26. Owen
The sexual tension between us was as thick as smoke in the cab of my truck as I drove us from the bar to my house. Delia was quiet in the passenger seat, and I followed her lead. It wasn’t uncomfortable. I think we were both considering what we’d just done—and what we were about to spend the rest of the weekend doing.
I’d told her once that I was a greedy and possessive man, and every nerve ending in my body buzzed with the need to fully claim her, to drive my cock inside her and mark her as mine forever.
Some of that tension eased when we pulled up to the gate of my house and I rolled down the window to punch in the code.
“It’s one-one-two-seven-zero-eight,” I told her. “If you ever need it.”
The day my dad died.
Unbidden, a wave of grief coursed through me, and terror gripped my chest. My dad had passed so suddenly, there one second, gone the next. I never got the chance to give him a proper goodbye. I couldn’t even tell you what my last words to him were. Even all these years later, I wasn’t sure if that was a blessing or curse. I was on solid ground mentally, but the problem with grief was that it wasn’t linear, and the reminder that these moments on this plane are so fleeting snuck up on me at the worst possible times.
Delia reached out and grabbed my hand, giving it a quick squeeze, grounding me, then pulling away as I put the truck in park. Having her here, knowing we were set on a course to—hopefully—forever, reminded me how easily I could lose her. She was another person I cared about deeply who could be gone from my life in an instant, and panic gripped my chest.
The second the door into the mudroom off the garage closed behind us, the leash on my control snapped, and I was on her. Shoving her into the wall, slipping my hand beneath her skirt and cupping a handful of her ass.
“Bed,” she growled as my mouth descended on hers, punctuating the word with a nip of my bottom lip.
“No.” The beast in my chest needed her now, was unwilling to wait the seconds it would take to walk us there.
Normally, I could keep those demons at bay, could maintain my composure. But in the comfort of my own home, with Delia in my arms? I knew I was safe to fall apart if I needed.
As if sensing the shift in me, though she didn’t know why, Delia reached up and cupped my face, leaning back to stare at me. “I know,” she said quietly, and I didn’t have to ask what she meant. Somehow, this woman could feel the chaos of swirling emotions inside me. Probably because she frequently experienced a similar phenomenon.
We were far more alike than I’d ever thought.
“I know you want to fuck me right here,” she continued. “That the caveman in your chest is screaming at you to do so. But we have time, Owen. So much of it. A lifetime, really. There’s no rush here.”
But I knew better than anyone that lifetimes weren’t guaranteed, that they could be cut short and ripped away in a flash. That knowledge was what drove me now.
I sighed deeply, the exhalation carrying the weight of the world. “The gate code is the day my dad died,” I said, offering no further explanation. Delia didn’t need it; she simply nodded in understanding. I tipped my forehead against hers. “I haven’t even had you yet, but I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you,” I admitted.
“You’ve always had me,” she said quietly, tilting her face to press a soft, featherlight kiss to my lips. “And I know the loss of your father still haunts you, but be here with me right now. Feel me, Owen.” She pressed her hands to my chest, and I removed mine from under her skirt to skate them up her sides, along her arms, over her shoulders and into her hair. Touching every inch of her I could reach. Proving she was, in fact, very much alive and not a figment of my imagination. Cradling her head, I lightly massaged my fingertips into her scalp. “I’m real. I’m safe. I’m yours.”
I nodded, then pushed back from her to kick my boots off. Delia slipped out of her own shoes, and I reached for her hand, pulling her through the house.
We passed from the mudroom to the laundry room, then the kitchen, eventually entering the open space of the living room, where the staircase served as the centerpiece. I didn’t pause to let her take in my home, only silently led her up the stairs and straight to my bedroom.
The moment we crossed the threshold, our hands were groping, mine pulling her tight sweater over her head, her reaching for the hem of my Henley. In seconds, we were naked, and I settled my hands on her hips, pushing her toward the bed. She folded when her knees met the edge, landing softly on her back on the mattress.
With her hair splayed out around her, all of her smooth, olive skin on display, her subtle curves and modest chest? She was every one of my wet dreams come to life.
I leaned in and slanted my mouth over hers. She tasted like her namesake. Like the smooth, smoky bite of whiskey. Like that first sip coating my taste buds at the end of a long day. Soothing warmth with the promise that everything would be right in the world once I got to the bottom of the glass, once the tension in my shoulders and jaws and temples had eased.
She tasted like mine and looked like forever.
I knelt on the mattress and settled between her thighs, simply staring at her.
“What’re you doing?”
“Looking at you.”
