MY PLEASURE WILDCAT

KARIMA HEART

"You have a girlfriend... and she’s at home right now, remember?" I managed, my voice tighter than I intended.

I shoved the plastic bag Victoria had given me between us like it was a shield. I didn’t even know when I grabbed it, instinct, maybe. Anything to block whatever reckless thought was flashing in Owain’s eyes.

"Yeah, I do," he murmured, his voice low and rough. "Don’t need you to remind me." His gaze dipped to my mouth before snapping back into my eyes. "But I can always make you next… if that’s what’s bothering you."

The lazy curl of his lips was pure trouble. His fingers closed over mine, dragging the plastic away with a slow, deliberate pull. He didn’t break eye contact, not even when his other hand slid the bag somewhere behind the chair. The sound of it sliding down was faint, but the heat rolling off him wasn’t.

Then he was right there, close enough that I could feel his breath fanning over my cheek. His chest brushed mine as he leaned in, his voice a whisper that vibrated through me.

The thought of what Malcom said about staying away from Owain started crawling back to me. I didn’t need him to tell me how dangerous Owain could be… but right now, danger didn’t feel like something I wanted to avoid. Not with him this close.

His hand slid higher, fingertips grazing the edge of my thigh. I could feel my underwear already below my thigh. My eyes widened, maybe in anger, maybe in something else entirely, because I hadn’t permitted him… at least not out loud. But my mouth stayed shut. My body? That was another story.

"You should step back," I said, even though I could hear the way my voice betrayed me. It sounded more like I was telling him to continue.

He didn’t move. If anything, his gaze deepened, pinning me in place. "I could," he murmured, "but it doesn’t seem like you really meant that."

Heat climbed up my neck as his touch grew bolder. My breath hitched, and for a split second I forgot how to think. Almost like whatever moral reasoning I had left flew through the window.

"Owain," I whispered, the sound far too soft to be the warning I intended.

He leaned in, his lips brushing mine without claiming them. "Say my name like that again," he whispered, "and I’ll forget how careful I planned to be."

A rush of something fierce took over me. My right hand fisted in his shirt, clutching like my balance depended on it. My other hand slid over his wrist that was already glued inside my cl*t, not to stop him… but to keep him there.

I didn’t recognize myself anymore—the sharp gasps, the way my body leaned into his every move, the way my mind melted at his nearness.

"Yeah, that’s it," he murmured, his voice like smoke curling into my ears. "Wild cat."

"Please," I breathed before I could stop myself. "F*CK me"

His smirk was devastating. "You don’t sound desperate enough."

That snapped my eyes open. I grabbed him by the neck and pulled him closer, pressing his hand against my chest so he could feel the racing beat beneath my skin, and the hardness of the tit. His fingers traced slow, taunting circles there, and my knees almost buckled.

"My pleasure, wild cat," he whispered.

The air between us burned hotter. The chair shifted slightly beneath me as it slid down a little. His mouth found that space, where it screamed for more, circling round it, and for f*CK's sake, he s*ck*d it, the wet feeling of his mouth... D*mn did something to me... I almost thought I lost a part of me that hadn't felt this way before.

I gripped the chair so tightly until his lips claimed mine. It wasn’t gentle, it was the kind of kiss that made my grip tighten, my thoughts scatter, and the rest of the world disappear.

He thrusted in slowly at first, until his hands found my chest, squeezing hard, until he lost control.

That was it… I could swear I was already somewhere above the clouds, breathless and undone. He slowed again, teasing this time, drawing it out just enough for my body to c*m completely.

I exhaled sharply when he finally moved back. My pulse was still racing, my mind a blur, but his gaze had already shifted toward the rain-slick window as he adjusted himself.

"Guess the rain cooled down already," he said casually, like nothing had just happened.

I didn’t answer. I only adjusted my gown, keeping my eyes away from his. My throat felt tight, so I cleared it, but it came out more like I was stalling.

"Do you need something to clean up?" His tone was almost polite, but there was that lazy undercurrent, like this wasn’t the first time he’d said those words to someone.

I shook my head, still refusing to meet his eyes.

"Let’s try our luck with the car again," he said, reaching for the keys.

I turned my face toward the window as the engine roared to life on the first try, like it hadn’t just stranded us minutes ago.

"Wow. Luck’s on our side."

God, just shut up, Owain, I screamed in my head. The space between us felt too small, pressing in on me until the air turned awkward and heavy.

The drive back was silent... Dead Sea silent. Exactly what I prayed for.... He didn’t act like anything had happened. Just kept the music low while I sat there, lost in my own head, staring at the passing streets.

When he finally pulled into the garage, I didn’t wait. I pushed the door open before the car even stopped rolling and slammed it behind me before he could step out. My feet carried me straight inside.

And as if the night wasn’t already stacked against me… there was Malcom. Standing dead center in the sitting room, his posture stiff, his eyes locked on mine as if he was holding himself back from exploding. Yasmin lay asleep on the couch, a duvet wrapped neatly around her, definitely Malcom’s doing.

"Where the hell did you guys go, Karima?" he asked, his voice low but sharp enough to slice through iron, his eyes blazing with something I couldn’t quite name, maybe anger, suspicion… or both? I don't even know.

I froze, my legs glued to a spot. My mouth opened but no words came.

"I asked you a question!" His tone snapped like a whip.

My stomach dropped. My heart followed.