a series of moments that are telling me not to be happy right now because of what is going on with Heaven, I can’t help but to feel happy. It’s wrong, considering Owen’s best friend is hanging on for dear life, and Owen is a wreck inside.
At the end of the day, we are all wrecks.
Something always happens.
Good and bad moments that form how we feel every other second and in this second, I’m experiencing something I never thought I’d ever have.
Owen loves me.
I fought for my life. I ran. I survived. I was lost, looking for a way to figure out how to live again.
And I found my way to love.
Twenty
Owen
I swipe the card over the door handle and wait for it to turn green. A few people have stared at us funny since we are dripping with water, but they can look all they want. Jolie loves me. She actually loves me. Somehow, she has figured out a way to love me through everything she’s going through.
Jolie’s strength is unprecedented, and not even I stand a chance against the unparallel winds she carries inside her.
The lock clicks, and I push the door open with my hip. The room is dark but once Jolie takes a step forward, the lights automatically come on, and she gasps when she sees the luxurious room.
It’s the best they had, but if they had a penthouse suite, I would have gotten that. It’s Trinidad, not the Hamptons.
“Oh, wow,” she whispers as she runs to the floor-to-ceiling windows to look out at the ocean. “I never get tired of a view like this, not when mine consisted of walls for so long. I know we live in a cliff, which is the best view ever, but still.”
“Yeah, the view is something else.” I wince when I realize how fucking cheesy that sounds, but it’s true. Her shirt clings to her body, showing the full shape she’s gained over the last few weeks. She still has a few more pounds to go, but she’s gained it quick, and I’m so damn proud of her.
And hard.
Really fucking hard, but that isn’t important. What is important is the woman staring out the window.
A woman who says she’s in love with me.
She’s important.
Jolie tucks her hand in her back pockets and peers over her shoulder, then she spins around to face me. “So,” she says, rocking on her heels.
“So.” We stare at each other, and it’s awkward, kind of, but thrilling all at the same time. I feel like a teenage boy again, not knowing what to do. “I’m … ah … I’m going to go take a shower.” I run straight into the wall and grunt when I slam against it.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I’m … it’s just a bump. That isn’t the shower,” I say dumbly.
I’ve kissed her, held her, fallen asleep next to her, and for some reason I’m a bumbling idiot right now. Maybe it’s because I know she loves me, and we are alone in a hotel room, drenched from head to toe.
Then there was that heated kiss in the rain.
And it’s all I can feel right now, the slide of her mouth against mine, the velvet lush pillow against my lips as she sighs down my throat. No matter how much she tries to fill me up, I’ll always be hungry for her. I’ll always crave her. She’s woken up this starving monster that hasn’t fed in two decades.
And I want to eat until we are both satisfied.
Then I want to do it again.
And again.
I rub my forehead and step to the left so I’m in front of the bathroom door. I shuck off my shirt and toss it on the ground. I turn the knob and steal one last look at the object of my intoxication.
She’s whiskey, neat. Even chilled, frozen to the core, it does nothing to lessen to the burn gliding over my skin.
We share one last look before I disappear into the bathroom and let out a long exhale. Reaching into the shower, I turn the knob and the hot water spews from the head immediately. My jeans hit the floor in a wet plop, and I step out of them, along with my shoes and socks. Damn it, my blood is on fire for her. “Fuck.” I grip the edge of the sink and hang my head, squeezing the cheap counter with—almost—everything ounce of strength I have.
Tilting my chin up, I evaluate my reflection in the mirror and wonder what kind of man I’ve become. Do I deserve her? What have I truly done to prove myself? If Annabeth were to see me now, she wouldn’t be proud of me, not with how I lost it, and now Heaven has a shard of glass through his chest.
He might die because of my inability to protect the ones I love.
The mirror fogs, cloaking the broken face of a man who seems to have lost himself, but only finds himself when he’s in the arms of the woman he loves.
I never thought my past would repeat itself, but here it is.
Turning away, I pull the curtain back and step inside the shower, letting the water flow over my head and down my body. I groan when the hot water pellets against my shoulders. I stand there, letting the cold wash away from my skin and down the drain. I shut my eyes and try to think about something else.
Something else that isn’t Heaven.
Something else that isn’t Jolie.
But life is a bitch, and she loves to drive me insane.
I wonder what Annabeth would say to me right now. She’d probably say something reassuring, supportive, and kind. I still wonder why she believed in me because I don’t understand. I have no idea how I earned her heart or how Jolie gave hers to me. I don’t get it.
I want to understand, but I don’t think I ever will have the answers I desperately seek.
