rolled up, pushed his shoulders to the bed, and straddled his hips. My hand snaked down between his legs and mine to find the big beautiful dick I’d seen and held once before. Big indeed. I grasped him and stroked the head across my pussy, coating him in wet. “This is mine. You made it for me, and I’m claiming it.”
His hands came to my hips as I eased myself down. The broad head breached my opening, and he slid inside. His eyes stayed on mine as I took him all the way. Sensation flooded my body, and words flooded my mind. Tight fit. Full. Stretched. Wonderful. Home.
This connection went much deeper than physical contact. He moved, flexing and making me gasp at the intensity of his touch.
“Owen.” I had no other words. I didn’t need them. He held my hips as I rocked on top of him. He let me set the pace, easing in and out of my channel. God, he felt good! So fucking good. I leaned back as he slipped a hand between my legs and his thumb slowly circled my clit.
“Mel, I can’t hold back much longer.” His growling tone vibrated in the room. I felt his quivering body as he tried to slow down. “Come with me.”
He flexed inside me, pressing on my magic spot. My breath rushed out of me as I came. Half a second later, I felt his final push, and he came with powerful pulses, buried deep, filling me with everything he had.
In the aftermath, Owen got up and went into the bathroom, leaving me in the bed with a tender kiss to my forehead. The light from the bathroom and the noise of the faucet running made my brain kick in, and I started to think.
Oh my God, I just fucked Owen MacAteer. Not fucked. Made love. Owen MacAteer made love to me. This is the real deal. I can’t go back, can I? Do I want to?
Owen came back in the room, his naked form outlined for a moment before he turned off the bathroom light. He walked over to me and gently eased my legs apart to clean me with a warm cloth. His ministrations made me feel loved, respected, treasured—all the feels I could ever want from a man. I reached a hand up to stroke his bearded cheek. The faint moonlight made his eyes glitter as he looked into mine. I pulled his face to me for a kiss and whispered against his lips. “I love you too.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Bevvie was right when she told me I’d never find another man to have my back like a MacAteer man. They should come with warning labels. No thirty-day trial period, no try it before you buy it. No returns or exchanges for a different size. Once Owen decided he was my man and I was his woman, he committed one hundred percent. We became a real couple who spent every waking minute together outside of work. He came to my house every night to paint rooms, hang blinds, and install a new water heater. I unpacked, hung pictures, and watched my stomach grow bigger. We went grocery shopping together—or rather, I went grocery shopping with him, since he did almost all the cooking. We hung out at Bevvie and Connor’s house. He took Bevvie’s place at the birthing classes, coaching me to breathe and pant. He went with me to pick out Beatrix Potter themed baby bedding with Peter Rabbit, Mrs. Tiggy Winkle, Benjamin Bunny, and other characters from those classic children’s books. He built me a bunny lamp and bookshelves for the nursery and painted them to match the theme. He installed himself in my life so thoroughly, it was hard to think of a time when he wasn’t there.
And the sex. Oh. My. God. The sex was incredible! Once we got started that first time, it became a feeding frenzy. I couldn’t get enough of the man and craved his touch like I did my next pair of high heels. Owen was just as generous in bed as he was out of it. I had free reign over his body anytime I wanted him. I loved sucking him off while we watched TV at night. Because of my shape, we did it doggie style for the most part or spooned. He never complained and always asked if it was safe for me and the baby. My pregnant body didn’t turn him off or deter him