Pumped (Mars Fitness #3)

Chapter 21

CHAPTER

TWENTY-ONE

EVEREST

It’s late when I finish brushing my teeth and return to my and Owen’s bedroom for the weekend. Ivy’s fast asleep upstairs and both sets of parents have retreated to their own rooms.

Owen’s tucked into our makeshift bed. Actually, he’s not only tucked in, he’s cordoned himself off with a wall of couch cushions.

“Seriously?” I ask, nudging the cushion closest to me.

He glares at me from under the blankets, pulled up so high that only his face is showing. “What?”

“I’m not going to attack you in the middle of the night, you know.”

The corners of his lips turn down into a little pout. “You’re a notorious cuddler. What if one of our parents barges in here in the morning and finds you wrapped around me like a damn octopus?”

I shoot him a heated look. “What makes you think I’ll be wrapped around you? Maybe you’ll be wrapped around me.”

Owen rolls his eyes. “Not possible. I don’t cuddle.”

“Mmhmm, sure you don’t.” I flick the overhead light off and the room is plunged into darkness. Using the light on my phone, I carefully shuffle my way to the couch.

“I don’t!” Owen protests.

“Whatever you say.” I crawl up the length of the bed and slide in under the covers.

There should be more than enough room for both of us to spread out on the bed, but with the chastity barrier Owen’s erected, I feel like I’m sleeping in a coffin.

I roll onto my side and throw an arm and a leg over the cushions like they’re one long body pillow. As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I can just make out Owen’s scowl.

“That’s not what that’s for.”

“I don’t know. It’s pretty comfy, if you ask me.”

“Well, I didn’t,” he grumbles.

“Oh, come on.” I poke him with my foot. “You know you like cuddling with me.”

“I most certainly do not.” He rolls away from me like a sulking child. It’s so freaking adorable.

I inch my foot in his direction, then trail my toes up his leg.

“What are you doing?” He tries to kick me away. “Our parents are upstairs.”

“They’re two floors away. And the door is closed.” I slide my hand toward him, finding the hem of his shirt and slipping underneath to tease the skin at the small of his back.

Owen gasps and reaches back to grab my wrist. “Everest,” he hisses.

“Hmm?”

A beat passes in silence and when he doesn’t reply, I try moving my hand, flattening my palm against his waist. He doesn’t stop me. He doesn’t push me away. I hook my foot around his knee and tug him toward me. Not only does he not resist me, he lets me roll him onto his back.

“We shouldn’t,” Owen breathes.

“Shouldn’t what?” I slither over the cushions separating us and directly into his space. My knee slides in between his. My hand sneaks up his stomach to his chest.

“Shouldn’t…” He gasps when I grind my erection into his hip.

“Shouldn’t what?” I ask again, whispering it against his ear this time.

“Stop.”

I freeze, holding myself stock still. Half of my body is covering Owen’s and I can feel him trembling beneath me. His breaths come in fast and shallow. His heart is hammering against my palm.

“Do you really want me to stop?” I pull back far enough to see his face.

There’s a longing shining in his eyes that takes my breath away. A longing not just for sex, but for something more, something real . I want that too.

Feelings from this afternoon flood back into me. The worry and fear when I couldn’t get a hold of him, the worst-case scenarios I tried not to dwell on. If I’d lost him… I don’t know what I would do if I lost Owen.

Suddenly, with a growl, Owen flips us over and smashes his lips against mine. The kiss is aggressive. Our tongues battle for dominance, chasing each other back and forth between his mouth and mine.

God, I love kissing Owen. How it’s like a fight each and every time. But it’s more this time, it’s primal, raw, and stripped bare, fueled by our deepest fears, unspoken but ringing loud in the darkness.

We need this, the closeness, the intimacy. We need the reassurance that we’re both still here. That nothing bad happened. That we’ve averted disaster.

Owen rolls his body against mine, chest to chest, stomach to stomach, erection to erection. It’s so good. It’s so perfect. My nipples ache and my cock pulses and fucking hell, I need him.

I shove my hands down the back of his pajama pants, sliding my fingers into the crease of his ass and pulling the two cheeks apart. He grunts and arches his back like he trying to impale himself on my fingers.

I tap a single finger against Owen’s hole and he whines directly into my mouth. I drink down the sound, such beautiful music to my ears. I tap my finger a few more times, a little harder, and Owen wrenches his mouth away from mine. He glares at me while reaching back to push my hand more firmly against his ass. “Fuck you.”

I smile as the curse winds through me like an endearment.

“You’re hungry for my hole, aren’t you? You’re such a slut for it. Can’t go a single day without getting your dick wet, can you?”

The filthy words go straight to my cock, making me throb.

“Fuck, O.”

“Tell me how much you want me.” He growls the demand directly into my ear. “How much do you want my hole?”

I squirm and my finger presses more firmly against the wrinkled entrance to his body. “A lot. I want it. I want you.”

“What are you willing to do to get it?”

