Smack.
She tilts her head back and lifts her arms, crossing them behind her head. “Again.”
Smack.
“Owen, harder.”
“No,” I say, not wanting to spank her harder than I am.
She takes my hands and smacks them to her ass, gritting her teeth. “I said harder, damn it!”
I sit up and rob her mouth before she can sass me anymore, and both of my hands smack her ripe globes.
“Yes, oh god, more. I’m close. I’m so close,” she says, swaying back and forth on my cock.
I continue the double rounds of spanking, using my hands to welt that white ass to a pretty shade of red. Burying my face in her chest, I stretch my tongue and lick her nipple. I’m everywhere. I’m being sloppy, but I can’t help it. I need to be all over her, and I can’t decide what to focus on.
My orgasm threatens again, but I can’t lose it before she does. I squeeze my eyes shut, doing my best not to explode, but her moans, her heat, it’s too much. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I can’t hold out. I thrust my hips up and piston in her tight channel, roaring my inability not to come.
“Yes, yes, yes!” Her pussy clamps around me as she comes, screaming my name at the top of her lungs, “Owen!” She stops moving, and I glance down to see the root of my cock, wet and shining with her slick as her muscles continue to spasm.
“You. Are. Mine.” I plant myself as far as I can and come, my seed splashing against her walls. Her pussy drinks me and I hope, like I shouldn’t, that I find my way to the deepest, most intimate part of her.
That’s what I need. I need to make her mine.
More than words, more than physical contact.
I need her to marry me. I need her to have my children.
I fucking need her.
Twenty-One
Jolie
I am deliciously sore.
I’ve never experienced anything like that in my life.
Owen was gentle, passionate, and he knew where to touch me without me saying anything. We were entuned with one another, a song with music and lyrics that when they come together, the combination is one that can never be forgotten. It’s written in history as one of the greatest ballads in the world.
That’s what we are.
We are the songs people sing and write about.
I didn’t think anything like that was real. I thought love was this thing people wished upon a star for, but that isn’t the case. Love happens when you least expect it. I mean, I ran through the woods to get away from a maniac, and I never expected to run into love.
It was the last thing I wanted. I never wanted to be with a man ever again, and Owen changed my mind.
He didn’t try to change my mind; it was natural, something as easy as breathing and thinking.
I look out the window and see the sun is barely rising. I turn to my left and see Owen sleeping. His arm is stretched behind him, and his biceps bulge. The sheet is hanging on his hips, and his strong frame has my eyes lingering over the defined pec muscles and riveting abs. No one should be this good looking.
Really.
No one.
“Watching someone sleep is creepy,” he mumbles sleepily without opening his eyes.