Owen gave her that cheeky, lopsided smirk and hung his head to the side. His eyebrows rose in his trademark, cocky, come-hither attitude. She didn't say anything but rather pushed her body tighter against his, wiggling as she did so, her covered center rubbing against his abdomen.

She ogled as his eyes dilated before she felt his legs speed up towards the bedroom. He kicked the door with his foot and closed it the same reckless way.

Owen felt his breath shorten with every moment, gazing into her wide, green eyes. He studied her face, couldn't believe that he was holding her again, that she was allowing him to.

He missed her.

Goddamn it, he missed her.

Owen figured that even if they didn't do anything, he'd be fine. He was content with this: holding her, follow the dust of freckles on her skin, feel her warmth, bury his face in her neck.

And he would do just that, but she squirmed once again in his arms. Her torso colliding with him, halting every chivalrous thoughts in his brain. For tonight, at least.

He adjusted his hold on her derriere before he took quick strides towards her room. Owen held her eyes, unwavering, blunt in their lewd intentions. She chewed on her lip, fighting off a grin as he groaned, kicking her bedroom open.

He crowded her against her door. Owen felt hypnotized by her. As she was to him.

Claire moistened her lips and felt smug when his eyes followed the movement. The dark specks permeated the malachite hues in his eyes, until they resembled black jades.

"So, what do we do now?" She whispered, teasing him. Her fingers were playing with the little hair on his nape.

Something must have snapped inside him, he groaned before crushing his mouth to hers again. Her bare feet touched the carpet as he dragged down the zipper of her dress, which still remained on. Claire felt the touch of the summer air on her back before Owen's hands connected with her skin. Her fingers were shaking as she unbuttoned his shirt. Her hands frisked over his torso once it was off, desperate to feel the warmth of his tough skin.

"Christ! How d'you get this thing off?!" He complained against her chin, pawing at the fabric, trying to get it off her.

Claire laughed and reached behind her nape to unclasp the tricky clips. Good thing the gauze on her palm didn't cover her entire hand, because if it had, her fiddling fingers wouldn't have completed the task (in that case, Owen would have had no choice but to rip it off her, and she would have let him. Designer dress be damned).

Owen then helped her slide the dress and her underwear down to her feet. He kept his hold on her hips and regarded her in the same way that had always made her weak. His thumbs were lingering on the dip between her waist and her rib cage.

Claire had always been fascinated with how someone could convey their feelings through their eyes. Yes, she was used to stand out in the crowd with an infamous and intimidating sense of jurisdiction. Everyone would either go along with her or concede.

But with Owen, it had been a novel experience. He was the first to meet her ice cold stare and resist, rebel against everything she'd dare accuse him of. He was now looking at her like he would rather have the ground swallow him up than back away or parry; like he was trying to take her all in, everything and all at once. And still it wasn't enough.

Suddenly, his hands trekked slower, gentler, as though he was touching one of the fragile fossils he had been studying in the lab, with extreme care and careful analyzation.

"You…" he trailed off. "You look like a dream come true." He confessed, smiling that boyish, almost-nervous smile that stopped time for her altogether.

Claire grabbed the back of his neck and pulled herself to him. He was smiling through their kiss, making her heart, even giddier than it already was.

His hands welded wonderful sparks on her skin, coursing through every inch, every crevice, every nerve ending. An ever-bright, burning flame ignited within her, making her more needy than she already was.

Owen's arms went to the back of her thighs before she felt the soft touch of her sheets. She moaned once she felt his whole body pressed against hers. He interlaced their hands together beside her, and his tongue trailed down her jaw, her collarbones, before licking the line of her sternum. He released her hands when he trekked lower. Claire held a hand to her forehead, feeling flushed and breath heaving.

She arched her back when his avid mouth closed around her breast, sucking and tugging hungrily. She tried raising her hips to grind against him, but he had pinned her down; she couldn't move. Then, Owen felt the need to explore her with more than just his mouth. He released her hands and went to massage her breasts, pushing them up so he could lap his skilled tongue across them. Claire's hands immediately went to his hair, clutching tightly. His right hand started traveling south and Claire felt the anticipation of what was coming, overpower her.

Owen fondled her heat, drawing circles through her folds for what felt like an eternity. Claire chased his hand, whining when he continued his teasing ministrations. She then raised her hips, causing the finger outlining her folds to slip inside her.

They both gasped— her in pleasure, him in surprise. Owen released her areola and relaxed his forehead against her cleavage, swearing. She hummed, combing his hair. Her hips rocked with his fingers, moaning loudly as he made a specific corkscrew motion that always sent her reeling. She couldn't think, gasping a series of swear words combined with his name. Claire felt his grin against the underside of her breast before he added another finger, and she almost cried out.

She hauled him up by the hair and crushed their mouths together. Her tongue battled against his— tasting, claiming, domineering. His fingers pumped inside her, his thumb kneading her bundle of nerves. Her mind went blank. She moaned another curse, grinding her leg against his.

"Owen, please." She rasped, opening her legs wider, hearing him grunt once more. "Please—"

He continued prodding her nerves, his skilled fingers exploring her walls. His tongue swirled against a hardened pink nub on her breast, adding more to the stimulation. Claire grasped anywhere she could reach, not wanting to float away.

"You're so fucking beautiful like this. Always. Every goddamn time that it takes my breath away." She met his dilated pupils when he rested his forehead against hers before she shattered, white heat covering his fingers.

She heard him cuss before air swooped between their bodies, leaving her shivering. Before she could process what was happening, she felt his tongue stroking her, lapping up her release.

