Rescue Breathing

by Zoe Norman

  I push at his head as I continue to laugh. “Ahh, Owen, stop. Too much.”

  He props himself up on his elbows between my thighs and looks up at me. His face at first is confused, likely because of my odd giggling, but once it subsides, his gaze returns to sexy and wanting. After climbing off the bed, he pulls his boxers down, kicking them to the side. He settles himself back on the bed, onto his knees between my legs, and leans back on his heels. Then he takes himself into his hand, large, looming, and hard as granite.

  Owen has my rapt attention as he slowly strokes himself from root to tip. He pants ever so quietly as he pleasures himself, preparing for what I know will be a lovemaking session I won't soon forget. Without taking his eyes off mine, he leans to his bedside table, pulls open the drawer, and reaches in, taking out a condom. I watch as he opens the packet and throws the wrapper to the floor. He begins to roll the condom over his considerable length, giving a low grunt as his hand strokes down, sheathing him in latex.

  Watching me intently, he grabs my ankles and pulls me towards him.

  “Your teasing and flirting and your goddamn moan make me crazy. I'm nearly desperate for you.”

  He takes himself in his hand and strokes the head of his dick against me, coating himself with my moisture.

  Owen positions himself at my opening and slowly pushes himself into me. My head presses back into the mattress and I exhale as he fills me. I can tell he is holding himself back from plunging into me. He slides himself in bit by bit, letting me feel every large inch of him.

  “Look at me,” he orders.

  I open my eyes and look into his. I am surprised to find emotion there, and it takes my breath away. Once he is seated fully inside me, he bends down and kisses me passionately. I wrap my legs around him, pulling him to me.

  He starts to slowly rock into me, in and out, in and out. I can feel every inch of him, and it feels so good I could cry. Initially, he is aggressive in his kiss, a man losing control from lust, and it's overwhelming that he could feel this way toward me. But as our kiss lasts and we find a rhythm, I run my fingers into his hair and the aggression is replaced by passion. I lift my hips to match his thrusts, and his tongue is synchronized with his hips as he licks into my mouth. He pulls back, panting, staring into my eyes, and I can't turn away, blink, or…anything. He shifts, just barely, but just enough to change the angle of his thrusts to hit my g-spot with every stroke.

  My eyes flutter closed and I moan on a breath, “Baby...yes…”

  His hand comes up and strokes my hair off my face, and I blink my eyes open. He's just...watching me with glazed eyes. I tighten my legs around his waist and arch my head back as he rubs against my g-spot again and again.

  “Amazing,” he grunts out. “You are fucking amazing.” He pushes upward on his hands and moves back onto his knees before grabbing my ankles, pushing my legs against my chest, and resting my ankles on his shoulders. The change in position surprises me, and I involuntarily grip him tighter. He groans, wrapping his arms around my knees, holding me still as he pounds into me.

  “Ahhhh fuck…” he groans.

  The sound of our skin slapping against each other reverberates off the walls. He turns his head to the side and kisses the inside of my ankles. He abruptly slows the pace in an effort to extend the pleasure. Grabbing my ankles again, he holds my legs apart, spreading me wide to him. I've never been with a man who had so much skill making love, who was so attuned to the positions that will bring me the most pleasure. Every move he makes changes the feel of him inside me, and I am swooning. He thrusts slowly, deeply, and brings his thumb down to rub small circles on my clit. My body bucks at the touch.

  “Oh God, Owen. Yes...Just like that…” I pant.

  “You like that?” he asks, a smile on his lips, his voice breathy.

  “Ahhh…yes. I love it,” I moan.

  He continues to slowly slide in and out of me, rubbing my clit until it's almost unbearable. I place my hand on the hand that is rubbing me, stopping him. He looks at me like I've lost my mind, and I smile up at him reassuringly. I prop myself up, letting my legs drop to the mattress and grab his face. I pull him down to me and kiss him, licking his lips and into his mouth.

  I murmur against him, “I want to be on top, Owen. Let me ride you.”