“Why?” The self-consciousness was evident in her tone, and she shifted slightly to band her arm over her breasts.
I traced a finger over her lips, marveling at their softness, and using my other hand to pull her arm away from her chest. “Don’t hide from me, Whiskey. Every inch of you is perfect. You look… ”
“Like what?” she prompted when I trailed off.
“You look like I’m done looking.”
Delia’s smile was brighter than the sun. “Guess you got more than you bargained for when you agreed to partner with me,” she said.
“I’ve made some poor decisions in my life,” I said, bending until I was a breath away from her lips. “But letting you into it was not one of them.”
She smiled. “I did say you wouldn’t find anyone better.”
I pressed my mouth to hers, back up a bit and said, “And you were right.”
“I usually am.”
“I guess I better reward you for being the smartest woman alive then.”
“About time.”
I growled and captured her lips, devouring her, pushing her into the mattress. Her hands were everywhere: my hair, my chest tweaking my nipples, nails scraping down my back, settling on my ass, pulling me closer.
Like a key fitting to a lock, my cock notched at her entrance, her desire coating my tip. I reached between us to brush it across her slit, spreading that moisture down my entire length.
“I haven’t been with anyone in a long time, Whiskey,” I said. “And I get tested regularly. They’ve all come back clear.”
“Is that your way of asking if it’s okay to fuck me bare?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I’m happy to report that I have also been celibate for a long time, and my last annual also came back clear. And I’m on birth control. ”
“You and TJ never…?”
She shook her head vigorously. “That wasn’t…there wasn’t anything there. I was only trying to forget how badly I wanted a certain quarterback.”
“Retired,” I growled, though joy bloomed in my chest with the knowledge that I hadn’t been alone in the wanting her all these months like I’d thought.
Her fingertips trailed over the ridges of my abdomen. “Hottest retired quarterback I’ve ever seen.” Her gaze flicked up to mine, her whiskey irises aflame. “Hottest man I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” I said, then slowly slid home.
With a moan, she took me perfectly, hips tilting to accept all of me in one steady thrust.
Fully seated, I groaned, dropping my forehead to hers. “Fuck, Whiskey. I knew you were made for me. Do you feel that? Do you feel how perfectly you fit around me?”
Delia whimpered in response, and I straightened to lock my attention between us, retreating slowly before slamming back in. I loved the way her tits bounced with the movement, how she slammed her eyes shut and tucked that full bottom lip between her teeth. As though she was stopping herself from making any noise.
I freed her lip with my thumb, then dipped the finger into her mouth. Her eyes flew open, and she bit down on it, swirling her tongue over the pad before I withdrew. “Don’t hold back, baby,” I said. “I want to hear you. Tell me how good you feel.”
“I’m so full,” she said. “It’s so good, QB. But I need more.”
“Fast and hard?”
“Mm,” she moaned as I increased my pace.
“Touch yourself.”
“Why?” she asked, almost as though she couldn’t help being contrary, but she slinked those long, thin fingers, between her legs, the deep red tips obscene against her clit and next to my flushed and swollen cock as I pumped in and out.
“We’re a team.”
“In this?”
“In everything ,” I corrected. Already, my orgasm coiled at the base of my spine, tingling my skin, preparing to unleash. “I need you to come with me.”
She didn’t say anything in response, only flattened those three fingers and rubbed herself with quick circles. Her nails scraped my shaft with each of my thrusts. With her other hand, she reached up to grab hold of my chain.
“Been waiting for the day I had this swinging in my face.”
It was too much. Too much sensation, too much pleasure, too much energy pushing against my skin, begging to be let out. Too many sinful words from my filthy girl.
I dropped forward, my hands on either side of her head, my hips slamming into her. All finesse lost to the desire to send us both over the edge. My balls drew up tighter at the same moment her walls clamped like a fist around me. We barreled toward that cliff, out of control and unable to stop. Delia met every pulse of my hips greedily, her grip on my chain anchoring me close.
As if I was going anywhere.
We went soaring off the ledge in unison, Delia’s orgasm tearing a scream free from her throat as she pulsed forcefully around me. My arms collapsed, my entire body weight pressing Delia deeper into the mattress as I buried my face in her neck, groaning her name mixed with unintelligible words into her skin as I spilled long and hot inside her. The edges of my vision darkened, my muscles quaking. Her whole body spasmed beneath me, the aftershocks rolling like endless waves over her, her pussy still pulsing around me long after I’d emptied myself.
When she stilled at last, I lifted myself and brushed her hair off her face.
“Sorry for crushing you,” I whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
“There are worse ways to go,” she laughed, offering her mouth to me.