"Ah!" She cried out, her nerve endings on fire. Her nails carved his shoulders, her body bowing off the bed. He sucked as gently as he could, his hands kept her thighs apart.

"Pa—pants… Pants off. Now." Claire breathed. Owen shook his head and replied with a crude tongue going inside her. She bucked her hips, whimpering when he paid no mind to her request.

"No… No, Owen. I've waited… I've waited long enough." She tried again, pulling him up by his chin.

Owen caved, but not before dragging his tongue on a straight line up to her lips. Her hands fumbled with his slacks, fingers following the outline of his zipper.

"Don't do that." He grunted, licking the pulse by her neck when she finally wrapped her hand around him.

"Why not?" Her thumb spread the moisture on his tip down to a protruding vein.

"I don't… want to… I don't want to… " he stammered, gasping against her ear, totally wrecked. Claire continued pumping her hand, marveling at the size of him. "Ah, fuck me."

"That's the plan." She smirked, before flipping them over and straddling him, her center pressed against his abs. Owen grabbed her hips as she ground back and forth, her body gyrating deliciously atop his.

Claire would never get tired of this view.

He was breathing frantically, his mouth open, eyes closed. Claire continued her teasing, loving the way he was the one at her mercy now. His hands slithered upwards to her stomach, then her breasts. His tender yet hungry attention fueled a blazing fire in her that only he could evoke.

But she could only take so much. And so could he.

Owen extended an arm to their side, reaching for the condoms that he remembered he had left in her bedside drawer all those months ago. Claire removed her hands from him to completely remove his pants, his hips tilting up as she slid them off his legs.

Her trembling hands found his erection, covering it with the rubber and pumping once, twice, thrice. And a rightful squeeze. Owen winced, his hand tightening around hers, stopping her attempts.

"I can't… I can't last long, Claire." He warned, yanking her down to him, her chest pressed against his.

With a needy whine that she couldn't believe was coming from her, Claire crashed her lips to his. Her pelvis ground against his navel, and his rough hand kneaded her backside, before he flipped their positions. The sassy remark Claire was about to say expired on her tongue when Owen slid into her without hesitation. Her breath caught in her throat, her head tipped back in pure, naked pleasure.

Owen stilled for a moment, his arms holding him up. He had his eyes scrunched closed, knuckles white, hands fisting the sheets beside her head. She could see the restraint stitched on every inch of his sculpted face. He was trying to prolong their pleasure as long as he could.

Feeling wanton, she clutched his thigh, nails digging on skin, prodding him to move. His audible choke was harsh and triggering. Claire tried moving her hips to gain friction, but Owen dropped his entire weight on her, impeding any movement, his forehead resting against hers. His breathing fizzled, sweat saturated the tips of his hair.

But she needed him now. Like she had never wanted him before.

"Please." Claire pleaded, her nails digging into his back, leaving red, angry marks, wanting him to be closer. "Please. I've missed you."

Owen growled and gave a particularly hard thrust that made her eyes roll to the back of her head.

Yes.

With a slow, agonizing precision, he pumped into her. His hands grabbed her knees and pressed them to his sides, keeping her close. Claire lifted her hips, rolling them against his when he pulled all the way out. And in again.

"You feelin' this?"

Claire bit her lip, completely bereft of speech. She threw her head to the side, her breath short and shallow. The bandage covering her hand was rough against his skin as it grasped every hard, rippling muscle. Owen then grabbed both her arms with one hand and stretched them over her head. He leaned up, kissed her injured hand once again before ramming his pelvis into hers in an unforgiving, unbridled, mindless passion.

There was perspiration rolling down his neck and Claire craned her head, following the droplets' trail, his scruff coarse under her tongue. She sucked on his shoulder as Owen drove into her, grunting a series of curses as he did so.

"I've missed you. Fuck." He mumbled against her shoulder, hips snapping against hers, gaining speed. "I've missed you so fucking much I thought I might go crazy."

Claire whined in response, hips lifting on their own accord as he drilled deeper into her. Owen released her hands, dropping his head to suck on her neck, collarbone and her breasts, leaving a rich pattern of love bites on her ivory skin.

She pulled his face upwards, smashing her mouth to his. He was moaning her name, brazen tongue outlining her teeth and lips. She whispered lustful affirmations, goading him to sink into her harder, deeper, faster. Claire wrapped her arms around his shoulder blades, both her knees resting on his obliques. Owen held them there, fingers digging into her thighs. A low guttural growl emanated from his throat.

He nuzzled her earlobe, then a hand freed her thigh before she felt it trail down. Claire whimpered. His fingers scraped her bundle of nerves and she almost kicked him. His chest bubbled with a low chuckle. He peppered kisses on her temple, eyebrows, cheeks and nose before she heard him whisper, "Look at me."

The unmistakable urgency and demand in Owen's voice made her acquiesce to his request.

His deep green eyes filled with passion, lust, reverence and adoration hypnotized her, evoking that strange but wonderful emotion she had tried to evade all these years.

His fingers stroked her cheeks, his thumb grazing her lips as if he was engraving them in his mind for posterity. Like he wasn't sure if she was real, this, them.

"I'm yours." Claire found herself reassuring him, her bandaged palm curling around his wrist. "I'm yours, Owen."

He pressed his forehead against hers, eyes scrunched tight, his lips parted a mere inches from hers. She arched her back, closing her eyes as he took her with him to nirvana.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

There ya go. Thank you for reading. :)