I whine, pressing my face into the crook of Owen’s neck. I breathe in the rich, leathery scent on his skin, wanting to cover myself in it, to drown in it. I want to lose myself in Owen and all his gruff abrasiveness. I want to crawl inside him where I know there’s a sweet, soft center. “Anything. Everything.”

A shudder runs through Owen and his hips buck to grind his cock against mine. “Give me your hand.”

He doesn’t wait for me to draw my hand out of his pants but grabs my wrist and yanks it out for me. He opens his mouth, looking like he’s going to bite my fingers off. But when his lips close around them, there are no teeth. Just hot wet suction and a slippery sliding tongue.

“Oh fuck.”

Owen’s gaze drills into me as he sucks on my fingers. My breath catches when his tongue slides in between the digits to coat them in his spit. It feels like his mouth is on my cock, like his tongue is twirling around the head. And when he releases my fingers, I moan in protest as if he’s pulling his mouth off my dick.

He pushes my hand back down toward his ass. “Fuck me, Ev. Fuck me like you mean it.”

Jesus Christ. Owen being a control freak in real life is annoying as hell. But Owen being controlling in bed is the sexiest thing I’ve ever experienced.

I shove my hand down his shorts and made a beeline for his hole. I push one finger inside, moaning when the muscle immediately gives way. Owen moans and drops his head onto my shoulder.

“That’s it. All the way in. The second one too. That’s a good boy.”

I gasp at the praise and I cram my fingers into his ass as far as they will go. He clamps down around me when I pull out, like he’s trying to keep me inside, like he’s trying to milk cum from my fingertips.

My cock is in agony, trapped in my boxers. I tighten my arms around Owen, holding him close as I tilt my hips up, seeking any bit of friction I can find. “Please, O. Please.”

Owen slides a hand between us and pushes our shirts up so the bare skin of our chests and stomachs slides against one another. The heat of his skin is searing. My nipples burn at the contact.

Then he dips his hand into my boxers and draws me out. It’s pure relief and pure torture at the same time. His fingers are a brand on my cock, searing me through. I’m on fire, every inch of me smoldering and sizzling because of Owen’s touch.

It’s always like this with us. Hot. Scorching. Almost too much to bear. It’s like I’m dry kindling and he’s a lit match, and the second we touch, it’s a fucking inferno.

He pushes his pajama pants down, releasing himself, then takes both of us in his steady, dexterous hand. He wields the damn thing like a fucking scalpel, with precision and control. Always the exact amount of pressure at the exact right angle to drive me out of my mind with pleasure.

He rubs us together, our pre-cum mixing and easing the way. He thrusts his hips and the head of his cock bumps against the underside of my mine. My whole body tenses from the rush of electricity that races through me.

I scissor my fingers inside Owen’s body. I curl them and tug on the ring of muscle as it pulses.

“Motherfucker,” he mutters as a gush of pre-cum lands hot on my stomach. “Put in another.”

I pull my hand free so I can line up three fingers. It’s a tight fit and Owen bites on my shoulder as he bears down on the intrusion. When I’m in as far as I can go, we still, breathing hard, hovering on the brink.

“What are you waiting for, asshole? Fuck me already.” He twists his hand around the tips of both our cocks.

I bite on his ear to stifle my moan.

He bites my neck.

I finger-fuck his hole.

He grinds our dicks together so good, I see fucking stars.

We go at each other, frantic with need, racing toward the finish line, except I don’t know who the winner is supposed to be: the one who comes first or the one who hangs on for longer.

It doesn’t matter in the end, because I come a microsecond after Owen does. He slams his lips against mine and we groan into each other’s mouths as we come all over my stomach.

My fingers pump in and out of his ass while his hand flies up and down our cocks. We ride out our orgasms until we’re both sensitive and tender and totally wrung out.

Carefully, I extract my fingers from Owen’s ass and he slides to one side, head on my shoulder, one leg still hooked over mine. When we’ve caught our breath, Owen pulls his shirt off and uses it to wipe up our cum. I take mine off too and throw the extra cushions off the couch.

Then we come back together, wrapping our arms around each other, legs fitting together like puzzle pieces. Our heads are on the same pillow. Noses an inch apart.

Owen’s eyes are shut and I take the moment to soak him in. Dark lashes fan across his high cheekbones. His beard is short, but it’s enough to soften the stern vibe he gives off. His lips are pink and puffy.

My heart skips a beat. I need him. Not just to help cover the bills or to raise Ivy together. I need him. I need him. He’s gone from a fucking pain in my ass to an absolutely essential part of my every day life.

I draw Owen closer, wrapping my body around his. He stirs but doesn’t struggle to pull away. I close my eyes, taking comfort in his solid mass, his weight, his scent.

He’s my safety net, my life preserver in this scary, terrifying world. He gives me strength and courage, even when I didn’t realize I needed it. He fixes my mistakes and makes sure everything is done right.

I don’t know what these feelings mean. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, like I wouldn’t be able to live without his steady presence, so grounding and unwavering. Like a piece of me would die if I lost him.