“Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?” he asked so tenderly I almost started crying again.
I shook my head and told him I was fine. The agony had already subsided and was now just bordering on uncomfortable, especially as he kissed and nuzzled every inch of my skin his lips could reach without moving a single bustle below our waists. Within a couple of minutes, it was me who started wiggling beneath him, craving something I couldn’t name where we were connected.
Feeling my movements, Owen pressed his lips against mine, rocked his hips back, and then surged into me. I expected the pain again, but with each thrust, I was met with more and more pleasure than the one before it.
“Oh!” I cried out in surprise as his cockhead ran across a spot I didn’t know actually existed. The overfullness I felt was nothing compared to the dash of pleasure.
Raising one of my bent legs, he glided his cock over the sensitive spot again.
“Owen,” I whispered, clawing at his back.
“Fuck, baby, I can feel you clenching around me. You’re so fucking tight. I’m not going to last much longer.” He nearly growled as I shifted a hand between my legs. Now that the bite of pain was gone, all I craved was the hit of a release. “That’s it. Touch yourself. Make yourself come.”
As he sat up on his knees to give me more room to work my fingers, he plunged in and out of my tight sheath, beads of sweat running down the sides of his face and his chiseled chest.
“Shit, sweet girl. I can feel you,” he panted as I rocked my hips against him. “Take what you need.”
Suddenly, flashes of pleasure rocked through my core, and my back arched from such a powerful release. I’d never experienced one that ricocheted from the tips of my toes to the top of my head.
“Yes.” Owen’s moan only dragged out my orgasm further. Something about his naturally deep voice had its own way of sending me over the edge as my pleasure continued.
After a few more pumps, he grunted with his own orgasm, joining me in a well-sated heap on the bed.
I knew I was going to owe my sister a new set of sheets, as the evidence of my lost virginity was now staining these, but I didn’t care in that moment, as Owen rolled my body alongside his, tucking my head against his chest.
“I’m going to draw you a bath, but I need a minute.”
“You don’t need to do that, Owen.”
“Shh,” he said as he kissed me sweetly. “I want to. Let me take care of you.”
From years of school with Owen, I knew there was no point in arguing with him. Instead, I cuddled closer, listening to his heartbeat slow down. If he hadn’t been running his callused fingers back and forth across my arm, I’d have thought he’d fallen asleep.
“I’ll be back.”
Lying in bed contemplating everything I just did and what it meant for me in the future, I watched Owen stroll in and out of the bathroom multiple times.
“Okay. It’s ready,” he announced with his hands on his hips in a superhero stance and a wide grin.
My first attempt at rolling off the bed left me wincing as the soreness between my legs traveled throughout my body. Owen rushed over and lifted me in his arms again, carrying me to the bathroom. I glanced up at him as I gasped.
The tub was filled, and a bowl of ice cream waited on the wooden tray set across the edges of the bathtub. When he flipped off the overhead light, that’s when I saw he’d lit several candles he placed around the room.
“You did all this?”
Setting me down on my feet, he nodded.
“Thank you, Owen.”
“You’re welcome. I found some Epsom salts. Those will help with any pain. I use it in my therapy soaks.”
Unable to help myself, I wrapped my arms around Owen’s trim waist. “Aw… does superstar Owen Ramsey like wittle bitty baby baths?” I cooed at him.
“Shut up and get in the tub, cricket.”
I giggled as he playfully swatted my naked butt. Taking my hand, he helped me step inside the large standalone tub, then surprised me as he slipped in behind me.
“From here on out, I’m sure I’ll only truly enjoy baths that include you,” he murmured as he adjusted his legs on either side of mine, making my heart flutter. “Now, hand me that ice cream.”
“Maybe I don’t want to share,” I said sternly as I noticed Owen stocked the same black-cherry ice cream I liked so much. “This is my favorite.”
“I know,” he replied, reaching around me for the bowl and successfully pulling it out of my hands. “That’s why I’m feeding it to you.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh. Now, open up,” he commanded, and I dutifully followed.
“You’re being awfully sweet,” I mentioned around the second bite of the creamy goodness. My muscles were already loosening from the salts and hot water.
“I’ve always been sweet. You just preferred to argue with me.”
“I did not,” I claimed, earning a chuckle from the man leaning over my back. “Fine. Maybe I did. I liked that you challenged me. Where everyone else seemed to ignore me unless we were causing trouble, I liked that I had your attention. Even though you annoyed and beat me at everything. Everyone else just catered to me all the time, because I was an Easterly. You never seemed to care about that.”
“Your attention was all I wanted.”
The word “love” lingered in the air, but I wasn’t sure Owen even knew that he used it.
Slip of the tongue, I told myself as I finished off the ice cream. We lingered in the cooling water for only a short time longer before we got out.
