Lost and Found (Masters & Mercenaries: The Forgotten #2)

“I think I should make sure you’re satisfied. I’m not sure how long I’ll last,” he said against her ear. He nipped her lobe, the tiny sting shooting straight to her pussy. “I bet you’re going to be hot around me. You’re already wet for me, aren’t you? Tell me you’re wet and wanting because I promise you, I’m hard as hell and desperate to get inside of you.”

Her hips seemed to move of their own accord. They shifted against his hand, trying to get him to touch her where she needed it the most. “I don’t think I’ve ever gotten so wet so fast. I usually need way more foreplay.”

But now that she thought about it, the last four hours had been a long kind of foreplay. She’d been attracted to him the moment she’d seen him, and she rather thought he’d felt the same. They’d been thrown together. Wasn’t it natural that they should follow the path nature had set for them?

A single finger caressed her clitoris and she had to force herself to breathe.

She’d thought about lightning earlier. This was definitely a storm. Need rolled through her, quick and hard.

“You’re luscious,” he whispered, and she could feel his tongue running along the shell of her ear. “You’re ripe and ready. Relax and let me take you there. Come for me and then I’ll do the same for you.”

He pressed on her clitoris, his free hand cupping her breast and holding her hard against his body. She was trapped and it felt like heaven. There was nothing at all to do except take the pleasure he was offering her.

Her whole body bowed as he pressed down and rotated that single finger. Pleasure swamped her senses and she rode the wave, pumping her hips against his finger, taking every single second of decadent sensation he gave her.

Her whole body felt languorous as she came down from the high of her orgasm. She was soft and deliciously malleable when Owen turned her around.

“Tell me I can have you.” His handsome face was tight as he stared down at her.

Did he think now that she’d had her fun, she would turn him away? She wasn’t even thinking about it. She wanted him. She wouldn’t likely see much of him after this single encounter. They would go their separate ways and he would become a wild, crazy happy memory she could hold onto when the days got long. She wanted as much of him as she could have, and that definitely included his cock. Even in her dopamine-induced languor, she knew she would regret it for the rest of her life if she didn’t have the memory of that hard cock pressing inside her.

“I want you, Owen.” She reached for him even though her legs felt like Jell-O. “You said you were prepared.”

“Fuck all, I am. You have no idea how prepared I am.” He leaned over and kissed her, his tongue tangling with hers, and then he was reaching into his back pocket. His hands were shaking as he opened his wallet and pulled out a condom. The leather wallet fell to the ground, but he didn’t seem to care. He was far too busy tearing open the fly of his jeans and releasing his cock.

She had the briefest glimpse of a truly beautiful cock. Long and thick, it was uncut and jutted out of his jeans. He quickly sheathed it and then her back was up against the elevator wall. He drugged her with kisses, tugging her skirt back up.

“I should get out of my panties,” she managed to whisper.

“No time,” he said as he pressed her against the wall and his free hand simply shoved the sucker aside.

His cock pushed against her pussy and she looked up into his eyes. They were ocean blue and they pulled her in like nothing else could. Not even the sensation of him fucking up into her body had the same effect as those eyes staring down at her. There was some unnamed emotion in his eyes that made her reach up and wrap her arms around him, not for balance or to let him get a better angle. She hugged him to show him her affection, to let him know she was here with him.

Then the desolation she’d seen there was gone, and he warmed up again.

“God, you’re beautiful, Becca,” he said before his mouth lowered to hers and he pressed up inside her. “I knew you’d feel like heaven.”

She was crushed between him and the wall, and she clutched him for all she was worth. She wrapped her legs around his lean hips as his hands found the cheeks of her ass and he physically moved her, sliding her up and down on his cock. Her nails dug into his skin, but he didn’t seem to mind. He nipped at her neck, gentle bites that sent her higher and higher.

She hadn’t thought she could possibly come again. She’d always been a one and done woman, but she felt the delicious pressure build once more. He was big inside her, perfectly stoking the fire. His pelvis rubbed her exactly the right way, and it didn’t take long before she went careening over the edge again, calling out his name.

Owen. Owen. Owen.

God, she would remember that name for the rest of her damn life.

He shoved inside her one last time, his body quaking as he came, and then he was simply holding her.

“I did not expect that.” The words were shaky and deep, rumbling from his mouth across her skin.

She hadn’t expected it either, and that was a good thing. Two years had gone past in a bland fashion, the days flying by without making any real memories.

Owen Shaw was a revelation.

He took a deep breath and lowered her to the floor, her feet finding purchase. She managed to lean against the wall but couldn’t quite work up the will to shove her skirt down.

“Becca, I…” he began, his eyes soft on her.

The phone rang and Owen cursed, turning away. He grabbed it with his right hand as his left managed to tug at his jeans, tucking himself back in. “This better be good, Colin, because I’m thinking about murdering you again.”

Suddenly she didn’t ever want to leave this stupid elevator. Someone could send them food down the emergency hatch. Food and wine and Owen. They could eat and drink and have a ton of sex. The bathroom could be a problem and she would need a shower, but those seemed like minor issues.

God, she was not doing this again. She was not going to confuse good sex with emotional attachment. Nope. This was why she’d taken the two years off, and she was damn well going to learn something from it.

They came from completely different worlds. This had been a moment out of time, and she couldn’t make more of it than there was.

Without another word, Owen slammed the phone down.

The elevator immediately started moving, and Becca heard a squeak come from her mouth. She pulled her skirt down as fast as she could.

Owen grabbed his shirt and dragged it over his head before picking up her cardigan. “Sorry, love. We’re busting out of this place. Here.” He held it out for her, helping her into the plain cardigan she sometimes thought she wore like armor. He smoothed back her hair and placed the sweetest kiss on her forehead. “You look perfectly respectable.”

Something about how chaste that kiss was made any potential embarrassment fly away. This didn’t have to be awkward. It had been the single best sex of her life, and she would think about him for-freaking-ever. She grabbed her bag and turned to the doors as they slid open.

“Thank you,” she whispered, a secret smile turning her lips up. “It was good to meet you, Owen Shaw.”

He was right beside her, their hands brushing but not quite tangling together as they faced the seventh floor. A small crowd had gathered. Her coworker Carter Adams paced at the back of the crowd. River and Jax and the man she’d seen earlier dealing with the moving van were there. He was an attractive man, like Jax, but neither could hold a candle to her Owen.

Not hers. He’d only been hers for a moment, and that was okay.

“And you, Becca Walsh,” he said in that deep, sexy accent.

“We heard you were stuck when we got back from our run. Carter told us,” River was saying as she exited. “I was worried. I would freak out if I spent four hours in that tiny box.”

“I had good company,” she said, her smile widening. “Good night, guys.”

Carter fell in beside her. She should have known he would hear about the elevator. He was friends with Colin. Carter had been one of the first people she’d met when she’d moved here.

He could also be a bit of a busybody.