12. Chapter 12
Chapter 12
Mel
I ’m curled up on the sofa, my legs tucked beneath me, wearing an old pair of leggings and the hoodie. The TV is on, but I’m not paying attention to it. My phone sits on the cushion beside me, mocking me with the texts I sent earlier.
What was I thinking? The flirting, the teasing—we were supposed to take it slow. But then, we’ve been dancing around each other for two weeks now since our heart-to-heart. Maybe that is enough slow burn. My therapist said to move forward whenever I feel it’s right and it does feel right.
The sound of keys jingling in the lock makes my heart jump, and I sit up a little straighter, my pulse racing as the door swings open. Owen steps inside, his hair slightly mussed from the wind, his bag slung over one shoulder.
“Hey,” he says, his voice warm and familiar as he kicks off his shoes and hangs up his coat.
“Hey,” I reply, shifting slightly on the sofa.
He drops his bag by the door, his eyes finding me almost instantly. The way he looks at me—like I’m the only thing that matters—sends a flutter of warmth through my chest.
“Comfy?” he teases, nodding toward my outfit.
“Always,” I reply, but my voice wavers just slightly. I glance down at my hands, twisting them nervously in my lap. “Look, about earlier... I might’ve gone a little overboard.”
Owen raises an eyebrow, stepping closer. “Overboard?”
“With the texts,” I clarify, my cheeks heating. “I mean, it was fun, but... I don’t know if I’m ready for anything more than... you know.” I immediately feel guilty for being such a tease… or a coward, not sure which is worse in this moment.
He drops onto the sofa beside me, his eyes soft as they meet mine. “What are you ready for, Mel?”
His question is simple, but it makes my throat tighten. He’s not pushing, not judging—just waiting.
“A cuddle?” I suggest hesitantly, glancing up at him through my lashes.
The corner of his mouth lifts in a small smile. “A cuddle, huh? I think I can manage that.”
Before I can overthink it, he reaches for me, his hands warm and steady as he pulls me into his lap. I settle against him, my head resting on his chest, his arms wrapping around me like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
The tension in my shoulders eases as I sink into him, his steady heartbeat grounding me in a way I didn’t know I needed.
“And maybe...” I begin, my voice quieter now, “a kiss?”
I tilt my head up, my eyes locking onto his. His expression softens, his lips quirking into the faintest smile. “Maybe?” he teases gently.
“Definitely,” I correct, my voice firmer this time.
He leans down slowly, his breath brushing against my skin, and when his lips meet mine, it’s like everything else fades away.
The kiss starts soft, tentative, but it quickly deepens, his hands sliding up to cradle my face as I press closer to him. There’s nothing rushed about it—just the steady, electric pull between us, like we’ve both been holding back for far too long.
When we finally pull back, I can’t help the small smile that tugs at my lips. I so needed this.
“So,” he murmurs, his voice low and a little rough, “was that worth the build-up?”
“Shut up,” I whisper, laughing softly as I nudge his shoulder. “You know what I would really like? Some neck kisses.”
“You kissing my neck or me kissing your neck,” he teases.
“You kissing my neck,” I reply and my tummy flips in anticipation.
He grins at me, all white teeth and mischief, before he leans in. His lips press to my jaw, warm and gentle as he starts to move. The kisses are soft at first, just a teasing brush of his mouth against my skin. But then he changes the angle slightly, tilting his head so that he can kiss lower.
His lips trail down the column of my throat and I shiver in response. It’s such a simple thing, but it feels so good. He places another kiss just below the hollow of my throat and I let out a tiny whimper.
Encouraged by my reaction, he continues his slow exploration. His lips leave a trail of heat along my neck as he moves up and down. The sensation is deliciously torturous, making me squirm in my seat.
I reach out and grab his hand, needing something to hold onto. His fingers twine with mine and I squeeze tight as his lips find a particularly sensitive spot. A low moan escapes from deep within me and I can feel the desire pooling between my thighs.
