Page 48 of Owen

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Page 48 of Owen

Trying my best not to wake him, peeling his arm from around me, I turn around carefully. The first thing to catch my attention is the pile of my clothes on the marble floor, all neatly folded with my lucky poppy stone sitting proudly on top of them. Owen must have done that because I certainly didn’t.

I have a hazy memory of Owen driving us home. Then I remember greeting Blake and thanking her for staying with Poppy and my mom as I waved her off. She had whispered something about Owen clearly having a magic dick because he’d stupefied me with it.

She’s not wrong.

The last I recall was checking on Poppy before heading tomy bedroom where Owen undressed me, put a clean tee shirt over my head, and then tucked me into bed with a goofy smile, feeling more contented than I had done for months. Clearly, the buildup of pressure, doubt, and stress from training the team, an exhilarating night swim, and then Owen pulling a powerful orgasm from my body exhausted me, sending me into a deep slumber.

I scratch my thick salt-filled beach hair, chuckling at the memory. Yuck, my hair feels nasty.

Pulling my watch off the nightstand, I check the time and sigh with relief, seeing that I still have another hour before I need to get up for work and before Poppy wakes up.

Poppy.

I leap out of bed and look down at what I’m wearing, laughing as no man I’ve ever dated has dressed me before.

I tiptoe down the marble hallway to Poppy’s room, with a heart so happy it feels like it’s skipping, and discover her lying on her back lost in her own dreams, sucking her thumb, her red curls wild. I’m satisfied she’s slept through the night and happy that she seems to have already settled in her new crib and surroundings after just a few days, and any of the doubts I had about moving her here with Mom vanish.

Also, knowing she was fine while I was out reassures me, knowing I can leave her in the safe hands of people I trust. Something I haven’t been good at doing in the past.

Moving quietly out of Poppy’s room and back to the safety of my bedroom, I sneak back into my bed. I lay down on the mattress before feeling restless and side eye Owen. Turning to get a better look at him, I smile from ear to ear, suddenly realizing it’s been a very long time since I had a man in my bed. I’m glad that I held out and waited… that I waited for someone like Owen. He was incredible with Poppy yesterday, taking care of her in ways her father never could. He’s so gorgeous, with a beautiful soul he can’t see for himself.

And I’m feeling a little smug with myself that I made him buy into my woo-woo moon ritual. I wanted to make him feel better and help him uncover his version of happy. He deserves nothing less.

I sigh happily, as I think I might have found mine. Last night was so romantic. Having wild sex under the moon and stars, on the island of love, surrounded by myth and the magic of the goddess, Aphrodite.Wow, what a perfect night.

I can’t take my eyes off him. I cast my eyes down his bleached by the sun, wavy neck-length hair, that frames his face perfectly, making him look like a movie star. I struggle to comprehend how this handsome hunk of a manlikesme. Or so he said yesterday.

I hope he’s telling the truth because he’s the first man I could see myself falling in love with.

While Michael and I had a good relationship, that’s all it was: good. Not great, just good… Okay.

Having never wanted to settle for mediocre, I knew something was missing. Me making the cut for the aerobatic team finally made him snap, resenting my success. That’s what ultimately broke us up. His jealousy got the better of him. Then there is Owen, who thinks what I do for a career is awesome, nicknaming me Hotshot, which I like.

In fact, I love it.

And I like him all the more for putting me to bed and not bolting off in the middle of the night, having just had his wicked way with me; he stayed.

He has one arm raised above his head, making all the sinewy muscles of his chest move as he breathes deeply in and out, and I long to touch him again.

Considering if I should, I nibble on my fingernail, then push my pointer finger under the edge of the white bedsheet. Lifting it, I take a long look at his cock, confirming it’s the biggest I’ve ever seen, and he knew exactly what to do with it. He didn’t need lesson two, like we joked about the other night. With me, he’s not selfish, and with me, he seems honest. I trust him.I think.

My fingers dance along the fringes of the thin sheet, itching to touch his skin, my mouth watering at the thought of taking him in my mouth again.

I mean, everyone else is fast asleep. No one will hear us, will they?Nah.

With the finesse of a prowling lioness on the hunt, I move to kneel between his spread legs, pulling the cover back up over us both.

On a mission, I flick his thick crown with the tip of my tongue, and he groans groggily, his cock twitching.

I start slow, licking his already semi-hard shaft. Never having been one to want to give head before, every part of me wants to satisfy him and make him feel good, bringing all of his fantasies to life. Well, I sure hope this is one of his.

When a long intense moan rumbles deep in his chest, his cock thickens to its full length, telling me he’s enjoying it. Twisting the tip of my tongue around his rim, I run my tongue down and back up along his thick vein, then push him into my mouth.

A waft of cool air bursts across my face as he lifts the sheets. “Fucking hell, Hotshot.” I grin around him as he looks down at me, still half asleep. “Am I dreaming?”

I hum and then suck him hard. His hands cup my face as he pulls his knees up, digging his heels into the mattress.

Letting him fall from my mouth, I mumble, “Be quiet.”Then, desperate to see him come undone, I suck him deep into my mouth, almost gagging as he hits the back of my throat.