Chapter 17
Kara - Present
I’m hot.
My body flushed, my stomach like a furnace having been lit, warming me from the inside. I slowly peel open my eyes and let the light wash over my senses. I scan the bedroom, letting the memories of yesterday slowly seep their way back in.
The assignment. The dinner. The explosion.
Owen.
I feel his presence, his body warm and pressed into my back, his arm wrapped over my waist, holding me to him. He’s the reason for me being so warm.
A flutter of his fingers runs over the scars on my back, and I tense.
“Why are you cuddling me?” I turn my head and he pulls his arm off me, flopping onto his back.
“You were whimpering in your sleep.”
“So, you gave me a cuddle?” I raise my eyebrow, and he just stares at me. His head cocks to the side, his lips pressed in a tight line as his jaw clenches.
“Well, it helped. You stopped whimpering and thrashing about in your sleep. What were you dreaming about?”
“I erm…” I stop. What use will telling Owen this story be? It won’t help the situation, and it won’t change the past. All it’ll do is make me annoyed and him feel guilty.
“I don’t remember,” I lie.
Sitting up, I pull the cover off my body and stand quickly before he can grip me in those mossy green eyes and I open my mouth to say all the things I really want to say, but won’t.
“Want a tea?”
Owen doesn’t answer. Instead, he raises his eyebrow, opens his mouth to say something before stopping himself, then saying, “Sure. I’m going to jump in the shower. We need to be at the police station in an hour.”
“I’ll remember to be the damsel in distress. We need to corroborate our story.”
He rubs his brow as if to ward off an impending headache.
“We can’t tell them about the assassination attempt,” he finally says.
“Good, we are on the same page. Because if we told them that, we’d have to explain my involvement, and well-paying the police is tiresome.”
“Good to know,” he replies, deadpan.
“Don’t judge me.”
“I’m not.” His eyes are wide.
“You are. I can see it in your goddamn eyes. You’ve done nothing but judge me since yesterday evening.”
The door handle hits the wall, bouncing back to close, leaving Owen in the bedroom. In the kitchen, I angrily press the button on the kettle, almost breaking the damn thing.
I take calming breaths whilst it boils like my own blood. My emotions are so extreme with him, I’m giving myself whiplash.
A hand rests on my shoulder, and I’m spun round quickly. Owen steps into my space, my body caged in the counter behind me.
I could get out of it easily, but I’m rendered frozen, completely captured by the green hue of his eyes.
I’m not Kara anymore.
No, I’m Lucy.
Held captive by everything that I had grown to love and hate.
“I am not judging you,” he says firmly, his body crowding mine. I step back, my bum hitting the counter. “All I want is to know the beautiful woman in front of me.”
I push his chest, anger overwhelming me, but he doesn’t move. He’s a wall of solid muscle.
“You lost that right the day you left me in that hell hole while you saved your own arse, leaving me to fucking rot.”
“That’s what you think?” he asks exasperated, shaking his head as sadness washes over him. “You think I had a choice? You don’t think that every second of every day, I feared for what happened to you? Do you honestly think so fucking little of me?”
“What the fuck am I supposed to think?” I snap. “You left me, and I had no one. NO ONE!”
I shout, my emotion and temper overtaking my usual calm, surprising even myself.
“You left me in that fucking place where I would continue to hide in that godforsaken cupboard. But you know what, Owen, you weren’t there to stop him from getting in. Once you were gone, there was nothing or no one to stop him.”
My heart pummels behind my chest as the emotions and memories of our childhood, our shitty fucking childhood, batter me like wave after wave of an angry sea.
“What did he do to you?” His voice is so deep, so deadly, that it’s practically a growl on his lips.
I shake my head.
“Cookie,” he says softly. “I’m going insane with the thoughts that are constantly going through my head.
I’m not gonna lie, Luce, I’m thinking up some pretty dark shit.
And that’s after I wiped the blood of a friend from me yesterday, holding her whilst she died.
But all I can think about is how I left you, how I let you down, and that fucking monster did something. Please tell me.”
I shake my head again. Tears try to fill my eyes, but I’m a stubborn motherfucker and I clear my throat, along with the emotion. Pushing it back into the box where it’s supposed to live.
Chaotic and messy but locked tightly behind a tight door.
I need to stop this.
The heat radiates off his bare torso, his legs still clad in the grey sweatpants I dug out for him yesterday. His arms remain braced on either side of me, pectorals flexing with the tension caging me in.
My gaze drifts to the faint dusting of hair on his chest, I peek up at him through my lashes.
My eyes meet his lips, and he runs a tongue over them, moistening them.
I suppress a groan.
My heart rate picks up, and my legs are like jelly as his body leans against mine, his heat, his strength, his anger, his confusion.
So much between us, so much history, so much hurt, so much goddamn sexual tension. I do the one thing that I know I shouldn’t do, but I equally know is the one thing that will stop him from continuing to push this subject.
It’s as if he senses the shift. Our eyes meet, and we become magnets.
Our lips clash in the messiest and desperate of kisses, his tongue invading me as he possesses my mouth with his.
This is no tender kiss of long-lost friends and lovers reunited. It’s not a sensitive, searching, learning, roaming kiss. No, this is a I must fucking have you, and have you now I fucking will, kiss.
