The men in her life wanted her to be happy, wanted her to let go of the pain. Wanted her to embrace life. To live.
John couldn’t. But she could.
Owen’s mouth dropped open when she dragged her exploring fingers across the deep red of his bottom lip. So soft.
For now, she’d start with what she knew. “I do want you, Owen. And I need you.” She swallowed. “So much.”
A deep sound of satisfaction rumbled low in his throat and ricocheted down her body. Those soft lips found hers, already open, waiting for his touch. With his kiss, he possessed her. His scent—winter spice and male—filled her senses. His body covered her. She could live on the cool, sweet taste of his tongue. And, God, his little moans and grunts reverberated right down to the wet heat between her legs.
He trailed open-mouthed kisses over her cheek to her ear, sucked her lobe between his lips and flicked it with his tongue. She gasped as goose bumps erupted everywhere and she offered her neck to his exploration.
“I want you, Megan. Be mine. Gods.”
He licked and sucked down her neck. She shivered and grabbed onto the firmness of his sculpted biceps. He nipped at the tendon where neck met shoulder. A moan exploded from her, loud and wanton, but couldn’t be helped. She threaded her fingers into his silky black hair and held him to her. “Again,” she rasped. He teased her with his teeth, then his tongue and lips. “God, Owen.”
She chuckled even as she whimpered at the spine-tingling nips and bites.
“What’s so funny?” His warm breath caressed her bare skin.
“Sorry, it’s just…” She covered her mouth with her hand, humor-induced tears now gathering at the corners of her eyes.
He pulled her hand away. “Never hide your smile from me.”
He pressed kisses to her knuckles, then pinned her wrist beside her shoulder.
She finally reined in her amusement. “I’m sorry. It’s just, I said, ‘God, Owen,’ and then”—the chuckles threatened again—“it hit me that, you know, you really are a god, and all.”
A playful smirk framed Owen’s face. “Are you amused by my godhood?”
She nodded. He thrust his hips into hers, rocking the ridge of his impressive erection against her right where she craved him. Her lips dropped open as she sucked in a breath.
His mismatched eyes blazed. “Still amused?”
She nodded and pressed up against him. Wrapped one leg around his waist and dug her heel into his firm ass. He grunted and ground down on her, just as she hoped he would. Then his mouth crushed against hers again, their tongue intertwining. He drew away with little kisses on the corner of her lips. “I like you amused. Smiling. Laughing. I want to make you feel that way.”
His words wrapped around her heart, mending, binding. She cupped his cheek in her palm. “Sweet, sweet man.” She took a deep breath and a leap of faith. “Make love to me.”
“Gods, yes.” In a flash, he’d pushed up from the couch, lifted her in his arms, and crossed the room.
Butterflies took flight in her stomach. His humor, his gentle kindness, his raw sexuality, his masculine beauty—he appealed to every part of her mind and body. And, maybe, just maybe, her heart.
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... now...
The Winner is...
Sophia Rose!
The Winner is...
Sophia Rose!
Thank you to Laura Kaye and Bewitching Book Tours for providing the Trading Cards and the opportunity to share the signed cards with our lucky winner!
Personal e-mail has been sent to the winner!
Personal e-mail has been sent to the winner!
Enjoy!