Not wanting to be left out, I turn towards him and press my lips against his neck. He gives a low growl of approval and tightens his grip on my hand.
I start to kiss him in earnest now, trailing little nips and bites along the sensitive skin of his neck. He groans softly in response and I feel a surge of satisfaction at being able to elicit such a reaction from him.
But then he pulls away slightly, breaking our connection.
My brow furrows in confusion but before I can say anything, his hand comes up to cradle the back of my head. And then he’s pulling me towards him.
For a moment I’m disorientated but then our mouths meet with bruising force and everything else fades away. All that matters now is this—the way our tongues slide together in perfect synchrony, the way his lips are firm and demanding against mine.
We kiss like that for what feels like an eternity, lost in each other. Eventually, though, the need for air becomes too great and we break apart.
I’m a little breathless as I lean back in my seat and he does the same. We’re both grinning like fools as we sit there, gazing at each other.
“I could do with a bit more,” I giggle.
His eyes darken with desire at my words and he nods. As soon as I give him permission to touch me again, he starts to place slow, deliberate kisses along my neck.
He concentrates on one area in particular—just below my ear—and every time his lips brush over that spot a shiver of pleasure runs through me.
I can hear his breathing becoming heavier now so I know he must be getting just as turned on as me. The thought is incredibly arousing and I find myself growing wetter by the second.
He continues to kiss me with single-minded focus until he finally stops. But before I can complain about the loss of contact his mouth finds mine once more and we’re kissing passionately.
This time he’s not holding back at all; one hand is cupping my face while the other slips under my top to palm one breast through my bra. His touch is almost unbearably gentle but there’s a hint of roughness there too, which I find incredibly arousing.
I moan into his mouth and my whole body feels like it’s on fire. I’m so turned on right now that it’s becoming difficult to think straight.
He breaks the kiss suddenly and pulls back, leaving me breathless. His eyes are dark with lust as he looks at me and there’s a hint of desperation in his voice when he speaks.
“You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he says, his voice rough. “I need to be inside you.”
I don’t reply; instead, I pull down my leggings, leaving me in just my kickers and the hoodie he thought was so sexy.
My skin is covered in goosebumps but not from the cold—it’s from the heat of his gaze as he takes in my nearly naked form. There’s hunger in his eyes, mixed with something else; something that looks suspiciously like love.
But before I can analyse it further, he reaches for me, pulling my body flush against his own. The contact is electrifying and I gasp at the sensation.
His hands are everywhere—one is tangled in my hair while the other is cupping my ass, pulling me even closer against him. Our bodies are pressed together so tightly that I can feel every ridge and contour of him through our clothes.
And then he leans forward slightly, and pushes my hoodie up and off me. The next thing I know his lips have found one breast and he’s sucking gently through the fabric of my bra.
The sensation is indescribable; a mixture of pleasure and pain that makes me want to both laugh and cry at the same time. Everything feels magnified somehow—every touch, every kiss—until all I can focus on is him and how good he makes me feel.
He continues to suckle at one breast while his hand finds its way between us. I gasp as he cups me through my underwear, applying just the right amount of pressure.
I’m so turned on now that it wouldn’t take much to push me over the edge. But I want this to last; I want to enjoy every single moment and make him feel as good as he’s making me feel.
So, I break away from him and take a step back. He looks at me with a confused expression but before he can say anything I reach down and start to undo his jeans.
He watches me silently as I lower his zip and then slip my hand inside. His breath hitches in his throat when he feels my touch and for a moment he closes his eyes, lost in sensation.
I wrap my fingers around his cock, marvelling at how hard he is. But before I can do much more than that, he grabs my wrist and pulls me towards him again.
“As much as I’d love you to finish what you started,” he says with a low growl, “I need to be inside you first.”
And then his lips are on mine once more, silencing any protests or objections. We kiss like there’s no tomorrow; all tongues and teeth until finally we’re both out of breath.
