Curvy for Him: The CEO and the Soldier (Curvy for Him Series Book 5)

by Annabelle Winters

  Just then I feel a tingle along my inner thigh, and I realize that it’s Edge’s thick semen leaking out of me. The tingle travels up along my butt and lower back, making me frown as I fight to hold my own against this dominant soldier. Somehow I feel that it’s my body whispering a response, reminding me that no other man has made me feel the way Edge did, no other man has brought out the woman in me like he has, that my brain doesn’t know shit when it comes to what’s right for me.

  And then I can’t hold it any longer and I blink. But when I open my eyes again I see that Edge is grinning, and I know that he blinked too! Then we’re both laughing at how ridiculous this standoff was—ridiculous but somehow important.

  “All right,” he says softly, exhaling and then straightening out again. “I’ll take you to your meeting. But if you get killed, I’ll fucking kill you.”

  “Sure. That sounds perfectly reasonable,” I say, rolling my eyes as I hide a smile and walk over to where Edge tossed my clothes. I reach for my still-wet panties, but Edge swoops in and grabs them before I get there.

  “I’m keeping these,” he says nonchalantly.

  “Sorry, what?” I say, cocking my head and raising an eyebrow.

  “You heard me,” he says, turning away and pulling on his fatigues. “You can get dressed now. Go on.”

  “Um, I’m not going anywhere without my panties,” I say, the color rushing to my face.

  “Suit yourself, but these are mine now. Just like you’re mine.”

  Edge is dressed already, and he jams my damp panties into his pocket and shrugs over at me. I’m still naked and staring, not sure what to do. I’ve never left the house without panties in my life! I don’t even sleep without underwear on!

  “Edge,” I say, blinking as I see that he’s dead serious. “This is ridiculous. It’s more than ridiculous, in fact. It’s sick! Twisted! Perverted!”

  He just shrugs again, his eyes sparkling with delight. “OK. So what? I got no problem with being sick, twisted, and perverted. These are mine now, El. I own your panties, just like I own your tight little pussy, Babycakes. Just like I own you.”

  I almost choke as I listen to Edge’s words. I know he’s just toying with me, doing what he did earlier when he called me “honey” just to rile me up. I know I shouldn’t take the bait, but I can’t help it. I’m getting frustrated and angry even though I know he’s just exerting his own dominance, giving in to my demand while reminding me that he’s still in charge, that he’s still the alpha. I want to tell him that he really is a fucking caveman if he gets off talking like that, acting like that, thinking like that!

  But I can’t speak.

  I can’t speak because my body is speaking, speaking in its own language, its voice thundering in my ears like waves crashing into the shore, bringing with it an arousal that takes my breath away. I don’t understand it at first, but when I look up into Edge’s eyes it his me hard.

  This is our dynamic, I realize as I take a step back away from him. This is how we fit together, how we satisfy each other as man and woman and also as independent human beings. In public life I’m a CEO, a leader, a woman in charge. Edge will accept that, understand that sometimes he will submit to me in public, that sometimes he’ll have to compromise so he can help me achieve my goals outside of our relationship, that he’ll do what he has to do so I can do what I have to do. In public, he’ll take a backseat when he has to.

  But in private . . .

  In private Edge is going to own me, I realize, that chill coming back with a vengeance as I see the bulge at the front of his fatigues, see the look in his eye, a look of pure dominance, pure alpha, pure man. He’s going to fucking own me.

  “What are you doing?” I whisper, taking another step back as Edge unbuckles and unzips, dropping his pants and stepping out of them, rolling his underwear down his muscular thighs, his erection springing out in all its glory. He’s fully hard, thick like a log, his cockhead already beading as he whips off the rest of his clothes. He grunts, cocks his head, and then reaches into his crumpled clothes and pulls out my panties, bringing them up to his face and breathing deep in the most filthy, erotic way. Then he tosses them away and strides up to me, his jaw set, eyes narrowed like bullets of ice blue, those sledgehammer-sized fists clenching and releasing with the manic energy flowing through this beast of a man.

