15. Nicole
NICOLE
‘Do you know it yet?’
His beautiful blue eyes pierce into my soul as I struggle to breathe after hearing him declare his feelings toward me. He didn’t use the L word, but he didn’t need to. Words like that, him opening up to me and not guarding himself, is everything. And I don’t know how to respond.
“I think I do, Owen. I’m just scared.”
His hand snakes up to cup my cheek as the whispered words fall from my lips.
I close my eyes and nuzzle into his palm.
I love his hands on me. They make me feel safe and secure.
Being wrapped in his arms is a security I’ve never had before.
The idea of losing it again almost makes me move away, but his gentle voice makes me stay.
“Don’t be scared, Nico. This time I’ll do it right. I want to make a go of us. And not just for Lucky. I meant what I said. six years ago, I lost something irreplaceable when you walked out and I’ve never been the same since. Please tell me we can try. Please.”
His voice is filled with pain and urgency. My eyelids flutter open and I lock my gaze with his as I nod my head. The smile he gives me knocks the breath from my lungs, and I reach my fingertips up to trace the crinkles by his eyes and down to his stubbled cheek.
“Thank you for saving me, Owen.” He brings the palm of my hand to his lips and places a gentle kiss there.
“It’s my job. Saving is kind of my specialty.”
The sexy smirk I love seeing on his face makes a rare appearance and I inhale deeply as he takes a step closer to me so our bodies are touching.
His rock hard chest pressed against me making my breasts ache with want and my nipples tingle with anticipation.
The hand on my cheek slides around my neck, and when his fingers tangle in my hair, my body hums with the need for him to tug on the strands with just the right amount of pressure that sends a gush to my panties.
As his fingers tighten in my hair I let out a little mewl.
He chuckles and bends his head down so his lips are against my ear. “I haven’t lost my touch then, Nico. I can still make you purr like a kitten if I touch all the right places.”
As he speaks his other hand finds my waist and creeps around to cup my ass.
He pulls me even closer to him and I can feel his long length pressed into my stomach.
The yearning unfurling in my belly spreads down to flood my pussy with arousal as he nips at my earlobe and trails his tongue down the length of my neck.
He places gentle kisses all over my throat, kissing every place that’s covered with red marks.
I place my hands on his cheeks, urging his head up, and press my lips to his. Needing to kiss him. To taste him. I open up for him and relish the pleasure cascading through my body as his tongue strokes against mine. He tugs on my hair and I groan into his mouth.
He breaks away from our kiss but only to reassure me, “We can wait, Nico…”
I grab his shirt and ball my hands into fists, urgency flowing through my veins. “I’ve waited too long, Owen. I need you. Please.”
I’m not ashamed of the pleading tone in my voice right now because Owen Lockheart has that effect on me.
He makes me desperate and needy and I don’t care.
I want him. I want him to own me. To consume me.
To make me feel that he and I are one. To make me so deliciously sore tomorrow that all I can think about is us.
I don’t want to forget him, to forget this feeling.
I want to be close to him. Like we used to be before everything got fucked up.
“We need to lose some of these clothes then, Nico.” I nod as he smirks. He reaches for my shirt, undoes the buttons, and slides it off each shoulder until it's in a pile on the floor. My bra follows and Owen takes a deep breath as he lowers his gaze to my breasts.
“I’ve dreamt about your tits for years, Nico. Kept remembering how they reacted to me. Your nipples hardening when I took them in my mouth or rolled them between my thumb and finger. The tight little pink buds begging for me to nip at them.”
I clench my thighs together as he watches me. He hasn’t touched them yet but they’re desperate for him.
“Take your skirt and panties off, Nico.” His tone is demanding, and even though I love it when he takes control, I can’t help but challenge him.
“Why aren't you doing it?” I raise my gaze to his and love seeing his eyes darken. A shudder runs through me at the promise they hold.
“Because, Whiskey Girl, if I touch you right now this will all be over too soon. And I want to spend a long time getting reacquainted with your beautiful body again. Right now I’m getting my fill looking at you.
Next I’m going to touch you, lick you and fuck you the way I know you want me to.
And I won’t stop until you’re begging me for a break.