  His response is a low, guttural groan, and he gently pulls out, making me wince at the sudden shift from too full to too empty. I grab his arm and push him toward the headboard, urging him to sit back against it. He is easy to maneuver, as if reading my mind, although that doesn't surprise me since we seem to have some sort of sexual karma.

  I surprise him by grabbing one of the posts on his bed and standing over him. He runs a hand up my legs and I shiver, feeling unbelievably in control and sinfully sexy right now. His one hand continues its trail up and down my leg while his other squeezes the head of his cock. He leans forward and plants a kiss on my swollen pussy, sending a shiver through my body. We're both coated with a sheen of sweat, and his skin glistens in the candlelight. I slowly lower myself, first to a squatting position, and then to my knees positioned over his waiting cock. He nestles the head between my lips and pushes himself in. My head falls back as I sink farther down. “Oh God, baby, that's so good…so deep.”

  When I have fully taken him, he moans. “Fuuuck.”

  I wrap my arms around his neck, he cradles my ass with his massive hands and we start to move together. We connect. We find a rhythm with our bodies, and every inch of my skin is buzzing. I look down between us and watch him move in and out of me. I have one hand on the headboard next to his head and the other on his shoulder to hold myself steady and give me the leverage I need to rise and fall on him. I look up at him and he's studying me intently. I close my eyes, my mouth gaping as my breathing increases.

  “Look at me, Olivia,” he commands. “I want to watch your face when you come. Because...you are… Shit. You're going to come so fucking hard,” he growls.

  He grabs hold of my hips and thrusts up into me harder and faster. I press my forehead against his as I concentrate on finding my release. My hands move and find their place around his neck, pulling him into my chest. He licks and kisses my neck, nibbling just under my ear, driving me crazy. I am suddenly building quickly and I clench around him as I purposely move myself toward my climax.

  “Eyes on me,” he bites out. “I did this to you. Me. See how good it can be?”

  My eyes are glued to him, and I let out a silent cry as I come undone.

  “That's it, baby. Give it to me, Olivia. Jesus, you're so fucking beautiful.”

  His hands slide up my body, grabbing my breasts, and he leans forward, nipping at my nipples. Panting, I stare at him, reeling from the sensations his body just gifted me. I push aside his hair, slick with sweat, out of his eyes. He is slowly pushing into me still, and I realize he has yet to come.

  I give him a smirk and wrapped a hand around the back of his neck. Licking the shell of his ear, I whisper, “Your turn. I want you to come in me, Owen.”

  He grunts as his pace quickens.

  “I know you want this, want to come inside me, have been daydreaming about it while you fight fires, haven't you, Owen? Daydreaming about what it would be like to be inside me again, tasting me, fucking me. I've been thinking about it since you left my room the last time. I even touched myself thinking about it. Mmmm, baby, you feel so good, so big, so hard…”

  His breathing is ragged and I love the impact my words have on him. I sound like a porn star. It's not my usual behavior, but he makes me feel so wanton, so sexy, so necessary that I can't help myself.

  “Good God, woman!” he says through gritted teeth. “You're a dirty girl when you want to be and I fucking love it…”

  I give a surprised yelp as he pushes me forward, laying me flat on my back as he thrusts harder and faster into me.

  “I can't stop…thinking about you. I want you so fucking bad…” he admits. He lays his body over mine, pulling me into him, env
eloping me in his arms. His hips lift and plunge into me again and again. It's intense and amazing.

  I slip my arms around his back and rake my nails down his muscled shoulders. He bites my shoulder, marking me. I can feel him growing inside me—larger, harder.

  “Liv…fuck. Olivia...I'm there. I'm fucking there.” Once he looks up at me, he falls apart with a loud shout and a deep thrust.

  Owen shudders and then allows his full weight to fall on top of me. I run my hands up and down his back. After a beat, he reaches down to grab the base of the condom and pulls out, rolling off of me onto his back, his arm flopping over his eyes. I look over at him, both of us breathless. I straighten my legs and sigh, content, sated. He takes his arm off his eyes and tilts his head to see me. I smile at him and reach up, stretching and slightly arching off the bed like a cat.

  “Well…that was...”

