Chapter 18
Bee
Owen watched me as we lay face-to-face, and I came back to my body, still panting. I tingled with sensations I’d never felt. I had to be glowing like a beacon from the intensity of it all. He studied me in a way that had my heart pounding even harder, my body wanting more. As intense and truly once-in-a-lifetime as that orgasm was, I needed more closeness, more intimacy. Any space between us felt like too much.
“I want to squish myself so hard against you that we become one big blob.” I settled for biting his shoulder to get out the surprising aggression.
I needed him in me and over me and pressing me down into the mattress until I forgot my own name. Until I forgot a world existed outside this cabin.
He chuckled, breathless, tense.
“I’m still in you, technically.” His voice was gravelly deep.
“Not enough.” I wrapped my arms around his sturdy middle and squeezed. He slowly removed his fingers from me. Still holding my gaze, he brought them to his mouth and sucked. His eyes rolled back, and he moaned.
“You’re right. Not enough,” he said.
He sat back, half sitting up to look down at me. I must have made quite the sight. Bikini top pushed up, bottoms pushed down, sweaty skin, and goofy satisfied grin. I tugged at him, trying to move the heft of him over me, my hands futilely grasping and releasing as he remained unmoving.
He chuckled again, and I growled.
“I’ll crush you,” he said, laughing as he brushed kisses up and down my neck, gently toying with my nipples.
“And it’ll be the best way to go.” I sprawled out my arms and legs. “I’m ready. Flatten me.”
He laughed harder, mirth in his eyes as he looked down at me. Maybe I didn’t make a huge impact in town, but I made Owen Campbell laugh freely, and that was starting to hold more value than anything else.
With a few quick movements, he divested me of the rest of my string bikini.
“You know, I bet if we looked, there might be condoms in here,” I said, biting my lip. “Not to assume.” I rocked my hips until I brushed against his solid iron erection, currently bruising my thigh.
He held my gaze for a searching beat.
“I want to. Do you?” I asked breathlessly, scared.
It was one thing to get off on his hand, but my insecurities mounted a defense the longer he didn’t ask for anything in return. Was this just another way of him assuaging his guilt by always taking care of me, or …
He pushed up onto his knees and did that incredibly sexy thing men do where they grabbed the hem of their shirt and lifted it over their head from the back. Seriously, was that taught in some sexy man class? Did he practice in the mirror so that every muscle in his chiseled chest and abdomen flexed just the right way? He tossed his shirt to the side and looked at me.
His gaze went darker, yet he licked his lips. He undid his jeans and pushed them just low enough to pull out his sizable?—
“Whoa,” I said, forcing myself to meet his gaze but only having luck fifty percent of the time.
Thirty—seventy.
“I want to,” he growled.
He was gorgeous and thick. As he palmed himself, a slow stroke up and down, a little bead of moisture danced on his tip. I watched it, my mouth actually watering as he ran his thumb over it to smooth it all around. I tightened where I had only just found relief. Now, my body felt achingly empty, clenching to be filled.
“Fuck, Bee, you gotta stop looking at me like that, or I’m going to come already,” he swore.
With a smooth motion, he managed to get off the bed without tripping on his jeans, even though they were only hanging on by the perfect roundness of his booty. I would have fallen three times already, no doubt.
I felt my breasts jiggle with the shaking of the mattress. He noticed too, because his eyes fixated on them before he shook his head, seemingly forcing himself to stay on task. He went to the drawers in the kitchen, shuffled things around, and came back with an unopened condom. He presented it to me like a magic trick revealed.
“I really love this place,” I said. I threw back my head and kicked my feet with glee.
He grinned, teeth gripping the edge of the foil as he tore it open, his other hand still working himself. God bless a man who can multitask. He got distracted momentarily when the shaking of the bed once again caused my breasts to jiggle.
Had I known that I had this much power with these two little ladies, we probably could have avoided this whole mess, to begin with. I could have simply flashed him, stunning him, then shoved him back into the tram and on his merry way.
And the feelings that fake scenario caused in me almost derailed everything. I wanted to be here, right here, right now. I didn’t even think about NYNB. I didn’t know when it happened, but I was so incredibly thankful for every moment that led to this. I was fearful for this to end instead of just existing in it.
Owen hovered above me on his elbows, inches from my face. A look of worry furrowed his brow. “Hey, are you okay?”
I leaned up to kiss him and ran my hands along his broad back to bring him closer. “Yes. I was just thinking about how glad I am that the tram got stuck,” I admitted.
His worry melted into something gentle. He swallowed. “Me too. Who would have thought one of the worst nights of my life would lead to one of the best?”
