Spider's Trap Page 18


We broke apart after a particularly long, feverish kiss, and Owen wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me onto his lap so that I was straddling him. My robe fell open, and he nipped at my exposed shoulder, even as his hand slid up my leg and under the hem of the black fabric.

I arched an eyebrow. “And what are you up to?”

Owen’s hand crept higher up my thigh, then higher still. “Will it make you feel better if I promise you that it’s something bad?”

I puckered my lips and pretended to think about it. “I don’t know. Perhaps I need a demonstration. Just to be sure.”

He flashed me a wicked grin, his violet eyes bright with the same desire that was simmering in my veins. “A demonstration?” he murmured. “Oh, I think that can be arranged.”

He stroked the curls at the junction of my thighs, then slipped a finger inside me.

“Oh . . .”

I groaned, dug my hands into his shoulders, and rocked against him, even as he kept stroking me, his fingers moving in a slow, familiar pattern, one that he knew always drove me crazy. Waves of tension, pressure, and pleasure rippled through my body, but all I could do was hang on to him.

“More . . .” I whispered. “More . . .”

Owen leaned forward, his teeth nipping at my shoulder again. “Your wish is my command,” he murmured.

His hand began to move faster and faster, in more elaborate patterns, his fingers skimming the surface, then moving deeper inside me, only to retreat again. All the while, he kept kissing my neck and shoulder, his teeth playfully teasing my skin just like his hand was. Finally, it was all too much, and I shuddered, finding my release.

I slumped against him, my head buried against his neck, my entire body warm and boneless.

“I take it my demonstration was satisfactory?” he rumbled.

“Satisfactory is one way of putting it.” I leaned back and winked. “Although I could always use another demonstration.” I rocked forward on his lap again, feeling the hard length of him pressing up against me. “One with you wearing far less clothing.”

This time, Owen was the one who groaned. “I could say the same thing about you.”

I leaned forward and kissed him, my tongue slipping inside his mouth and thrusting against his. Owen growled low and deep in his throat, and that liquid heat burned through my veins again. I wanted to touch him—now—so I ripped his shirt open instead of bothering with the buttons and starting nipping at his neck and shoulders with my teeth.

“I think we’ve had enough teasing, don’t you?” he rasped.

He picked me up and laid me back on the couch. I watched while he got to his feet, shrugged out of his clothes, and grabbed a condom from his wallet. I took my little white pills, but we always used extra protection.

I drank in the sight of his strong, muscled body, my fingers itching to touch all his warm, supple skin. No matter how many times we were together, I always wanted more of him.

Owen covered himself with the condom, then leaned down and tugged open the belt on my robe, carefully peeling both sides away from my body, as though he were unwrapping a present. His hot violet gaze raked over me in appreciative fashion, and he leaned down to kiss me again, but I put a finger on his lips, stopping him.

“As you were,” I ordered.

He quirked an eyebrow, but he sat back down on the couch. I gave him a slow, lazy smile, then got up and straddled him again. I looped my arms around his neck and swiveled my hips in a slow circle, pressing up against his hard length, then retreating.

“How do you like this demonstration?” I teased, making another slow circle. “Or do I need to take it up a notch?”

I leaned forward, as though I were finally going to join our bodies together, but stopped just short.

“Come here, you,” Owen growled.

He grabbed my hips and pushed inside me with one long, smooth stroke that had us both moaning at how good it felt. Our mouths fused together, our tongues tangling as we devoured each other. Owen’s hands cupped my breasts, kneading the already sensitive mounds, and he kissed his way down my chest, licking first one nipple, then the other.

I started to rock against him to find the release we were both so desperate for, but Owen’s hands fell to my hips, keeping me in place.

“Hold still,” he rasped against my skin. “I haven’t finished my feast yet.”

He leaned forward and kissed my breasts again. I groaned at not being able to move against him, with him, but waiting now would only make it that much better in the end.

The heat, the emotion, the connection between us built and built, until I was trembling with every soft whisper of his lips and every hot drag of his tongue across my skin. Finally, Owen picked me up and laid me back down on the couch again. We both couldn’t wait any longer. I drew him down on top of me, and he entered me again with another long, hard thrust.

And this time, he didn’t stop.

I locked my legs around his waist and pulled his head down to mine. Our lips and tongues and bodies crashed together, and every kiss and thrust fueled our frenzy. We couldn’t get enough of each other, kissing harder, touching longer, pushing faster and faster together.

Then we both exploded, the world shattering around us as we reached our sweet, ultimate release.

We rode the afterglow for a long, long time before our bodies eased apart. I grabbed my black robe from where it had fallen on the floor and flipped it over both of us as a makeshift blanket. Then I wrapped my arms around Owen, holding him even tighter than before. He spooned his body against mine, and I slid my fingers through his silky black hair as his breathing evened out and deepened, telling me that he had gone to sleep.

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