When we part again our gazes meet; there’s something raw and vulnerable in his eyes that takes my breath away. It’s a look that says more than words ever could—that he wants me, all of me—body and soul.
“Are you sure about this?” he asks quietly. “Because this time there is no going back.”
I nod without hesitation; it feels like the most natural thing in the world.
“Just promise me one thing,” I reply softly. “That if this doesn’t work out…we’ll still be friends afterwards.”
He doesn’t answer directly but I can see from the way he’s looking at me that he feels the same. And in that moment I know, without a doubt, that this is right—that we belong together.
“Always,” he says at last, his voice filled with an emotion I can’t quite identify. “I promise.”
And then his mouth is on mine and everything else fades away.
We make out like teenagers until I can’t wait any longer. I fumble with his jeans and Owen helps me to get them off. With his jeans, his boxers also come off and he sits in front of me in all his naked gloriousness once he’s stripped off his T-shirt. His dick is hard and pre-cum is oozing from his tip. The fact that I have this effect on him makes me feel powerful.
I slide to the floor in front of him and push his legs apart. I reach out and wrap my hand around his dick. Owen's eyes are on me, unwavering. I lower my lips until I can slide them over the sensitive head. Owen groans deeply as his cock disappears into my mouth, then returns to view in a slick sheen of saliva.
I continue to look into his eyes, and take my time with each stroke. I make sure the head is wet when I bring it out, so my fingers can slide easily over it.
He groans, his hand reaching for my hair, then he pauses, giving me a questioning look. I keep my gaze locked on his face as I take his hand and whisper, “You can tug. I like it.” Returning my focus to his cock, my lips stretch wide around his girth as I take him in as deep as possible. The muscles in my jaw ache, but I ignore the slight discomfort.
My tongue circles the sensitive tip before flicking against the ridge underneath. Owen's grip tightens on my hair and a low growl escapes his throat.
I draw back slightly, my tongue continuing its work until he begins thrusting into my mouth. With each movement forward, he hits the back of my throat and I suppress the reflex to gag.
Lust burns through me like wildfire as Owen uses me for his pleasure. My hands grip desperately at his thighs for support as he fucks my face with abandon. With every other guy I would hate this but Owen is, despite his lust, as gentle as they come and me being able to give him this, fills me with heat and love.
I reluctantly remove my mouth from Owen's cock with a wet pop, eliciting a groan of disappointment from him. His hand releases its grip on my hair and we share a moment of eye contact filled with unspoken longing.
I grin as I push him gently onto his back on the sofa. Crawling up his body, I straddle him, positioning myself over his throbbing cock.
Grabbing hold of his shaft, I guide him slowly into my throbbing pussy. The feeling of fullness as he stretches me open is exquisite and I take a moment to adjust before rocking back and forth against him.
My hands rest on either side of Owen's head as our bodies move together in perfect harmony. Every thrust pushes him deeper inside me until it feels like he is buried in the very core of my being.
The air is thick with our shared desire as we fuck with reckless abandon. The sound of our skin slapping together mingles with moans and sighs that fill every available space.
I lean forward until our lips meet, capturing the moans that escape from each other's mouths. The taste of him is intoxicating—a heady mix of desire and something uniquely Owen.
My nails dig into his shoulders as he continues to pound into me with an urgency born from two weeks of pent-up need. Each thrust pushes me closer to the edge and I can feel the first ripples of orgasm building deep within.
The pressure inside me builds until it becomes almost unbearable, then with one final push over the edge, everything comes crashing down. Stars explode behind my closed eyelids as waves of pleasure wash over me, leaving nothing but pure bliss in their wake.
I hear Owen's name on my lips as he takes me over the edge with him. Our bodies shudder together as we ride out the aftershocks of ecstasy.
I collapse onto Owen's chest, both our bodies slick with sweat. Our breathing slowly returns to normal as we bask in the warm afterglow of our shared release.
I listen to the steady beat of his heart beneath my ear. This is where I belong, here in this moment with Owen; connected in mind, body, and soul. After all, he is my hope.