Page 81 of Something Like Shelter

Then, making my breath catch, his lips sucked at my clit through my panties. A moan escaped me as my hand slapped down on his head, fingers sifting into his soft hair, then gripping. My hips rocked as his tongue worked me through the material for a moment before, finally, he pulled it down.

He waited for me to step out before he was between my legs again. Without the barrier, the heat of his tongue as it traced me had my thighs shaking as my hips rode the sensation, chasing the climax that was building inside.

My soft sounds grew to loud moans, the sound filling the empty house as Owen continued his unbearable teasing, driving me just to that edge, then retreating before I could fly over.

His hand slid between us, fingers gliding inside me, thrusting for a moment before twisting, then stroking against my top wall.

There was no way to edge me again.

Even I wasn’t prepared as the orgasm surged through me, stealing my breath and my voice, so all I could do was shake and hold him against me as the waves crashed again and again.

He slipped away after, kissing up across the triangle of my sex, over my belly, then skipping over my chest to tease my neck again.

His fingers were still inside me, thrusting lazily, somehow managing to start to drive me up again.

“Owen, please,” I begged as my hips started to rock against his fingers—needing more, needing him.

“Tell me what you want,” he demanded as his teeth snagged my earlobe and tugged.

“You,” I whimpered, reaching out to cup him through his boxer briefs. For just a second, he rocked into my hand, his breath going short and shallow, his body tensing.

But then his hand slid from between my thighs so he could yank down his underwear.

While on his knees, he must have fished a condom out of his wallet with his free hand because the next thing I knew, he had the foil to his lips, nipped the edge, then ripped it open.

I watched, desire tightening, as he slid on the protection, then stroked himself down to the base so he could slide his length against my cleft, coating himself in my desire, then tapping against my throbbing clit until I was wild with desire.

Only then did he slide inside me, dragging a moan from deep in my chest as he gasped at the tight clench of my walls around him.

I grabbed his hips, trying to force him to move when he stilled as he slammed deep.

“Owen, move,” I begged, shameless with my need for release.

“Not yet,” he said, his voice tight. “I need to get control over myself.”

“No, you don’t.”

He didn’t need more encouragement than that.

He yanked up my leg, hooking it around his waist, and then he was moving—hard, fast, deep, each thrust of his hips making my whole body jolt. But I just met his movements with my own, sinking down as he slammed deep, my sounds growing until I was shaking, moaning, coming around him.

But as I came down, it was clear Owen was not done with me, not yet.

Feeling the change in me, he grabbed my hips as he slid out of me, turning me, then pressing my upper body across the island, the cool surface making a shiver rack my overheated system. But there was barely time to process that as Owen moved in behind me and slammed deep inside me again.

He reached for my arms, spreading them out in front of me. “Grab the edge,” he demanded.

Then showed me exactly why he’d made that demand as he started to move. Not fast—slow, deliberate, hard, each thrust with enough force behind it to send me up over the island if he hadn’t told me to hold on.

It wasn’t long until I was pulsing and aching, my sounds graduating from moans to cries as the desire twisted so tight, I felt about to snap.

“There,” Owen groaned, voice deep. “That’s it. Come for me. I need to feel it.”

With that, I did, crying out over and over as the waves pulled me under again and again.

Owen cursed, working me through it, then slamming impossibly deep, his body jerking as he came.

I can’t say how long we stayed there after—me flat against the cold, hard stone surface, him behind me with one hand holding onto my shoulder.