I sighed contentedly even as my body thrummed with new building tension. I scratched my fingernails down his incredible back to find his perfectly sculpted backside. “Aw, when did you take off your pants? I missed it. Boo.”
He nuzzled his nose up my neck and inhaled into my hair. “Maybe you should have stayed focused.”
“Shame on me.” I let out a shaky breath as I reached lower to find him sheathed.
His eyes rolled back as I carefully stroked him, squeezing his base, trying to get a sense of how this would work. He was so big and thick.
“We’ll go slow,” he said, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
I nodded as he hovered above me. I spread my legs wide to accommodate him. I would need to start yoga after all if this became a regular occurrence.
Please let this become a regular occurrence.
“Bee,” he said, gently prodding at my entrance, his body trembling with self-control. “You’re thinking again.”
“Ugh. Can’t have that.” Since when was I such a thinker? Not when I was in this glorious moment.
I closed my eyes, inhaled his clean, masculine scent, and ran my fingertips along his shoulders and quivering arm muscles. I replayed his words, his sentiments that he wanted me in his life. This wouldn’t be just one night.
I had to trust his words at face value. I had no reason not to when he’d only been truthful and gentle with me.
I rocked my hips up and let my thoughts go.
Then there were only sensations. Hot breaths panted. Cautious, slow increments spread me, filling me to a point I’d never been so full before.
Then.
Deep thrusts. Grinding hips. Creaking wooden joints of the bed. The crackling of the fire. Heat dampening skin. Gasps and pants, moans and caresses. A rough, deep voice encouraging.
“Yeah. Good. You’re doing so good.”
Hands tugging at my hair. Hard muscles pressed against my breasts. Thighs spread wider by strong hands. Everything in glimpses, all elements of a greater machine guiding me to another precipice.
I pushed back and up, gripped and scratched, hot and sticky. Body tightening, needing, needing more than it’s ever needed. Shaking. Trembling.
“Need a minute,” he said, his forehead dropping to my shoulder. “Just need to be still. You’re so hot and tight. And I—just be still.”
I clenched and pulled him deeper.
He growled my name in warning. I never was good at listening. I wanted him completely undone, unrestrained.
Mine .
“Take what you need, Owen.” I brushed my thumb along his temple. Kissed his damp skin. Gave him my body and heart on a golden platter, along with my snacks. “I trust you.”
He dropped his head to kiss me, and his hips started back up. He took exactly what he needed.
Eyes hooded with blissed-out pleasure, muscles firing and contracting. He pumped into me carefully but with less obvious restraint. He made me feel powerful and beautiful. I braced my arms above my head, holding myself from being pounded into the headboard. I took it all as he rocked over and over. He was so big, and I was so full and stretched, and my body was used, and … it was everything .
The muscles in his neck and shoulders were red and tensed. He groaned with much gusto as he came.
He shuddered when it was all over, a blissed-out grin blurring his usual hard features. I couldn’t help myself, I giggled.
He panted, looking down at me when he collapsed onto his side. “Are you laughing at me?”
“No.” I covered my mouth. Giddy and laughing.
“It really feels like you are.”
“I’m laughing with you,” I explained.
When I turned to read him, his mouth flattened into a line, but his eyes had a mischievous gleam. Nobody could actually be cranky after what we just experienced.
“You’ll laugh about this later,” I quoted him mockingly, as he had told me when I made myself into a giant corndog in the snowsuit.
“Why are you laughing?” he asked, breathless.
“Post-orgasm adrenaline. I dunno. Also, your coming sounds were unexpected.”
“I would never mock your orgasm sounds.” He carefully removed the condom and tied it off before tossing it into the wastebasket. Another man skill that impressed me maybe more than it should.
“I don’t make sounds.” He scooted so we were both propped on our elbows, face-to-face and smiling. “I’m like a quiet little church mouse.”
He made a series of high-pitched moans until I covered his mouth with both hands.
“Okay, so we are both incredibly sexy when we are lost in the moment, and we can’t even help it,” I said.
He grabbed my hands to pull off his mouth and kissed my palms. “You are incredibly sexy,” he said seriously.
“You have no idea,” I said back, no longer teasing.
“I really meant to make you come again before I did.” He rubbed up my arm softly.
“Oh no, you only made me come once. Poor me,” I said sarcastically.
“I guess we’ll just have to go again.”
“We’ve got nothing but time.” I grinned and leaned forward to kiss him.
“And that box of condoms I found was unopened.”
“Good thing I packed all those panties.”
“And still no pants …”