Commander

by Sienna Snow

  Goosebumps prickled my skin and I let out a low moan.

  “Now this is unexpected.” He traced the henna-style tattoo that ran from the back of my shoulder to the left curve of my bottom. “I don’t remember seeing this before.”

  “That’s because we were too desperate to fuck yesterday to even think about getting me naked.”

  “I remember that weekend at Jacinta’s estate you wore a bikini.” There was a ting of possessive irritation in his tone. “And it did very little to cover your assets.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “That weekend I wore a sheer cover-up in a similar pattern to my tattoo so you wouldn’t have noticed.”

  Nearly two years ago, Ashur had crashed a weekend gathering at Jacinta’s family estate. It was supposed to be my place to recover from the fallout of my work in the No Bride project. Jacinta and Samina had rallied around me and forced me to relax and recuperate. We’d barely spent an hour relaxing by the pool under the spring sun, when Ashur had shown up to join the festivities.

  It was during that weekend I learned I wasn’t truly over him.

  Ashur followed the design in slow, soft glides of his fingers. “When did you get it?”

  “Ten years ago.” I hoped he wouldn’t ask me why I’d gotten the ink or why I’d chosen the design.

  If he knew I’d wanted the tattoo to feel closer to him after he’d gone missing while deployed, he’d know this was more than business between us. He’d know I’d…I wasn’t ready to go there.

  “It’s beautiful. It reminds me of that drawing I made you when we went to Galveston for a picnic.”

  I kept quiet, just focusing on his touch and not his words. Galveston, Texas wasn’t one of the prettiest beaches in the world, but for me it was a special place, reminding me of a time before I’d lost my innocence.

  “Now face me and then take off your bra.”

  I followed his instructions, reaching behind me, unclasping my bra, and dropping it to the ground.

  “God, you’re fucking gorgeous.”

  His praise gave me a sense of happiness I hadn’t expected.

  “Cup your breasts. Offer them to me,” he ordered.

  Without thought I following his instructions, holding my large mounds in my palms and lifting my chest toward him. He bent his head and closed his lips around one taut nipple, biting the tip, in an exquisite pleasure-pain. The soft wet heat of him engulfed me as he rolled his tongue around the aching nub, laving it and teasing. Sensations shot through every nerve in my body.

  I gasped, closing my eyes and throwing my head back.

  He slipped a hand behind my back, leveraging me toward him, and repeated the delicious torture on the other breast. I gripped his shoulders, writhing in bliss.

  When had my breasts become so sensitive? I was on the verge of coming. This had never happened to me before.

  “So responsive. I knew you’d be this way.”

  “Ashur, what are you doing to me?”

  “I’m making love to you, baby.”

  I opened my eyes and reached out to touch him, but he shook his head and stepped out of my reach.

  “Ask.”

  I bit my lip. He’d been serious about the boss-in-the-bedroom thing. But wasn’t that what had attracted me to him in the first place? His control, his dominance, his knowledge of what I needed.

  “May I touch you?”

  He pulled his white T-shirt over his head, revealing his perfect ink-covered torso and pecs.

  Dear God. I wasn’t the gorgeous one, he was.

  Lifting my hand, he placed it over his heart. The heat of his skin seeped into my fingertips.

  He stared into my eyes and the emotion I saw there destroyed me inside. “Do you want me, Tara?”

  How could any sane woman not want him?

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  “Good.” He lifted his hand, freeing mine. “Touch me.”

  He wouldn’t need to repeat himself. I ran my hand up his shoulder and alone his arms in feathered strokes. Up and down, letting my fingers memorize every plain and valley.

  Goosebumps prickled his flesh, and it satisfied me to know he had the same reaction I had whenever any part of him connected with my body.

  I stroked his pecs and abdomen, enjoying the quickening of his breath. I followed the winding tattoos covering the left side of his body. They were so intricate, so unique, so similar to the one covering my back. There was meaning behind all of it, one filled with history and pain, something I wouldn’t bring up to mar the moment. I tried my best to ignore the slightly puckered skin hidden under the long tongue of a winding cobra but the need to comfort got the best of me and I kissed one of the long, jagged marks.

  Ashur inhaled deep and clenched his fists at his sides.

  Immediately I pulled back. “Am I hurting you?”

  He cupped my face. “No, baby. I’m just sensitive there.”

  “Will you tell me about it one day?”

  “Yes, but not tonight. Tonight is about us. Not the past.”

  I continued my exploration of his upper body, enjoying every little flinch of his muscles and the increased rhythm of his breath.

  Just as I moved to cup his straining cock, he grabbed my wrist.

  “No more petting. I want to fuck you. My cock has barely gone down since I watched you come apart in the lavatory, and any more of your gentle torture will drive me insane.”

