Four Years Later (One Week Girlfriend #4)(66)

Blinking my eyes open, I stare up at him, see the greedy gleam in his eyes. He looks like he wants to devour me.

And I desperately want to be devoured.

“I need a condom,” he says through gritted teeth just before he releases me.

Then he’s gone, rising from the bed and padding over to his dresser, completely comfortable in his nudity. I stare at him unabashedly, drinking in the perfect lines of his broad, muscled back, his firm backside, his thick thighs. A little sigh escapes me as he pulls open a drawer and goes in search of condoms.

I am so lucky. He’s so thoughtful, sweet, and funny. He writes me poems. Dirty ones, but I don’t care. They’re beautiful. He’s beautiful. Not perfect, but he’s mine.

And I am his.

He approaches the bed, what looks to be about ten condom packets clutched in his fist, and he drops them all on the bedside table, with the exception of one.

That one is in his hand and he’s tearing it open, taking the ring and placing it at the tip of his erection.

I watch him, my eyes wide, my mouth dry. He’s standing on the side of the bed, right in front of me, about to roll the condom on when he realizes I’m staring. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

I nod wordlessly.

His mouth quirks into a smile and he slips the condom on, then he’s on me, pressing me into the mattress, pressing his mouth to my mouth, his tongue tangling with my tongue. His hands are everywhere and so are mine, and soft little sighs escape me, just as low, deep groans leave him.

I’m scared but I’m not. Owen has been so patient with me, I know he won’t be too rough or quick. He wants me to feel good. He’s told me that time and time again. It’s why he wouldn’t let me touch him when we first went into his room. He’d wanted the moment to be all about me and my orgasm and how good he could make me feel.

He wanted me ready, he said. He wanted this to be easier for me.

What he wants … he wants for me.

I spread my legs for him and he nudges his hips between them, the head of his erection brushing against my center. I’m slick down there from his earlier attention and I close my eyes, almost embarrassed by my own body.

“Damn, Chels, you’re f**king soaked for me,” he murmurs, his fingers sliding along my folds, teasing me before he inserts one long, perfect finger deep inside.

All my embarrassment disappears with his words. I spread my legs wider and hook one leg over his hip again, just like he’d positioned me a few minutes ago. I’m completely open to him and he moans against my neck, thrusting his erection against me slowly. It all feels so good, so wondrously right, and then he’s right there. Nudging against me, the very tip of him entering my body for the first time.

I stiffen up all over, feeling like I’m going to shatter.

“Baby.” He runs his hand over my hair, then cups my chin, tilting my face up. I open my eyes and stare at him, my heart racing for a different reason now. Fear of the unknown has left me quivering. “Don’t be scared. Relax.”

Nodding, I close my eyes tight, breathing slowly through my mouth. He drops tiny kisses along my neck, his lips light, his touch fleeting, just as I like it. His big hands are on my br**sts, his thumbs tracing my ni**les, his hips moving against mine languidly, and I lose myself. Let my mind float. Let my thoughts be free.

And then he’s entering me. Slow, so slow. Just a nudge, a gentle push, the head of his erection broaching my body, and I let my thighs fall open. A willing captive to his body as he pins me in place.

“Put your other leg around me,” he commands, and I do so, a thrill moving down my spine at the dark tone of his voice. “Relax, baby, this might hurt.”

He presses forward, inch by thick inch, impaling me with his length. A gasp escapes me at the sharp pinch of pain and I close my eyes and tense my body, my muscles shaking I’m so rigid.

“Relax, Chels. I’m gonna make this so good for you—it’s gonna be unbelievable,” he whispers close to my ear. “Fuck, you feel amazing. Hot and tight. Just let it happen, baby. Trust me.”

I trust him. I do. A ragged breath escapes me and I force my body to slowly relax. His hips rock, his erection pushes forward, and then he’s inside me, thick and hot and throbbing. Filling me to bursting.

We move together, our bodies united, our limbs entwined, our mouths fused. He’s kissing me, moving inside of me, pulling almost all the way out before he pushes back inside, and I open my eyes to find him watching me, his gaze so brilliantly green I’m momentarily dazzled.

“You’re beautiful. You know that?” he asks, pressing his forehead to mine.

“You make me feel beautiful,” I admit, because it’s true. No one has ever treated me like Owen has. I feel safe with him. I trust him. He makes me laugh. He makes me want.

I think I’m falling in love with him.

Owen

I’ve had sex. Lots and lots of it. I would be embarrassed to tell Chelsea I was only fourteen my first time. Hell, Fable would die if she knew this, especially since it happened when I was under her watch. Mom was long gone, Fable was with Drew, and I snuck off with Wade to meet up with two girls from our history class. Girls we knew liked to smoke and party.

Girls we f**ked in a bathroom at a public park not too far down the street from Wade’s house.

Not a proud moment. None of my sexual encounters would be what I’d classify as proud moments. What can I say? I was young and dumb and horny. Only thinking with the thing between my legs, versus the thing that I’m supposed to be using when I’m thinking.