“Yes,” I whisper.
The capitulation has me falling over the edge, giving him what he wants most. Me.
His strong, smooth back tenses under my palms as he holds himself in me, as deep as possible, and I come on his cock.
“Oz!”
I shout as my pussy pulses around his throbbing length, and he comes inside me. I continue to orgasm, knowing it’s so wrong that we did it, but not being able to stop my body’s reaction. The raw sex was so good and so dirty, but still sweet at the core. It was possessive and primal, and I had the strongest orgasm I’ve ever experienced.
We finally shared ourselves in the most intimate way possible, and I don’t think about what it all actually means. In this moment, I’m falling for him, and I let myself be in the moment. It’s the closest I’ve ever been to someone, and I refuse to think about anything other than the bliss between us.
I’m suddenly exhausted. Wiped out from the orgasms, my body is depleted of energy. I try to cling to Oz, but my fingers slip from his back, and my legs have no strength left to hold him to me.
I don’t know if I fall asleep before he pulls out or if he stays in me all night. What I do know is that when I find Oz in my dreams, he holds me and tells me he loves me. Or maybe that wasn’t a dream at all.
Chapter Eighteen
Mallory
* * *
I lie on my back, the morning sun creeping through the tall windows that span the far wall. Oz is on his stomach with one arm wrapped around me as the night before plays through my mind. I think about my little spat with Paige and how I was a brat to her. I’m really going to have to apologize for that. I snapped at her when I shouldn’t have. All through college she was always pulling us out of places, wanting us to go home, saying we would live it up after we graduated, and I think some of that came to a head last night. It was something I both loved and disliked about Paige. She cares so much and sometimes she mother-hens me. It’s not something I’m used to. At the same time, though, I want to be able to let loose every now and then.
Maybe on my way home I can stop and get a supreme pizza and a case of Red Bull as a peace offering. Talk things out a little.
Then there’s Oz. I run my finger along the tattoo that runs up his arm; the one I didn’t even know he had. He’s always buttoned up in his suits. It reminds me how little I really know about him and how far I’d let things go last night. I wanted the sex, but I’d let him come inside me. I can still feel the wetness between my thighs, but I can’t bring myself to regret it. I’ve never in my life felt so connected to someone.
I think about Oz punching Joel, and I think about something I saw in his eyes. Something deep and dark, lurking underneath. Was it a moment of jealousy, or was it more? It had to be something that happened in the heat of the moment, because everything about Oz is sweet and loving. Every touch and every word he gives me. That anger is the first flaw I’ve seen in him. But the way he was with me last night was completely different. He worshipped my body, like he was starved for me. His mouth never really left my body as he made love to me.
I’d still have to talk to him about it. In the fog of my drunkenness, I’d brushed it off too easily and got caught up in Oz being back after not seeing him in days. That and not hearing from him all day Friday, which wasn’t normal for us. He can’t go around punching people in a jealous rage.
Pulling myself slowly from his bed so I don’t wake him, I slip off and quietly walk to the bathroom. I close the door behind me, flip on the light and look around. I must have been half-asleep when Oz brought me home with him last night, because I don’t remember any of his home. In fact, I don’t even know what part of the city I’m in.
The bathroom is giant. A glass shower that looks like it could fit ten people takes up one wall. On the other wall is a bathtub that someone could possibly do laps in. This bathroom is bigger than our freaking living room. I debate taking a bath in it now because I can feel every achy muscle in my body as I move. It’s a sweet pain that makes me smile. I even like the tenderness I feel between my legs. Like Oz marked me as his. Feeling the blush hit my cheeks, I try to shake off the shyness about what we did last night. No use in being embarrassed now.