  “If you say anything less than 'un-fucking-believable,' I'm going to have to ask you to leave,” he says as he rolls toward me onto his side.

  I exhale with a laugh. “Better than un-fucking-believable.”

  “Better, huh? Good,” he says with a wink. His face goes slightly serious and he asks, “Are you always this much fun? I mean...we had fun in Seattle, but this was...well…” He smiles a megawatt smile at me, and I shrug, grinning coyly.

  “Can I tell you something?” he inquires, his eyes serious, the mood changing.

  I roll to my side to face him. His hair has fallen back into his eyes, and without thinking, I reach forward and brush it out of the way. I realize in that moment how innate my desire to be tender with him really is.

  “Sure, Owen. You can tell me anything.”

  “I meant what I said just now. I haven't stopped thinking about you. Not since leaving Seattle. I'm really not that great with words, but…I don't know.” He pauses, seemingly unsure of what to say next. “There's something special about you, Olivia. You're so different than the other women I've met. I mean…” My face is betraying my surprise at his words—my pleasant surprise. He flops back on the bed, seemingly embarrassed. “This has been the best first date I've ever had…” He trails off, staring up at the ceiling.

  I'm stunned silent, but my insides are doing something that resembles the Macarena and an Olympic gymnastics routine. He's been thinking about me? There's something special about me? I can tell that this kind of admission is not the norm for him. I reach a hand out and take his, linking our fingers together.

  “Owen, look at me.” He turns his head to face me, looking mildly panicked. “I haven't stopped thinking about you either. When I got home and you didn't call, I thought maybe you didn't feel the same way, and I was...disappointed. And when you called”—I scoot myself closer to him so my front is pressed against his side, my breasts pushing into his arm—“I was very, very happy.”

  I press a kiss to his shoulder. “And I'm glad this was your best first date, because it was mine too, and even more”—I reach up and press a light kiss to his lips—“I hope against hope you're different from every other man I've ever met, because I'd really like to see where we can take this.” I lean forward and give him another chaste but lingering kiss.

  He wraps his arm under me and pulls me to him, kissing my temple. “I'd like that too.” He looks into my eyes before brushing my hair behind my ear. “Stay with me tonight.” His eyes are wide with panic as he says this, and I can tell that he's asking despite having some…reservations? “I'm not ready to let you go.”

  But he asked…and God, I was hoping he would ask. Part of my fantasy has been of sleeping in his strong arms, warm and protected. I can tell that this is a big step for him, so I hatch a plan to make it a little less nerve-racking. I grin at him and jump up, bouncing to the other end of the bed. After climbing under the sheets, I pull them up to my chin. Then I crook my finger at him, beckoning him toward me.

  “If I stay, don't make me sleep all alone over here.”

  He sits up with a smile and walks to the bathroom to dispose of the condom. He comes back to the bed and crawls over to me, shaking his head and laughing as he climbs under the covers.

  “Have I mentioned how adorable you are?” he wonders aloud as he pulls me to him.

  “You might have, but I don't mind you telling me again,” I reply. He runs his hands through my hair and pulls me closer, giving me a very tender kiss.

  He looks up at the clock on the nightstand, my eyes following his gaze. “It's one o'clock in the morning. Are you tired?” he asks.

  I assess his question. Am I tired? Surprisingly no. Likely it's all the energy from the amazing sex.

  “Not really,” I reply.

  “Good, because I was planning on pulling an all-nighter with you,” he says, grinning from ear to ear in that sexy way he does.

  I place a hand on his chest, running my fingers through his chest hair. “I think I can keep up with you,” I reply.

  “Ohhh, I just love a challenge,” he announces as he pulls the sheets up over our heads and starts to kiss down my body, readying me for round two.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Owen

  Screaming. All I hear are the blood-curdling, desperate screams of children. The screams are familiar, yet it causes my stomach to retch every time I hear them. One could never grow accustomed to such a horrible sound. I run. I run fast towards the screams, determined to find the source this time. They're here. I know it. I can hear them. I think I find the crying children only to have them calling to me from a different direction. I turn, running towards the sound as fast as my legs can carry me. I need to stop the screaming. They need me.

