moan as my skin burns beneath his hot, wet kisses.
I can trust him here. It’s not real. It’s a dream my heart yearns for so much I can feel it all throughout my body. Even in my sleep.
When his tongue runs through my folds I feel my body quake like only Owen can make it. I whimper out in desperate hope this never ends. He’s devouring my honey with such hunger. My thighs are quivering on his shoulders.
I clench the sheets in my fingertips and arch off the bed. My hips rock to a rhythm of their own as he clamps a hand over one thigh and the other over my belly. His huge warm hand pressing down on my flesh warms my whole body and wraps me in a heat that makes me feel safe and free.
His groans fill the room and create a sonic quake that booms through me. Yes, I can trust him here. I can allow this feeling here. It’s what I need most. To feel, not to think, not to worry, not to cry. My only cries are cries of pleasure.
When my body explodes and I gush in his mouth, it is all too real. The feel of him latching on to claim my juices, the wetness between my cheeks, and my toes curling—it all sends me spiraling.
I bolt upright and blink the sleep away, my body is humming a song for the one man it knows. Only as I blink yet again, I’m startled by what comes into view. How the hell did he even get in here?
Owen’s green eyes are glowing hungrily back at me. I compress my brows as I try to process whether or not I’m awake. I watch his bare broad chest and shoulders as he stalks up my body like a panther. He glides his hands up from my ankles, over my calves, to my thighs, up my sides, to stop right under my heaving breasts.
I’m stuck, my brain is still scrambled from the orgasm that’s still rocking my body with aftershocks. I look down at his pale hands on my brown skin. My chest pangs because they look like they belong there.
I usually keep my door locked because I sleep in the nude or in my underwear. I know I locked that door. I flicker my eyes back up to his with questions in them.
He ignores the look and dips his head to wrap his warm mouth around my nipple. He draws it deep into his mouth as he rubs his rough thumb over the other tight peak.
I drop my head back as I gasp and whimper. I shake away the cobwebs and gain the strength to press a hand to his chest to push him away.
“Brick,” I call out.
My nipple pops free from his mouth and he looks up at me with a loud growl. I eye him warily and get ready to tell him to get out of my room, but he has other plans.
He slides his large hand to span my back. I part my lips on a stolen breath as his thick tip pushes through my entrance. I sob. He covers my mouth with his heated one to absorb my cries. He moves his hips slowly as he thrusts in and out of me.
He kisses me for what must be a full five minutes, while keeping the same pace, before he breaks the kiss and locks his green eyes with my brown. I have to close my eyes to block out the intensity I see there. He places his forehead to mine.
I’m so confused. I don’t understand how he can make love to me like this if I mean so little to him. I turn my head to break the connection.
I should know better. He’s not having it. Brick grasps my face with his fingertips and turns me back to him.
He nips my bottom lip, then kisses the sting away. A single tear slips free and I’m so angry at myself. I push harder at his chest.
“Brick, stop,” I say weakly.
“You’re mine, Eva,” he growls. “You know damn fucking well how I feel about you. And stop calling me Brick before I spank your ass.”
I go from feeling sorry for myself to being pissed off. I reach to shove my hands in his hair. I wrap my legs around his waist and lock my ankles at the small of his back.
He growls as I start to rock my hips on him. He slides his