Trembling hands roam around my waist, and my eyes pop open thinking maybe someone has snuck into our room, knocked Jolie out, and for some reason is about to kill me.
I hate the way my mind works sometimes.
“Owen.”
Jolie’s voice has every muscle tensing. I stare at the far wall and debate a few things. Either I’m dreaming and life decided to throw me a bone, or I’m dreaming and life is about to figure out how to be a bitch.
Or.
Jolie is actually here. Her hands are on me. Her breasts are pushed against my back.
Which means she’s naked.
I move my feet to the side to help me turn around and when I see her, her hands roam to my chest. Her hair is wet from the water and the droplets sensually dripping down her neck make me thirsty. My eyes stay locked on her face. She’s gorgeous, she’s nervous, and she’s mine. “Jolie, what are you doing?” It takes all I have not to look at her body. Even knowing she’s naked, my cock has sprung to life, and I want her more than my next breath, but maybe she’s in here for another reason. If it’s just to be close, I’ll love that too. “There’s no pressure, Jolie.”
“Do you want me, Owen?”
“Do I…” I say in disbelief and lean my forehead against her. “Do I want you? Look down, babe. You’ll see how much I want you.” I keep my eyes closed to stop myself from admiring her.
Her hand wraps around my cock and squeezes.
I gasp and snap my eyes open, meeting her lust-filled green eyes. “We don’t,” I groan when she jerks me again. “We don’t have to. There’s no pressure, babe. None. Fuck,” I toss my head back when she quickens her pace and tightens her fist. “Jolie.”
“Look at me, please. You never look at me,” she begs, and I tilt my chin to my chest, debating … fucking debating if I should do this. If I do, how do I stop myself from touching her?
“I don’t…” I swallow when my sack pulls to my body, and the base of my spine tingles as my orgasm threatens. “I don’t look not because I don’t want to, but because I want to respect you. I never want you…” My eyes roll to the back of my head when her hand cups my sack. “I never want you to feel pressured.”
“Thank you for that, but I want you, Owen. I want to know what it’s like.”
I fall forward and brace my arms on either side of her head and hover my lips above hers. “What, what’s like?” My voice breaks as I hold my orgasm at bay. It’s been so long since someone else has touched me in the way she is.
“To have sex with someone I love.” Jolie presses a kiss to the side of my neck, against my pulsating jugular vein, and the feathered touch sends me over the edge.
“Jolie,” I moan, flexing my hips in rhythm with every spurt of come that leaves me. I paint her belly, and she continues to stroke me slowly as I come down from my orgasm.
“Owen.” My name on her lips has me grabbing the sides of her face and slamming my mouth against her in a heated, uncoordinated kiss. It’s messy. Teeth clank together, and her hand lets go of my still very hard cock. Her arms wrap around my waist, and my hands slide down her shoulders, and I steal a quick squeeze of her tits, breaking the kiss with how good they feel.
She whimpers in return, and I reach around her to turn off the water. If we are doing this, I’m not going to have sex with her for the first time in the damn shower. Shower sex is not what people make it out to be. It’s awkward, feet slip, accidents happen,
“What are you doing?” she asks, wondering why I’m shutting off the water. “I thought—”
“You thought right. I’m taking you to bed, babe.” I lift her into my arms, and this time I do look my fill of her body. Her breasts are perfection, and the nipples are tightened to peaks, red like maraschino cherries. Her stomach is flat, and there is a brown tuft of hair above her pussy. She looks so different than the first time I saw her. Her skin glows, her hair is shiny, and her body has filled out to where her hips aren’t showing and pointing out of her sides.
The air is cold as it wraps around our bodies, but it doesn’t ease the wildfire burning through my veins for her. Laying her on the bed, her arms stretch above her head, and I straighten to full height. I skim the pads of my fingers down her neck, to her chest, and trace the quarter-size nipples. Her stomach rises and falls with every inhale her lungs take. Her ribs show, and I take the time to trace them too.
I dip down and swirl my finger around her navel, then hold my breath as I decide to travel lower. My throat is dry as I brush through her soft hair leading to her pussy. She lifts her hips and whimpers. I jerk my hand away, thinking I took it too far when she grabs my hand again and shoves it between her legs.
“Don’t stop. You’re touch feels so good,” she says.
“You sure?” I hate how uncertain I sound, but I don’t want her having a flashback. Maybe I’m being a little annoying about it, but I was serious when I said no pressure.
She nods, and my knees hit the edge of the bed, and my eyes linger on the art laid out on the bed. She’s a feast.
I rub her clit and watch her face for any sign of distress, and her back bows. A noise of pleasure hums in the back of her throat, and I take that as a go ahead for me to do whatever the hell I want.