  It's hot. It's so damn hot and I can barely breathe. My lungs constrict. My airways close.

  “I'll find you!” I yell. “Can't breathe… Can't stop.” I thrash about and start awake with a cool hand on my shoulder.

  “Owen? Owen, wake up. You're having a nightmare,” Olivia calls to me gently, pushing on my shoulder to rouse me from my bad dream.

  My eyes open wide to see Olivia staring at me with scared eyes. “Did I save them?” I ask her, still groggy. I run my hands up my face and through my sweat-drenched hair, trying to focus.

  “Who were you trying to save, Owen?” her voice squeaks.

  I shake my head and sit upright in my bed, the bed sheet clinging to my damp body as my thoughts start to form. Another nightmare. Another night my subconscious won't let me forgive myself. I regularly wake up in a cold sweat, fighting the demons that wreak havoc on my dreams. They get worse when I'm stressed, and my internal struggle over my relationship with Olivia has been weighing heavily on my mind.

  “I don't know.” With downcast eyes, I look at Olivia and then quickly go to my bathroom, shutting the door hard behind me and effectively shutting Olivia out too. I splash cool water over my face, trying to wash the memories away but it never works. I lean my hands on the countertop, looking at myself in the mirror.

  “Get it together, Maxwell. Goddamn nightmares. Shit!” I pat my face with a towel and toss it forcefully on the counter before returning to bed.

  Olivia watches me emerge from the bathroom, the bed sheet clutched tightly in her hand and covering her breasts. She eyes me warily, waiting for me to talk. To say something…anything.

  “I'm fine,” I snap as I crawl back into bed. I lie on my side, turning my back towards her.

  “Do you want to talk about it? Let me help you,” she says gently, her hand sliding down my arm to comfort me.

  “I don't need your help and I don't want to talk about it. I told you I'm fine.”

  “Okay...” she whispers timidly. “But if you ev—”

  “I said I'm fine. Drop it, Olivia,” I spit out harshly. This is my battle. I'll handle it like I've always handled it. Tomorrow is another day, and with it comes the hope that the demons will stay at bay.

  * * *

  The next morning, I slip out of bed, leaving Olivia to continue to sleep. She's beautiful. No furrowed brow, not a worry in the world as
she sleeps peacefully. Peacefully. I almost forget what that feels like. After Olivia witnessed the effects of my nightmares firsthand last night, I'm embarrassed by both the nightmare and my reaction to her. I wasn't fair to her. I realize that now.

  I need to go for a run and clear my head and think. I slip on my snug boxer briefs, a pair of black running shorts, a tight white t-shirt and navy half-zip. I sneak out of my room, careful not to wake her. After I get my trainers on and ready myself for my run, I peel open a banana and down some orange juice straight from the carton. Before I leave, I send Olivia a text.

  Morning, beautiful. Went for a run.

  Make yourself at home.

  Be back in an hour with breakfast. XO

  I grab my key and quietly walk out the door, locking it behind me. As I clear the first landing, Claire exits her apartment.

  “Morning, Claire,” I call out.

  “I saw your friend last night, Owen,” Claire croons like it's some big secret. “She's a lucky girl, that one.”

  “Ah. Yes. Well, she's pretty special,” I confirm as I continue down the stairs. I'm in no mood to talk.

  “Special, eh? Hmmm. Will she be coming around a lot? Do I need to get some earplugs?” she cackles.

  “If you didn't hear anything last night, chances are you're safe.” I wink at her. Claire's eyes grow wide and her cheeks turn a flushed shade of pink. I open the door to the street. “Have a good day, Claire.”

  I jog slowly for a couple of blocks to get my muscles warmed up and stop to stretch in front of my favorite coffee shop. I see a couple lovingly holding hands across the table, their gazes soft and their mannerisms screaming to the world that they're a couple in love. I start to think of Olivia still sleeping in my bed, and the events of last night roll through my mind like a movie. The way she laughed as we danced, how she smelled when I held her close, and her wide eyes when she saw my hard cock ready for her. Everything about Olivia is addictive—from the way she carries herself to the way she tastes to the way she screams my name.