I gave her a peck then pulled away and sat up, slowly pulling my cock from her warmth.
“Ah,” she breathed as I slipped free.
“Sensitive?” I smirked.
“A bit.”
Though it should’ve taken some time for me to be ready for round two, when my eyes caught sight of my cum leaking from her, my cock instantly perked back up.
I reached down and stuffed my finger into her entrance, and she twitched.
“Fuck,” I cursed. “I’m going to fill you with my cum at least once every day just to watch it drip out of this pussy.”
She heaved herself up to sitting, then scrambled onto all fours and turned her ass to me. “How about we go again right now?”
I swore again as she dropped to her forearms, raising that perfect ass into the air. Begging for me to take her like this.
“You’re ruining me, Whiskey. ”
“That’s funny,” she said, angling her head to look over her shoulder at me. “I distinctly recall you saying you were going to destroy my pretty little cunt . So get to work.”
And who the fuck was I to say no to an offer like that?
Before I’d really thought it through, my hand shot out and smacked her ass. Instantly, her skin reddened in the shape of my palm. I was about to apologize when she said, “Do that again.”
“You liked that?”
“Find out for yourself.”
I brought my other palm down on the other cheek, and she dropped her head, moaning loudly. I reached between her legs, delivering a light slap to her pussy, and the moan grew in volume.
“Fuck,” I marveled. “You are…everything.”
I gripped my cock at the base and pumped it roughly until it fully stiffened in my hand. I scooted forward until the head brushed her flesh. “Tilt your hips for me, love.”
She obeyed, her pelvis angling to right where I needed her, and I roughly shoved inside. Delia’s head rose, back arching on another moan.
“Rough, QB,” she gasped. “Manhandle me.”
My hands latched onto her hips hard enough that I knew she’d have bruises tomorrow. She whimpered in pleasure, throwing her ass back to greet each of my forward thrusts. I gave myself over to my carnal desires, the desperation to fuck her hard spurring me on.
I’d never had an equal in the bedroom before. Never been with someone who allowed me to bring my fantasies to life, but that’s what Delia was doing for me. She met every punishing slap of my hips into her backside, her flesh rippling with each contact. I reached down and wrapped her hair around my fist, pulling her head back, holding her in place as I used her body for my most basic needs. Her moans of encouragement pushed me further, and I was a fucking goner when she cried out as her orgasm snuck up on us both and tore her apart. My free hand slapped her ass again, and I made her feel every second of that pleasure as I relentlessly pumped her through it. Her body quaked, my hand in her hair the only thing keeping her upright.
Despite her pleas, I didn’t slow, and the climax rolled and rolled through her. My own once again gained steam, my cock almost painfully engorged as I pushed myself toward it.
This girl might very well kill me, but buried in her pussy was the best way I could think to go out.
“Come on my back, QB,” Delia managed to gasp out.
My thrusts slowed a fraction. “But—”
“You can blow inside me again later,” she said, breathing heavily as she turned her head to give me a saucy grin. Her hair was a wild mess from my hands. “Right now, I want you to paint my skin. Mark me.”
“You are fucking sinful, my girl,” I said through a groan, letting go of her hair to reach around and find her clit. She twitched against me, a breathy moan falling from her lips.
“Only for you.”
Helpless to resist giving her anything she wanted, I pulled free. Dropping my hand from her clit to the bed, I curved over her back. My other hand flew up and down my length, twisting and squeezing, imagining her mouth and her pussy around me. She rose up onto all fours to watch me, shifting the curtain of her hair out of the way .
“That’s it, baby,” she said, eyes wide with wonder and desire. “Come for me, QB.”
I let go with her words, coming in long spurts over the smooth, golden skin of her back. Fuck, this woman. I could do nothing but stare down at her in amazement, intensely satisfied by the sight of my desire decorating her naked flesh. I was struck by the urge to memorialize this moment, to brand it on my brain.
So I leaned over to get my phone off the nightstand, where I’d tossed it as I stripped earlier.
“What’re you doing?”
“You’re always taking photos of me,” I said as I snapped several in quick succession. “Now it’s my turn.”
“Owen!” she yelped, rising onto her knees and spinning toward me. “You can’t do that!”
“The hell I can’t,” I said, smirking at my phone, at the sexy photos now gracing my camera roll. “Damn, baby. That’s one for the spank bank.”
“You don’t need a spank bank,” she said, swiping for my phone, but I held it over my head and out of her reach. “You’ve got the real thing.”
Curving my palm around the back of her neck, I dipped my head and hauled her in for a kiss.
“You’re goddamn right.”