Chapter 25 Bianca
BIANCA
I can’t stop the grin that splits my face as Owen drags me down the hallway.
The blanket Tristan tossed over us trails behind like a cape, barely clinging to my shoulders.
My skin still buzzes where Freddie touched me—electric little aftershocks that make me shiver despite the heat rolling off Owen’s body.
For the first time in a long time, a piece of me feels light.
Carefree, even. It’s a dangerous feeling.
Spending the day with Freddie was good for my soul.
His good hand locks around mine, grip just tight enough to leave an impression. Not painful, but... big mine energy. A reminder that I’ve been passed from one to the next, like I’m some prize they’re taking turns with.
And fuck if I don’t love every second of it.
Owen locks the bathroom door behind us and turns to face me, his dark eyes burning. “You’re a fucking menace,” he says, but there’s no heat behind it. Just hunger.
“And you’re a control freak.” I drop the blanket completely, standing naked before him, Freddie’s release still sticky between my thighs. “Now… remember your punishment.”
His eyes trail down my body, lingering on the evidence of what Freddie and I did. “I remember.”
“Good.” I step toward the shower. “Help me get cleaned up for dinner.”
He reaches past me to turn on the shower, adjusting the temperature until it’s warm enough.
Steam begins to fill the room. I watch him as he tries to navigate getting undressed with one arm, his face screwed up with frustration as he fumbles with the buttons on his jeans.
The sling is a clumsy, awkward thing that gets in his way.
“Here,” I say, stepping forward to help him with it.
My fingers brush against the warm skin of his neck as I unclip the straps.
There’s intimacy in the act. He lets me help him, his usual stubborn pride giving way to a quiet vulnerability.
I carefully ease the sling off his injured arm and help him out of his shirt, my hands gentle on his skin.
He watches my face the entire time, his expression unreadable.
“Well, now you’re naked, but I thought you were washing me...” My voice is a little breathless.
“Might as well kill two birds. In you go, Princess.” He guides me into the shower, his warm hand a brand on the small of my back.
The hot water hits my skin, washing away the stickiness between my thighs. I close my eyes, and Owen steps in behind me, his presence immediately filling the small space.
“Lift your arms,” he says, and I comply without thinking.
He squeezes body wash onto a loofah and begins to wash me, starting with my shoulders. His movements are careful and methodical, until they’re not. The loofah slides over my skin, then suddenly it’s just his hand.
“Your skin is so soft,” he murmurs, his breath hot against my wet neck.
I shiver despite the steam curling around us. “Owen...”
“Hmm?” The loofah travels around to my stomach, circles my navel, then slides up to the underside of my breasts.
“I wish you could’ve come with me,” he admits softly. “It was difficult being away from you all day.”
I wrap my arms around his neck lightly, and the water beats down on his broad shoulders, rivulets running between the defined muscles of his chest. “Being locked up at home like a princess in a tower while the big, strong alphas go take care of business isn’t going to work for me, Owen,” I tell him, surprising myself with how calm I sound.
“But I understand you’re all struggling with this situation. ”
Owen laughs darkly. “Freddie must’ve really fucked the fight out of you because you are definitely not the same girl from this morning.”
I punch him lightly in the arm. “Shut up.”
His good hand comes up to cup my breast, thumb brushing over my sensitive nipple. A small gasp escapes me, and his eyes darken as they roam over my body, looking at the red marks Freddie left behind.
“Tell me,” Owen says, his voice dropping low. “Did Freddie lose his mind having you all to himself without anyone else here to steal your attention? Because I would.”
“Yes,” I breathe.
“Good.” His fingers slide down between my legs, parting them. “You’re still so fucking wet. Is that from him or me?”
“Both,” I admit, my head falling against his shoulder.
He pushes two fingers inside me without warning, making me whimper. “Open your mouth.”
I do, and he brings his hand up, slipping his fingers between my lips. The taste of Freddie hits my tongue.
“Taste him before I wash him away,” Owen growls in my ear. “Maybe next time, you’ll get to taste all of us mixed together.”
I moan around his fingers, sucking them clean. “This must be against the rules.”
“It’s not.” His lips hover just above my skin, not touching, but close enough that I can feel his breath ghost over my wet shoulder. “I’m following your rules to the letter.”
His thumb and forefinger pinch my nipple, just hard enough to make me arch into his touch. The loofah travels lower, between my legs. “Spread them,” he commands. “Freddie left a mess.”
