Tangled Threads (Page 52)

I moved in to kiss him again, but Owen held a finger up to my lips.

"Wait, wait, are you sure you feel up to it?" he murmured. "We don’t have to-"

I rocked forward again, slowly grinding against him. Then my hand dropped to his stomach and moved lower, stroking him through the thick fabric of his pants, showing him exactly how up to it I felt.

Owen reached for me, and our lips met again. We spent a long time just kissing, just exploring each other’s mouths, reveling in the other’s scent, taste, feel, touch. Finally he reached for me, ready to take things to the next level, but I slid off the bed. I wanted this to last, to be something special, if only for tonight. Because I knew it might be my last, if LaFleur had her way.

My eyes locked with Owen’s, gray on violet, both gleaming with heat, passion, need, desire. I stretched my arms up over my head. And then I started to move.

I did a slow, sinuous striptease for him, curving my body this way and that, shedding one piece of clothing at a time as I went along, letting the fabric float away to the floor. Owen sat back on the bed and enjoyed the show, although the desire burned that much brighter in his gaze, with every bit of myself I revealed to him.

Finally, when I stood naked before him, I held out my hand. He took it, and I pulled him off the bed and up to his feet. Owen started to gather me in his arms again, but I moved around him, still teasing. Sliding my hands this way and that across his chest. Touching him here, then there, lower, harder, softer, gentler, until the muscles in his neck bulged from the strain of standing still.

I moved behind him, running my fingers through his thick, black hair, before pressing a soft kiss to the side of his neck.

"Let me undress you," I murmured in his ear.

Owen nodded and lifted his arms over his head. I made quick work of his sweater, socks, and pants, and soon, he stood there before me wearing only a pair of black silk boxers. They hung low on his lean hips, a dusky trail of hair dipping down below the waistband. I stepped closer to Owen, who watched me through hooded eyes. He knew the teasing game I was playing, and he was enjoying it just as much as I was.

I hooked one finger in the waistband of his boxers, then lightly snapped them back against his skin.

"Hey, now," he growled. "Don’t damage anything you might want me to use in a few minutes."

"Oh, don’t worry," I said. "I’ll take extra good care of you tonight."

I leaned forward and slowly slid his boxers down his legs. Owen stepped out of them and kicked the silk across the room. But I was already moving forward, putting my mouth on his thick length, sucking gently, then harder, my nails running every which way on and around him.

"Gin," he rasped, his hips automatically pumping forward. Owen braced a hand on the nightstand to keep himself in check.

"Now, now," I said in a soft voice. "Good things come to those who wait."

I continued my teasing for several more minutes, bringing him to the edge again and again but not pushing him over it. Owen groaned with delight.

But finally, he had had enough of my teasing. He grabbed my arms, pulled me to my feet, and picked me up. I locked my legs around his waist. He maneuvered me up against the closet wall and gave me a wicked, wolfish smile, his violet eyes as bright and beautiful as I had ever seen them.

"My turn," he rasped.

His lips dropped to my neck, kissing me there, as one of his hands went down between my legs. I opened myself to him, and he slipped a finger inside me, pumping back and forth in a quick motion that drove me crazy with need. He added another finger, and my pleasure only increased, to the point that it was almost painful.

I threw back my head and clenched myself around his fingers, tighter and tighter, trying to find my release. But Owen was just as good at this game as I was, and he wouldn’t let me slip off the edge any more than I had let him before. After several sweet minutes of torture, he pulled me away from the wall and lowered me to the bed.

"You stay right there," he murmured.

Like I had any intention of going anywhere right now.

I took my little white pills, but Owen grabbed a condom out of the nightstand and covered himself with it for extra protection. He reached for me again, but I grabbed his shoulders and made him sit up on the bed. I did my slow grind again, moving up and down on his lap. He wasn’t satisfied to just watch this time. His hands were everywhere on my body, even as his head dipped lower and his mouth latched onto one of my ni**les, scraping the taut bud with his teeth until I groaned with pleasure.

Back and forth we moved on the bed, first with me on top, then Owen, ours hands and mouths all over each other, taking every single ounce of pleasure the other had to give-and then some.

Finally, we came together, Owen sliding inside me, my hands on his back, urging him to go deeper, harder.

"Yes," I breathed against his neck. "Yes."

Then we both went over the edge-together.

Afterward we lay there in bed, a loose tangle of arms and legs. I felt more sated and loved-physically and otherwise-than I had in a long time. For once, all the soft things that I was feeling, all the tender emotions in my heart, didn’t scare me. Not now. Not with Owen. And I had a feeling they never would again.

And most importantly, I could tell he felt the same. It was in the way he kissed me, the way he looked at me, the way he held me, even now, his fingers sliding through my hair, my head on his chest, both of us curled together, each one enjoying the other’s warmth and the simple, quiet pleasure of just lying here.

"So I’ve been thinking about your idea for Christmas," I murmured, lightly running my nails across his broad, muscled chest. "About having a holiday party here."

Owen raised an eyebrow. "And?"

I drew in a breath. "And I think it’s a good one. I’ve already asked Bria to come."

Owen didn’t say anything for a moment. "Are you going to tell her then? That you’re really her sister?"

I nodded. "I think so. Things are getting too complicated with LaFleur and Mab. I can protect Bria better if she knows the truth. I just hope she can accept who and what I am-and what I plan on doing to Mab."

Owen’s arms tightened around me, and he gathered me close once more. "If Bria Coolidge is half the woman you are, then I think she’ll understand everything you’ve been through. You said yourself that she came back to Ashland to find you, to investigate the murder of your mother and older sister."

That was the conclusion I’d drawn the night I’d broken into Bria’s house to keep Elliot Slater and his giants from killing her. Finn had snooped around after the fact and had found something interesting in Bria’s office-a dry-erase board that contained every known detail about the murder of our mother, Eira, and older sister, Annabella. It looked as if Bria had come back to Ashland for the sole purpose of trying to bring Mab to justice for what the Fire elemental had done to our family.