Wild Reckless (Harper Boys #1)(75)
“Thank you,” I whisper, moving my thumb gently along the sharp edges of the heavy metal. The small object is a dark iron, with small bumps along the edges showing its age. I push my finger against the hand to stop the ticking, then wind it again to listen to it begin, holding it up to my ear to hear the mechanisms move inside. My eyes find Owen’s while I listen.
“You like it?” he asks, his bottom lip tucked under his top. I nod yes, keeping my eyes locked on his while the ticking sound fills my ear. My chest constricts with an overwhelming love for his gesture, and I stop the ticking once again, placing the metronome back in the tissue paper on the side of my bed, then lean forward on my knees and hold Owen’s face in between my hands.
“I love it,” I say, the beating inside me so strong it feels as though my gift has been swallowed whole and has begun racing inside my chest. My hands hold still, my eyes on Owens, watching him look over my face, down to my mouth and back to my eyes more than once.
“Happy birthday, Kensington,” he whispers, his lips grazing mine as he speaks. His next pass is more forceful, and when I feel his hands slide up my sides and around my back, I give in to my most basic urges, crawling over his lap until I’m straddling him and kissing him as hard as our lips will let us.
His hands slide down my back until they’re cupping my butt, the thin cotton of my leggings no match for the heat of his grip. Owen sits tall, and I take his signal and reach down to lift his shirt from his body, pulling the two layers of long-sleeved shirts up and over him, revealing the smooth skin I memorized while watching him play basketball outside. Everything about him is warm—his shoulders, warm, his back, warm—his chest against mine, warm. I can feel him through the fabric of my sweatshirt, but want to feel him more.
Without warning, Owen’s hands grip the back of my thighs, lifting me just enough to push me onto my back, and soon he’s above me, his knee pushed between my legs, touching me in a place I’ve never been touched. His kiss is rough and fast, yet somehow not hard enough. When his hands slide my arms up above my head, I let him guide them willingly, his kiss trailing down my neck until his lips stop at the collar of my sweatshirt. His hand trails from my arms, which I leave just as he left them over my head, and the further down my body his hand goes, the less I breathe.
The look in his eyes when his head tilts up to gaze at me is aggressive, almost like an animal, and as much as my hands want to reach down and feel the softness of his hair, I keep them in place, instead watching the dark waves fall into his eyes as he lowers his head again, his hand slowly lifting the bottom of my sweatshirt up my belly.
His lips leave small kisses over my stomach and rib cage as he slowly pulls my shirt up, revealing my skin. His thumb hooks my undershirt next, and soon I’m arching to help him lift both pieces of clothing completely up my body.
I’m terrified that he’s seeing me. I’m excited that he’s seeing me. My breathing is hard, my lips barely parted as Owen’s hand slips the thin pink strap of my bra over my shoulder, kissing my skin where the tension of the strap left a small mark. He does the same on the other side, leaving my bra over my breasts just enough to cover my nipples, which are aching for him to expose them, to feel the cold air of my room.
“You’re a virgin, right?” Owen says, his question surprising me, igniting a fire over my face and making me feel sick and fearful and wonderful all at once. His smile is soft, and he’s not making fun of me, but I’m somehow ashamed that I don’t know what to do, that I’m inexperienced.
“I am. I’m sorry,” I say, and he lowers his head with a small laugh. When he lifts to look at me again, he lowers himself, resting the weight of his body on top of mine, the heat of his skin covering me, warming me completely, and all my breasts want is the feeling of his skin against them, no more barriers in between.
“Kens, don’t apologize. It makes you beautiful. I just wanted to make sure I didn’t make any assumptions, to make sure I treat you…right,” he says, his lips kissing me softly, and then gliding down my chin and neck as he raises himself over me again. He pauses when his mouth is right between my breasts, resting his chin on the center clasp of my bra, and he looks up at me, waiting for me to tell him it’s okay to move forward.
I nod slightly, biting my lip and closing my eyes, arching my back, wanting to press into him harder. Owen’s teeth grip the clasp in the center of my bra, and I don’t know if he’s torn it open or managed to unhook it, but I feel the lacey material begin to slide open, releasing the tension over my breasts, but keeping my nipples covered. The sensation of his tongue on the curve of my breast drives the arch in my back deeper, causing the material of my bra to completely fall to the sides. The cool rush of air on my nipples leaves them feeling hungrier somehow, and I look down, my eyes meeting Owen’s, his sexy smile paused right above one of the peaks. I watch as he leans down, his eyes on mine the entire time, his tongue reaching out and taking a taste of my body, the hardness of my nipple responding with shivers across my skin.
Oh. My. God.
Owen does it again, and the reaction within me is just the same. And when he lets his tongue lave completely over my breast, pulling the pink tip in between both lips, tugging gently with his teeth, I whimper.
“Shhhhhhhh,” Owen whispers, blowing cool air over my breasts, which drives me wilder. “You…need to be quiet,” he smirks.