I obey, cursing myself even as I do what he asks. This ban was supposed to be a punishment for him.
The loofah brushes against my clit, and I jerk. “Owen...”
“Yes, Princess?” The innocence in his voice is so fake it makes me want to laugh.
“You’re such an asshole.”
“I missed you all day, Bianca,” he says, his dark eyes tracking the movement of the loofah between my thighs. His cock is rock hard against my hip. “You know how jealous I am, but fuck if I don’t love seeing you full of them too.”
His hand replaces the loofah, fingers sliding inside me. “I can’t wait until we fill you one after the other again,” he murmurs against my ear. “We’ll let you milk us all dry until it’s running down your sexy as fuck thighs, and we’re not going to let you clean up either.”
I love when he’s filthy and possessive, but I’m getting dangerously close to begging for his cock. And I’m putting my foot down.
Owen works a third finger inside and pushes them deeper, very slow and torturous about it. I let out a low whine. “So tight and hot. Is this how you were for Freddie? All soft and sweet for him?”
I moan and nod, unable to form words as his fingers curl inside me. The shower spray hits my breasts, adding another layer of sensation.
“Good girl,” he growls into my neck. “I like seeing you both happy.”
He rubs my clit, and I’m close. “Come for me,” Owen commands, his fingers working me to the brink. I cry out his name as he works me through it.
When I can stand on my own again, he removes his fingers and brings them to his lips.
“That’s cheating,” I gasp, watching as he licks them clean, his eyes never leaving mine.
“You need to be more specific with your rules,” he says with a wicked grin. “You didn’t say anything about tasting you.”
“You’re impossible.”
I bite my lip, thinking. Touching him wouldn’t break the rules, and I know he could probably use the release after a day of doing his father’s bidding. My fingers twitch to touch him.
“Speaking of Weller,” Owen says, his expression serious, “he’s pretty pissed about the cameras. At Freddie, mostly. But he’ll probably want to put you over his knee too.”
“Maybe he’ll let you watch.”
Owen chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest. “We’ll see. Weller is a possessive bastard when it comes to you. Trissy—“ he rolls his eyes “—is the one who will enjoy showing you off the most. And I’m excited to see what he comes up with.”
I shiver. I’m excited for that too. They all know exactly how to make my body sing.
Pulling his neck down with one hand, I give him a quick, dirty kiss.
When I pull back, I tease, “I wish I could suck your cock to show you how much I missed you, but...” I shrug.
“Don’t handcuff me without permission next time.
” I emphasize the permission part because being restrained does appeal to me in certain situations.
Owen groans. “I love your filthy mouth, Princess.”
I move to the built-in bench in the shower and sit down, spreading my knees slightly.
Owen’s brow furrows in confusion until I lean back and spread my legs wide, giving him an unobstructed view of everything.
His cock jumps, thick and heavy between his legs.
The power I have over him is a heady thing, and I feel drunk on it.
“Touch yourself for me,” I tell him, my voice husky with desire.
His good hand wraps around his cock without hesitation, and I’m mesmerized by the sight. Water cascades down his chest, over the ridges of his abs, droplets clinging to the dark hair that trails down his stomach. I glance at the bandaging, but it looks waterproof. We can check it later.
I push two fingers inside myself, matching his rhythm. “Owen...” He steps closer. I could reach out and touch him. But the space between us, filled with steam and tension, is so fucking hot.
“Spread yourself wider,” he commands, his eyes fixed on where my fingers disappear inside me. “I want to see all of you.”
I comply, using both my hands to open myself up for him. It feels vulgar and obscene, and I think I love it. The vulnerability of the position, combined with the raw hunger in his eyes, has me clenching around nothing.
“Goddamn,” he growls, his hand moving faster. “This feels like a fucking dream.” He steps closer, his cock aimed at my spread pussy, nearly brushing against me.
His control snaps. He lets out a harsh groan, his hips bucking forward just enough that his cock barely kisses my skin. The brief, slick contact sends him over the edge. He comes with a guttural shout, his release aimed right at my hole, obsessively trying to fill me even without being inside me.
The warmth of it coats me, and instead of washing it away, I rub it in, playing with it until he can’t stand it. He moves forward, his good hand gently collecting the mess of his come and my wetness, and then he pushes it all inside me, holding it there.