  “Edge,” I whisper again, blinking as I think back to when I got the distinct impression that he was holding himself back earlier even when he rammed my brains out of my goddamn head. That was Edge being gentle and tender, I realize as I swallow hard and back up until I’m against the cold wall. But I’m not cold. I’m hot. Hot and ready. My brain is sending panic signals all over the place, but my body is humming with clean, calm arousal even as I hear myself scream as his shadow falls across me like the sun just got blocked out. “Edge. Edge? Edge!”

  8

  EDGE

  “Edge. Edge? Edge!”

  Her screams drive me fucking wild, and before she can say another word I’ve pulled her off her feet and swung her across my shoulder like a fireman. Or maybe a caveman.

  “Caveman,” I grunt as I twirl around the center of the room with El clawing and kicking at me. I spin faster and faster until I hear her gasp and groan with dizziness. I’m dizzy too, but I’m out of my mind with a crazy fucking arousal, a wild need to claim this woman in every way, own her through and through, show her that she’s mine. Fucking mine! “Caveman?” I mutter again. “That’s what you called me, right? Good. Because that’s what I am, Babycakes. A fucking caveman. And guess what, honey? You’re in my cave now. You want to go head to head against me? Fine. I’ll let you win in public once in a while, let you follow your own star, achieve your goals, change the fucking world with your intelligence and ambition. But behind closed doors I’m in charge. When the curtains are drawn and the room goes dark, I’m the fucking CEO.”

  El is still gasping as I carry her over to the far corner of the room, where there’s a stack of standard-issue canvas bedrolls laid out flat. I toss her down face-first, smacking her ass hard as she screams and tries to turn so she can kick out at me. But I’m not having any of it, and I push her face back down and spank her again, harder this time, my open palm coming down tight on the meatiest part of her luscious ass, sending my cock to another level of hardness, making my balls tighten between my legs.

  “Edge!” she howls as I slap her bum again and again, each strike ringing out like a gunshot in the cold armory. Her skin is flush red, my finger-marks streaking her like she’s been branded. I can smell her cunt in the air, and I’m fucking drooling to taste her between those thighs, make her cream for me, make her scream for me.

  “That is my name,” I growl as I grab her hair and stop her from turning once again. “Say it, El. Say my name again.”

  “Edge,” she wails as I push her face down, raise her ass, and spank her good and hard one last time. Then I’ve jammed my face between her throbbing asscheeks, pulling her buttocks wide as I lick her rear pucker feverishly. A moment later I’ve pushed my tongue so far into her asshole she can’t even fucking speak. She’s making this choking, gurgling noise, hunching her body over and gasping as I reach up from below and rub her mound hard and rough, pushing all four fingers into her cunt until she squirts all over my hand from the violence of her orgasm. “Oh, fuck, Edge,” she groans as her body shudders and shakes, her climax rocking her as I roll my tongue inside her anus and curl four fingers inside her pussy as she creams all over these government-issued bedrolls. “What . . . what’s happening? What are you . . . oh God, Edge. Oh, God!”

  “I own you,” I gasp as I pull my tongue out of her asshole and spank her once more with my left hand that’s soaking wet from her pussy. I slide two fingers into her shining dark rear hole, slowly spreading her as I get her slick and wet. She’s stopped struggling, stopped trying to turn, stopped trying to kick at m
e. She’s submitting. Bowing down to me. Accepting that this is who we are, that every successful couple has a dynamic that fulfills one another, and this is ours. “Do you understand, El? You’re mine, and this is what it means to be mine. Do you understand that?”

  I push a third finger into her rear as she groans and then slowly nods her head, arching her back down and raising her ass for me.

  “Do you want that?” I whisper as I massage her red-streaked buttocks until she whimpers and groans again.

  Slowly she nods again, and I smile as I see her asshole relax and open up at my touch, open up for me, for her man, for her forever.