I bend down and suck her nipple into my mouth while circling her swollen bundle of nerves between her legs.
“Owen! Yes, more, Owen,” she says breathlessly, spreading her legs wider.
I slip between the space she’s provided for me. I lay down, continuing to pay attention to her pink clit and with my free hand, I part her folds and growl when I see how wet she is. “Look at you, baby. You’re soaked for me.”
“I want you, Owen. Show me. Show me, please,” she says desperately.
I press a kiss against her sheath and moan when her flavor invades my mouth. It unleashes the rest of the restraint I have on myself, and I plunge my tongue in her depths. Her nectar gathers over my taste buds, and I dig my fingers into her skin, trying to pull her harder against my face. I rut my hips onto the mattress for much needed friction. My eyes lift to hers, and I see her tossing her head back, thrashing, body shaking. There are no signs of her regretting this.
“Oh god, Owen. I’m going to … I’m… I’m…” Her voice gets higher as she tries to speak, but she can’t get the words out before she’s coming, gushing sweet honey into my mouth. “Yes! Owen!” She buries her hands in my hair and tugs, riding my face so my nose slides over her clit.
When she’s done, I lift my face from her pussy and lick my lips. Her chest has a sheen of sweat across it, and she’s struggling to breathe.
“Wow,” she says.
“More?” I ask, kissing the inside of her thigh.
“Much more. Please more.” She giggles, sounding high. Her arms stretch above her head, and a happy smile stretches across her face. “Never stop.”
I kiss my way up her body, licking the bead peaking her breasts before sucking on her neck until I leave a mark. “I’ll only ever stop when you tell me to,” I say, licking the flesh of her neck. Her fingers tightens along my shoulders, and her nails scratch down my back.
“I never want you to stop loving me,” she admits on a trembling breath.
“Oh, Jolie,” I mumble, kissing across her fragile jawline. “That’s impossible.” My cock settles between her legs, and her wet heat drips along me, and I hold back from sliding inside what’s mine.
“Fuck me,” she says, strained.
“No.”
“No? Owen—”
“I’m going to make love to you, Jolie. Just love.”
“Just love.” She smiles with watery eyes, pulling my head closer so she can kiss me.
The kiss turns long and languid. I suck her lip into my mouth and let go with a soft plop. When our tongues tangle, and I can taste a bit of coffee from earlier, I moan, loving her every day taste.
She does something dirty, something unexpected, something that sends a direct jolt to my cock. A bead of pre-come leaks out of my
tip and onto her savory cunt. She sucks my tongue into her mouth, bobbing a bit like she would on my cock, driving me insane.
A snarl leaves me while we tongue fuck each other and honestly, if this is all she ever wants to do, I’m okay with it. She tilts her hips, and the head of my cock sneaks into her tight hole. I rip my mouth away and brush her hair back, staring into her flushed face. “No pressure,” I say.
“I know.” Jolie lays a hand against my face and kisses me one last time. She drifts her hands down my back and squeezes my ass, tugging me against her body, and the force makes me slide to the hilt.
I’m nine inches deep and engulfed in molten tight muscle.
“Jolie,” I groan, hiding my face in her shoulder. I need a minute because she feels like heaven. Twenty years of feeling nothing and now I feel everything. I squeeze the side of her ass, and a sound I’ve never made before leaves me. I should be embarrassed, but she’s making the same noises.
“Owen. I’m so full, I’ve never been so full.”
Good.
“You are made for me, Jolie.” I believe it. I believe every move, every action, every breath, every horrible thing led me to Jolie. I’ve been led to this moment with her. “You are made to take me.”
“Yes,” she grouses, stretching her neck until the tendons stand out.
I move, sliding out until the head of my cock is lodged in her entrance. “Yes,” I agree, the words a mumble over her mouth as I inch inside her again. My sack settles against the crease of her ass. We kiss, we scratch each other’s skin, and we move against each other in synchronized waves.
We bite, we breathe in each other’s breath, and when I decide to move faster, lightning and thunder boom outside, and rain bullets against the windows.
But nothing can drown out our passions.
“Jolie.” My fingers dig into her skin. I can’t seem to get close enough to her. I need more. I want everything from her.
I flip us over until she’s on top, so she can be in control. “My god,” I drawl when I see her stretch out, her breasts in my face, and her taut stomach flexing. Her hands land on my chest, and her face pinches with pleasure. Her lips part in an O, and our pelvises rub together. She lifts off me a bit.
Cruel Intoxication: A Dark Romance (Underground Kings Book 4) Page 16