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My breath comes in ragged pants. “I’ve never felt anything like this.”
Sure, I’ve used a vibrator. It gets a regular workout thanks to Ryan and I burn through batteries crazy fast. But I’ve always stuck with the external one. I’ve never tried anything more.
Still, there’s no comparison to having him staring down at me. His blue gaze is trained on my face. Being the sole focus of his attention is intoxicating and exhilarating. Like riding a rollercoaster at midnight after the park is closed.
“I hear you working that little toy at night,” he says. “And every time, I imagine barging into your room and showing you exactly what it feels like to have a man touching you. Bringing you to the brink. Satisfying your every need.”
My body clenches around him, not wanting his thick fingers to leave me. Euphoria dances just out of reach.
“I bought it because of you.” The words leave my mouth as a whimper.
He pauses, stopping all of his delicious motions.
I groan, ready to beg, sob, or plead. Whatever he wants me to do, I’ll do it if he’ll just let me get there.
“Is that true?” There’s something harsh on his face.
I nod.
He lets loose with a string of profanities and resumes touching me. “If I’d known that you were settling for some second-rate toy when you wanted my body, I’d have been all over you, kitten. I’d have fucked you from the first moment I laid eyes on you.”
The words and the way he’s touching me deliver wave after wave of pleasure. They build to a crescendo that causes a rush of bliss through my whole body.
It’s not until he claps a hand over my mouth that I even realize I was screaming and crying out. My whole body is shaking and trembling like I touched a live wire. All the self-serve orgasms before this are nothing in comparison to this moment with Ryan.
He gives me a wicked grin. “Save your voice, baby. I’m not through with you yet.”
* * *
Ryan
Shit, I don’t think there is any sight sweeter than watching my little kitten come because my fingers are buried in her tight pussy. My balls are heavy, and my cock is aching for her. From the release that would come from being with her.
She shivers and seems to realize she’s topless. She tugs at my suitcoat and I shrug out of it, tossing it onto the settee by the door.
Then she reaches for the buttons of my dress shirt.
I realize she’s never seen the scars I keep covered. I put my hands over hers. “I have the body of a soldier.”
She gave me the most perfect thing ever, her body. But mine is different. It’s scarred from years of protecting others.
She frowns. “Does that mean I can’t see you?”
I hesitate before deciding that she’s mine now, which makes me hers. So, she’ll see them eventually.
She resumes unbuttoning my shirt as soon as I drop my hands. Then I’m letting her help me out of it. In the mirror behind her, I catch a glimpse of the ugly scars that wrap their way around my shoulder and bicep, stopping just at my forearm.
It’s hard to hide the deformity. There are clearly chunks of muscle missing from my bicep. The doctors said I was lucky to regain full use of the arm.
She traces the scars with her fingertips. “Does it hurt?”
I don’t have a right to complain about the physical pain. “I watched every man in my unit die that day. But at least, I got a purple piece of metal out of it.” I can’t keep the sarcasm from my voice.
She slides off the sink and kneels on the floor, undoing my belt.
My breathing speeds up. “What are you doing?”
She pushes down my pants and underwear. “I’m thanking you for your service, soldier.”
