Chapter 10

Ten

The air between us felt different, heavier, as though it carried an unspoken promise. Owen’s eyes lingered on mine, his expression softened in a way that made my stomach twist. There was no malice in his gaze now, only something terrifyingly close to reverence.

“You’ve fought me so hard,” he murmured, his voice low, intimate. “But I’ll show you, Kira. I’ll make you understand.”

I swallowed hard. I wanted to pull away, to curl into myself, but I couldn’t move. His presence loomed over me, pinning me in place as effectively as the cuffs had.

Owen’s hands found my hips, his grip firm but not harsh as he settled between my legs. My breath hitched as he leaned down, his lips brushing against the curve of my hip. The touch was feather-light, almost gentle, but it sent a jolt through me all the same.

“Do you even know how perfect you are?” he asked, his voice muffled against my skin. I wanted to laugh, to tell him how absurd that sounded, but the words caught in my throat. Instead, I lay there, frozen, as his mouth moved lower, pressing slow, deliberate kisses along my inner thigh.

My pulse thundered in my ears as his lips brushed against the most sensitive part of me. The first flick of his tongue drew a sharp gasp from my lips, my back arching involuntarily. I hated the way my body betrayed me, the way heat pooled low in my belly despite everything.

Owen’s hands gripped my thighs, holding me in place as his mouth worked against me with maddening precision. Every swirl, every gentle suck, sent waves of sensation coursing through me, each one more intense than the last. My breaths came in shallow gasps, my hands clutching at the blankets beneath me as I struggled to hold on to some semblance of control. It was embarrassing how soon I was about to lose it.

“Let go, Kira,” he murmured against me, his voice dark and velvet-soft. “Don’t fight it. Don’t fight me.”

The tension inside me built to a breaking point, and when I finally shattered, it was with a cry that echoed through the room. My body trembled beneath him, my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath.

“One,” he said softly against my heated flesh, his voice sending another shiver down my spine. I opened my eyes just in time to see him press his lips to my inner thigh, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin before he bit down gently, then sucked harshly, leaving a mark. As soon as the bruise started to form, he let go and sucked my clit back into his mouth.

His mouth was relentless, working me into a frenzy with a skill that left me gasping for air. Every lick, every nip was a new wave of pleasure crashing over me, threatening to pull me under again so soon after the first. I was still riding the wake of my orgasm, my body overly sensitized, every touch amplified tenfold.

"Owen, I-I don't think I can—" The words tumbled from my lips, a desperate plea born from the overwhelming intensity of it all. But he wasn't listening, his focus solely on driving me to the brink once more.

The flat of his tongue pressed against my clit, the firm pressure sending a jolt of electricity up my spine. He traced slow, deliberate circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves, each one making my thighs tremble and my toes curl into the mattress.

My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer even as my hips bucked, seeking an escape from the relentless onslaught. But he held me firmly in place, his hands gripping my thighs with bruising intensity as he continued to devour me.

I was panting now, my breaths coming in ragged sobs as I felt the coil of tension tightening within me again. It was too much, yet not nearly enough. I found myself chasing the release I knew was just out of reach, caught between the desperate need for it to stop and the irresistible pull towards another climax.

"Please, please," I begged, not even sure what I was asking for anymore. My voice was hoarse, the words barely more than a whisper, but he heard me. Heard and understood the depth of my desire.

Owen's response was a low growl that vibrated through me, adding another layer of sensation to the overwhelming symphony he was conducting with his tongue. He slid one finger inside me, then another, curling them in a beckoning motion that hit a spot so deep it stole my breath away.

The combination of his fingers and mouth pushed me over the edge, my orgasm ripping through me with an intensity that left me boneless and gasping for air. My vision blurred at the edges, white-hot pleasure coursing through my veins as I came undone beneath him.

I was still trembling, still caught in the aftershocks, when he withdrew his fingers and pressed another kiss to my inner thigh. This time, the sting of his bite was a sharp contrast to the gentle lapping of his tongue, and I cried out as he sucked hard enough to leave another mark right next to the first.

"Two," he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. I could feel the warmth of his breath against my damp dark skin. And when he dipped his head to taste me once more.

Within seconds I could feel the pressure building, my clit throbbing with each relentless flick of his tongue. It was too much, the sensation overwhelming, too sensitive, and I found myself squirming, trying to escape the relentless pleasure.

But Owen was having none of it. His hands slid under my ass, lifting me easily off the mattress, his fingers digging into my flesh as he held me in place. I could feel my back arching, my weight resting precariously on my shoulders, my ass high in the air, my legs drawn up towards my chest. The position was awkward, uncomfortable, making it hard to breathe, each inhalation a shallow gasp that did little to ease the growing dizziness in my head.

I was exposed, vulnerable, completely at his mercy as he continued to feast upon me. Each stroke of his tongue, each gentle nip of his teeth, drove me further into a spiral of overwhelming sensation. My vision blurred, the room spinning around me as I felt the coil of tension building once again deep within my core.

I was dimly aware of the cool air against my heat, the wet sounds of his mouth on my flesh, the low, satisfied hum that vibrated through me with each touch. I could feel myself teetering on the edge, my body trembling with the effort it took to hold back, to resist the inevitable surrender.

And then, with a skillful flick of his tongue, Owen pushed me over the edge. My third orgasm hit me like a freight train, my body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure washed over me. My ears were ringing, my heart pounding in time with the pulsing between my thighs, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps that did nothing to fill my aching lungs.

I was barely coherent, my thoughts scattered and fragmented, as Owen gently kissed my inner thigh once more. His lips lingered on my skin, his teeth grazing over the sensitive flesh before he bit down, hard enough to draw a cry from my lips and leave another mark to join the others.

“Three,” he counted out loud, his voice filled with a dark satisfaction.

I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. My body was spent, my mind reeling from the whirlwind of sensations and emotions he’d dragged me through. All I could do was lie there, my wrists limp at my sides as he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to my lips.

And when he dipped his head to taste me once more, I knew I was his to command, to pleasure, to torment. Owen was a maestro, and my body was his instrument, each note he coaxed from me a testament to his control, his power. I could do nothing but surrender to the symphony he created, my body a conduit for the overwhelming passion he so effortlessly ignited.