  And without another word I press my cock to her opening, holding her spread with my fingers until I’ve pushed past her rim. She tenses up for a moment, groaning again as I slowly push myself into her rear canal, sliding deep with a steady power, deep into her darkest, most secret place, deep, deep, all the way deep, every fucking inch of me claiming every untouched inch of her. That’s what a soldier does. He claims territory, inch by inch. He claims his territory, and then he never gives it up, never retreats, never lets go.

  And as my massive shadow falls over her beautiful hourglass shape, I look down and see that my hips are right up against her soft cushion, my balls tight against her thighs. Now I know she’s mine. I’ve claimed every inch of her, and I’m never letting go.

  9

  EL

  I let him go as hard as he wants, somehow knowing that I could stop him even though he seems unstoppable, relentless, a beast gone wild. My asscheeks are stinging from the way he spanked me, but the filthy truth is that my orgasm rocked me harder than Edge’s slaps ever did.

  I came again as Edge fingered my asshole and then entered me in a way that made me almost pass out from how I was being stretched. And I think I’m still coming as I feel his cock reach so far into my anus I wonder if it’s ever going to stop!

  But then I feel his heavy balls slap up between my spread-out thighs, and a moment later he’s fucking me in the ass, sliding his slick shaft out and then pushing back balls deep in a powerful, steady rhythm that’s making my eyes roll up in my head. He reaches one arm forward and strokes the back of my neck, sliding his fingers up and firmly fisting my hair from behind. I’m so damned under his control it’s both terrifying and liberating, intoxicating and clarifying, suffocating me one moment, making it feel like I’m breathing fresh air the next.

  I don’t know how long he takes me, because I think I’ve lost track of time. I’ve also lost track of how hard and how often I’ve come, and soon I’ve lost track of my own goddamn thoughts! I’m just floating, I decide. Just spinning through the air. Swimming through a sea of ecstasy. Slowly I realize I’m letting go, truly letting go, letting Edge control me totally and completely, all the damned way. It’s only now that I understand the freedom you find when you give up control to a man you can trust, a man who respects you but doesn’t let that get in the way of indulging his filthiest fantasies.

  That’s what I was missing with all those other men, those nice men who were too timid to let the animal lust in them come out. They were never able to understand that respecting a woman as an equal doesn’t mean you shouldn’t fuck her brains out behind closed doors. It doesn’t mean you shouldn’t inhale the scent of her sex, taste the tang of her pussy, spank her big ass and finger her asshole until she gurgles and gasps and comes all over the goddamn floor!

  Shit, being a woman is complicated, I think with a wild grin as I hear Edge roar and then seize up as he pulls my hair and blasts his hot load deep inside my rear hole, filling me almost immediately until I’m overflowing past my rim.

  Yeah, I think as I come again with a shudder, feeling Edge’s cock drive back in and explode again, like his balls have an endless supply of his seed. Being a woman is fucking complicated . . .

  . . . but trust a caveman to figure it out.

  10

  ONE HOUR LATER

  EDGE

  “How do you figure?” I say, adjusting my sunglasses as the bulletproof, armor-plated Humvee bounces over the fucked up road that’s the main highway leading out of Kabul. The commander was going to send a team with us, but I said there was no need, that we might need every body back at the base in case that wasn’t just an isolated attack. I didn’t tell him that I believed El was the target of that first attack. I was conflicted about it, but I had no proof other than my instincts, and so technically I wasn’t lying or withholding relevant facts. Also, I knew that he’d either deny us permission to leave the base or force me to take a team with us. I don’t want a team here. I don’t want to put anyone else in harm’s way for what I can’t help but feel is a personal mission even though it’s been authorized by my commander. He hesitated, but then said go ahead. It’s usually pretty safe for U.S. military folk to move around the city these days. The Taliban are on the run, and really, when they do attack, it’s usually a strike against their own fucking people! Assholes bomb schools and mosques before they try any shit directly against U.S. soldiers now! I know the enemy, I know the city, and I know these roads. Most of all, I know myself. I’ve always had that warrior’s sixth sense, and I felt it in action when I got El out of the way in time up in the commander’s office. If anyone studied a film of that, they’d see that I actually made my move just before the first bullet shattered the window. A true-born warrior knows what’s coming before it gets there. She’s mine, and I can protect her just fucking fine.