And I am here for it.
I groan in response and push against his chest. His hands grab my cheeks roughly as we continue to devour each other.
My heart smashes against my chest, my body responding to him in ways that it never has before. My nipples harden, and my clit throbs painfully between my legs.
He growls and drops his hand, grabbing my arse and lifting me up on the counter roughly. The bottom of my bare thighs hit the cold surface, making me gasp at the contact. He breaks the kiss and looks deep into my eyes, his fingers touching my lips lightly.
My legs open and wrap around his waist. I pull his finger into my mouth, my tongue running the length of it before sucking and nipping the tip lightly. His mossy green eyes dilating with the lust that pulses through us.
Hissing, he pulls it out before slamming his mouth back onto mine. And we are back in that tantalising, chaotic, dominating kiss.
His hands roam all over my body, and mine do the same as we greedily feel at each other.
He lifts my top off and runs his hands up to cup my bare breasts, and I arch into his touch on a moan.
I grab his arse, pulling him closer, his hard cock rubbing gloriously against my barely covered pussy.
The friction causes a whimper to escape. His grin triumphant against my mouth.
I’m about to spontaneously combust, Jesus Christ.
This is all kinds of wrong but feels so unbelievably right.
I’m shameless in rubbing against him, and his hands pull my arse closer to the edge of the counter, giving me easier access to his hard length where I continue to grind against him.
Desperate for the friction, desperate for the release.
Our breaths come in heated gasps. Our mouths continue to collide. Tongues and teeth crash together.
This whole encounter is messy.
My head is messy.
Everything is messy.
He breaks the kiss and steps out from between my legs, swiftly pulling at the waist band of my shorts, making his intention clear.
I grab hold of his shoulders for leverage as I lift and let him rip the clothes from my body. The cold counter is freezing, but the difference in temperature just builds the tantalising sensations.
My clit throbs, desperate to be touched. Liquid pools between my legs, and I’m heaving gulps of air as Owen presses a thumb against my core.
Fucking hell.
I drop my head, my eyes rolling back as the sensation fills me. His finger runs between my folds, coming back drenched. He has the biggest grin on his face before he takes his middle finger and sucks it.
“So fucking sweet.” He places it in my mouth, and I can taste the remnants of myself.
Oh God.
That had to be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
He pulls his finger out my mouth and pushes it straight into my pussy, and I’m back panting like a wonton mess.
I grab his hair and pull his face back to my mouth where I greedily kiss him whilst he adds another finger, and I shamelessly fuck them.
Rocking my hips back and forth, I’m desperate for the release I’m climbing towards. He swallows my moans as he curls his fingers and grazes the delicious spot inside. His other hand squeezes my breast.
His finger and thumb take my erect nipple between them and pinches, causing me to cry out at the sensation.
“Take it, Cookie. Fucking ride them.” I’m climbing and climbing, and I’m getting closer to the edge, desperate for the release.
Desperate for my explosion.
“I don’t want your fucking fingers. I want your cock,” I growl, my hands greedily going for his trousers and pulling them down. His rock-hard length slapping against his stomach as it’s freed.
“Fucking slut.” He grabs a fistful of my hair and yanks. “You want to ride my cock, cookie? You want me to fucking bend you over this counter and fuck you until your cunt explodes?”
His filthy mouth makes me wilder.
“Yes,” I gasp as I scratch his back.
He grabs me, pulling me off the counter and spinning me around. His hand goes to the back of my neck and holds me down.
The sensation of the counter makes me gasp. I barely have any time to prepare myself as he pummels into me, straight to the hilt.
He pulls out, so there is nothing but the tip, and slams back into me, causing me to cry out. His size causes a bite of pain.
But the pleasure.
Oh, the pleasure is intense.
He holds me down so I can’t move as he impales me repeatedly. His cock slams into me, over and over again, and I feel it all the way into my ovaries and stomach.
“Fucking take it, Cookie.”
I scream out as my orgasm hits me, an explosion of pure ecstasy causing my whole body to shake.
“Oh fuck, you’ve got a greedy little cunt. Take it.”
“I am fucking taking it, you arsehole,” I say between intense moans. My reward is a harsh slap on my arse, the pain making the ripple of my orgasm last longer, my cry louder.
“FUCK!” Owen bellows.
His thrusts becoming harder, faster, all rhythm and control gone.
He explodes inside me, his own release rippling through him in a wave of pleasure, his body twitching as he comes.
He falls onto me.
My chest is pushed into the cold counter, which is now covered in light sweat from my body. Our breathing is rapid as we both gulp down air, coming down from the intense high.
“What the fuck was that?” Owen asks, taking another huge gulp. His heart is jack hammering into my back. “I’ve seen diversion tactics before, Lucy, but Jesus Christ, that was another fucking level.”
“I. Can’t. Speak.” And I can’t. My whole body is shaking, and if it wasn’t for Owen holding me on the counter, I think I’d be a puddle on the floor.
He slowly stands up, pulling off of me. The come from us both begins to run down my leg. My pussy is still throbbing, and my walls are used and abused in the best possible way.
Owen's right….
What the fuck was that?