I take it slow, though. I promised I would. I’m patient, infinitely patient with Chels.

Because she’s worth it.

She’s clutching my shoulders, her nails digging into my skin, and I welcome the bite of pain. I was so damn afraid I’d hurt her when I first entered her body and I’m pretty sure I did, though I definitely don’t think she’s hurting now. Whatever pain she can inflict on me I welcome, because then we’re equal.

And I like being equal with her. With Chelsea. I like opening my eyes and watching her, learning a rhythm with her, our bodies in sync, my hands mapping her skin, learning just how to touch her to drive her wild.

She’s mine. She might not know it yet, but I can’t stand the thought of letting her go. The nameless, faceless girls—they’re things of my past. Banished forever. I don’t want to be with anyone else.

I just want to be with her.

“Owen.” Her soft, breathless voice sends a shiver down my spine, and I drop a kiss on her forehead before swooping down and kissing her lips. She can barely keep up, her mouth slack from her out-of-control breathing; her br**sts are crushed against my chest and her hands slide down my back, until they settle on my ass and she’s pressing me deeper. “You feel so good.”

Fuck, so do you, I want to scream at her. Too good. Too f**king good. She’s too good for me. She’s definitely worth it, but I’m not worthy. How did I end up with this girl, anyway? One minute I don’t want to be near her because she’s trying to force me to do something I most definitely don’t want to do, and the next I’m chasing after her like a dog in desperate need of attention. I wanted her attention. All of it. All the time.

I still do.

“You close?” I ask, my voice rough, my entire body wanting to be rough. I need to ease her into this so I don’t hurt her, but I’m desperate to unleash everything I have on her. Fuck her hard. Drive her out of her mind. Make her as addicted to me as I am to her.

She offers this tiny little nod and squeezes her eyes shut, as if she’s focusing every bit of concentration within her to make herself come. Her teeth sink into her poor, ravaged lower lip and I bend down, suck her lip between mine and give it a gentle pull. Lick it. Savor her taste, the whisper of breath that gusts across my mouth. I swallow it, wishing I could swallow her.

I’m a man possessed—overwhelmed and confused and full of joy and scared out of my ever-lovin’ mind. What’s happening between us, I’ve never experienced before. I think I know what Chelsea’s feeling and it’s scary as f**k.

But at least we’re doing it together.

Hesitating, I remain still and inhale sharply, goose bumps washing over my skin. A sure sign I’m about ready to blow, though she’s not ready yet. I can tell she’s not. The familiar tingling has formed at the base of my spine, insistent as all f**k, and my balls literally ache.

“Don’t stop,” she urges. The sound of her voice kills me and I drop my forehead to hers once more, trying to gain some control.

“I gotta stop,” I tell her. “If I don’t, I’m going to come. And you’re not ready.”

“I’m ready.” She runs her fingers through my hair, and I really f**king love it when she does that. Her touch feels so good. I want to lean into her hand every time, like I’m a cat or something. “Do what you want, Owen. You won’t hurt me. I’m not made of glass.”

She’s giving me permission to use her. And I don’t really want to, because she’s different. What we share together is so different from what I’ve done with other girls. “But …”

“I already came.” She streaks her fingers down my cheek as shock courses through me over what she said. Look at my tentative Chelsea, saying I made her come.

“I want you to come again,” I tell her just before I crush my mouth to hers. I increase my pace, using her because she gave me permission, but I’m also going to make sure she gets off, too.

Reaching between our bodies, I brush my fingers against her clit. She hisses against my lips and I continue stroking her, keeping time with my thrusts, keeping time with my breaths. With hers. She shudders and moans, licks my lips with her tongue as if she can’t get enough, and then she’s thrusting her head back against the pillow. Her perfect neck is arched, her pink lips parted, but no sound is coming out beyond her sexy little pants of air.

I push harder, wanting her to reach for it. Needing her to reach for it. Because then it’s too late. I’ve found it, my need consumes me as I push inside her once, hard, my orgasm taking over, washing over my skin, my thoughts, my brain, my everything. Fuck, I’m done.

Spent.

She’s shuddering all around me, too, her body clenching around my cock, milking every last drop out of me until I can do nothing but collapse on top of her, exhausted. I think I shouted her name out loud but I can’t be sure. Wade probably heard if I did.

I really don’t f**king care.

Chelsea’s arms are around me, her mouth at my ear. She’s coasting her hands down my back, up and down, scraping her nails on my sensitive skin, and I shiver in her embrace, press my lips against her neck. She tastes amazing. She’s whispering something in my ear that I can’t really hear since my head is still buzzing, my ears ringing.

Fuck. That was intense.

“I’m too heavy,” I tell her, bracing my hands flat on the mattress so I can lift away from her, but her hands press hard on my back, keeping me in place.