  “Well,” she says, squinting at a map that looks like a printout. “If we take a left up ahead, I think it’s a shortcut.”

  I snort and keep my eyes on the road. “I think I’ll trust the U.S. Army GPS over Google Maps.”

  “No, seriously. See?” she says, shoving the map in front of my face like I don’t need my eyes to drive.

  “Yeah, well I can’t fucking see!” I roar, laughing as I drive right into a massive pothole that makes me wonder if a meteor just rammed into Earth right there.

  “Oops,” El says, giggling as she sits back down and I regain control of the Humvee.

  Finally I glance over at the map and see that she’s right. It’s a bit of a shortcut, and it’ll also cut down on the traffic, which is pretty heavy on this main highway. “All right. Hang on,” I say, cutting across three lanes without giving a shit how many people honk at me and yell for Allah to rain vengeance down on my American ass for being a reckless driver.

  El’s eyes go wide as she slams her palms against the metal dash, turning to me and shaking her head as I grin. “You didn’t tell me you were a New York City taxi driver,” she quips.

  “And you didn’t tell me you were a world-class backseat driver,” I shoot back, my grin widening as I imagine the two of us in a blue minivan back in the U.S., four giggling babies strapped to the back rows, my wife by my side, big-ass McDonald’s full-sugar sodas in the oversized cupholders, the smell of burgers and baby-food in the air. Fuck, am I seriously fantasizing about that now?! Damn, I’m far gone! I said I own her, but she owns me too, doesn’t she?! Hell yeah, she owns me too!

  “Listen,” I say, my voice trembling, my throat almost seizing up when I realize what I’m about to say, what I’m about to ask.

  “Yes,” she says almost immediately, and I almost drive off the fucking road.

  “What?” I say.

  “Yes,” she says again, looking over at me, her brown eyes twinkling like she knows exactly what I’m thinking, what I’m feeling, what I’m about to ask her.

  “Yes what?” I say, feeling my heart pound so hard those potholes on the road feel like nothing in comparison.

  “Yes, I’ll give you my number and you can call me when you get back to the States,” she says, that sparkle still in her eyes, a playful smile on her lips. Playful, but meaningful.

  I go quiet for a moment, and then I understand. Yeah, she knows what I’m gonna ask. She understands that
I want to make her mine in every way, lock her up good and tight, put a ring on her finger and make sure the entire world knows she’s mine. And although I know what she meant when she said yes, I also know that she’s sending me a signal that she wants this done the right way, the old-fashioned way, with a ring and on my knee. Marriage is a public act as much as it is a private, intimate act. I know she’s mine, and I know she’ll say yes when I ask her the question. This is her way of being in control of that part of our relationship.

  This is us, I think as I reach into my hip pocket and smile as I feel her panties crumpled up in there, still damp from her wetness. I look over at her and nod. Then I smile when I see she’s noticed how I touched the panties I seized from her. I got her message loud and clear, but I’m sending my own message back. I’ll play the game in public the way she wants. But in private it’s my game all the way. All the fucking way.

  I’m still grinning as we head down the side road to where El’s got her meeting. We drive in happy silence for a long time, holding hands like lovers drifting down the River Seine. Soon she points at a local hotel coming up ahead. That’s the meeting place, and I nod and prepare to pull over.

  But just then I see movement in my side-view mirror, and I whip my head around and shout out loud when I see a white Jeep with a top-mounted gun careening around the corner after us! What the fuck?! It came out of nowhere! It wasn’t following us—I would’ve spotted the fuckers by now. No way someone can follow me without me catching on.