Now, take your clothes off and don’t make me tell you again. ”
I moan loudly, just at his words. The dominating, demanding tone of his voice is making me shameless with my desire for him.
I lower my skirt, take my underwear with it, and kick my flat pumps off to the side, leaving me standing in front of him completely naked.
Instead of embarrassment flooding through me, pure carnal lust flows through my veins as I squirm under his gaze.
“Fucking beautiful. This is new though.” He points to the four leaf clover tattooed on my hip with the number twenty two next to it. “That’s my number.” His eyes bore into mine.
“I know. I got the clover for Lucky and twenty two has always been my favourite number.” I close my eyes as his featherlight touch traces the leaves of the clover.
“Since when?” His words are whispered into my ear and I moan as his fingers slide up and brush the underside of my breast.
“Since you joined Heath Hampstead. You’ve always been my favourite. It’s always been you, Owen.”
With my eyes still shut, I wait for his next words or touch and gasp loudly as his lips close around my nipple.
My hands fly into his hair and I cry out as his fingers find my other.
He plucks and rolls it, and I moan loudly and arch my back to give him better access.
He growls, picks me up and walks me over to the bed, his mouth nipping, licking, and lapping at my skin.
He places me down and I reach up and try to stroke him through his jeans but he shakes his head. “I need to devour you first, Whiskey Girl. Whiskey…” He trails his sentence off, placing a kiss on my lips. “Wait there. Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”
Before I can complain he’s out of the room and I’m left butt naked on the bed.
“Owen?” I call out, but I hear no response.
I sit upright, and after a few more seconds, I swing my legs off the bed. As my feet hit the floor, he appears in my doorway, a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a glass of ice in the other.
“I told you not to move, Nico. Get back on the bed. Lay down and open those legs up so I can see your pretty pussy.”
I take a deep breath in as I follow his demands. This Owen, dominant and demanding, is the one I had six years ago. The one who took control and gave me endless amounts of pleasure. The one I’ve craved ever since.
Once he’s satisfied I’m where he wants me, he starts to peel the wrapper off the top of the bottle.
“This is my favourite drink, Nico, Glenfiddich Grande Couronne. I drank it the night I met you and I haven’t touched it since you left.
Marcello bought me this for my birthday and I never opened it.
It’s been downstairs for six years. Waiting.
” He pops the corked lid off the bottle, pours a splash into the glass, and the ice clanks and cracks under the alcohol.
He closes his eyes, takes a sip and moans at the taste on his tongue.
“Waiting for what?” Breathlessly, I ask the question hoping I already know the answer.
“For you. My Whiskey Girl. I couldn’t touch it because it reminded me of you, what I had, what I wanted and what I lost. But now?
I’m going to enjoy it properly.” He places the bottle on the side table and stalks toward the bed.
Placing the glass down on the nightstand, he quickly takes his t-shirt and jeans off.
I pant at the sight of him as arousal floods my pussy. He’s a work of art. A beautiful, sculpted, demigod of a man.
Lifting the glass to his lips, he takes another sip, pops an ice cube into his mouth, and grins at me as he lowers his head between my thighs and braces his arm over my stomach.
I take a deep breath and thread my fingers into his hair, anticipation building and making butterflies dance in excitement.
His tongue flattens against my pussy, and the mixture of the cold from the ice and the heat from his tongue makes me cry out in ecstasy as my body catapults off the bed.
But his arm across my stomach grounds me to the mattress, heightening the sensations even more.
“Oh my God, Owen. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
He chuckles against my clit and I shudder beneath him. Cold liquid hits the top of my mound and I look down to see him pouring his drink over me. “What…”
My thought process turns hazy as he laps at my whiskey-soaked folds. I hold on tightly to his hair and beg him not to stop. I can feel that blissful agony building inside of me. A beautiful heat rushing through my veins as I pant with need.
“Fuck, Nico, I was wrong. This is my favourite drink. You and whiskey mixed together.”
I try to speak, but I can't. All I can do is moan and mewl under his tongue as he licks, sucks, and nips at my clit.
My orgasm reaches a point of no return and I chase my release against the onslaught of his mouth.
As he takes my little bundle of nerves between his teeth and sucks, I shatter into a writhing, moaning mess as fireworks take off behind my eyelids and I cry out his name in a crescendo of ecstasy.