Owen Moreland supported her as she got up, and Amelia Clarke let him carry her upstairs.
Entering the master bedroom, Owen gently placed her on the bed, patted her cheek, his voice somewhat hoarse, "I'm going to take a shower."
Amelia understood what he meant and blushed as she nodded.
It had been almost ten days since the last time. In her recollection, Owen had always been quite strong in that regard. Enduring for nearly ten days was probably his limit.
Thinking about it, she found it somewhat unbelievable. Owen had said she was his first woman; she couldn't imagine how he got through his past thirty-some years.
Amelia got out of bed and walked over to the coffee table to pick up Owen's watch, which he had just taken off. It was just after nine in the evening, not very late.
About five or six minutes later, Owen came out with a towel wrapped around his waist.