  “Then fuck me, Ashu.”

  Ashur smiled, lifting me into his giant arms, and crawled onto the bed. He set me down with a gentleness that was a sharp contrast to the need radiating from him. Rolling to his side, he unfastened his buckle and pants. He pulled them down his long legs one at a time and then dumped them on the floor. He boxer briefs did nothing to hide the cock bulging against the cotton material. Next went his underwear, and he was there in all his naked glory. His cock glistened with pre-cum, curving past his belly button.

  How he kept all that delicious manhood in his pants was a wonder.

  I licked my lips. I couldn’t wait until I got a taste of his velvety hard length in my mouth.

  “Stop staring at my cock. I’m barely holding on as it is.”

  “I can’t help myself.” I came up on my arms. “I want to suck you off.”

  He groaned. “Not helping. Next time.”

  He came toward me, grasping my ankles and tugging me in his direction. He took hold of my underwear and ripped it from my body, making me gasp.

  He spread my thighs, opening me to his heated gaze. His arousal spurred mine. I cupped my breasts to ease my need but all it did was make me crave him more.

  He rolled his cock up and down my cleft, mixing our juices together. The engorged head of his erection rimmed my weeping pussy. I lifted my hips to engulf him but Ashur held me in place.

  “I say when I fuck you. If I tell you to wait, then you wait. From this moment, I own your pleasure. No getting yourself off unless I give you permission.”

  He rubbed his cock up my folds again, circling my swollen, sensitive clit.

  My back bowed and I growled. “Ashu, please.”

  “Do I make myself clear, Tara? Do you accept every moan, every contraction of your pussy belongs to me?”

  “Yes. I belong to you. No one but you.”

  He slammed into me and immediately my mind clouded with an insatiable need to come, and a guttural cry of desperate hunger escaped from my mouth.

  Ashur’s knee dipped onto the bed and his weight and body surrounded me. I wrapped my legs around his waist, tilting my hips to meet each thrust.

  My nails dug into his back, and he let out a hiss. The next thing I knew, he’d captured my arms and pinned them above my head in the tight grip of one palm.

  He loomed over me, panting and pounding in my aching core. We kissed as he thrust, letting our bodies slide against each other.

  He kept a hard, steady pace that had me shattering moments later. I convulsed and contracted around him. Clenching my eyes tight, I reve
led in the intensity of my release.

  My focus had barely returned before he brought me up again.

  For a man who was supposedly hanging on by a thread, he had impeccable control. I orgasmed another two times, and with the last one he followed, calling out my name and pumping his hot cum deep inside me.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I stepped into the kitchen of the cabin, a little before seven in the morning. No matter how exhausted I was or how hard I’d tried, I couldn’t sleep. Maybe it was all the craziness of past forty-eight hours keeping my mind active. Or the fact that a sexy-as-sin man slept in my bed. Whatever it was, I had to get my ass up when I’d started counting the chirps of the birds outside my window in hopes of lulling myself to sleep.

  Tightening my robe over my naked body, I stepped farther into the room. A yawn escaped my lips and I lifted my arms and stretched high, trying to release some of the aches in my body. My muscles were sore, but it was a good kind of sore. Ones achieved from four rounds of bone-melting sex.

  Last night, Ashur had taken me as a man who knew what he wanted and how to get it. The sex wasn’t the innocent-and-gentle lovemaking I’d had with him when we were oh-so young, but all-consuming and filled with a passion and dominance I’d never experienced before.

  I gripped the counter near a set of windows and licked my lips as a slow hum began to beat deep inside me.

  Seriously, Tara. Get a hold of yourself. You’ve gone years without needing sex and now you’ve become a fucking nymphomaniac. Stop thinking about his cock. You’re the first lady, for God’s sake. Keep your shit together!

  I shook my reprimand from my head and gazed out the window toward the Colorado River. Birds flew about, and their feathers shone brightly against the glow of the sunrise. Two deer raced past the fenced yard of the cottage’s gardens, jumping over the bushes without a single pause.

  God. Never in a million years would I have thought I’d spend my honeymoon in a remote cabin, albeit a very large one, in the woods near Austin, Texas.

  I was the furthest thing from outdoorsy. White sand beach, swimming in the turquoise water, and sipping cocktails was more up my alley.

  But there was a beauty to this area I’d never appreciated in all the years I’d lived in Texas. I felt a sense of peacefulness, something I hadn’t experienced since…I paused, thinking about when I’d last felt calm or peaceful. Had it been so long that I couldn’t remember?

  Well, shit. Ashur had fucked my brains out enough to allow me to enjoy woodsy nature. What was the world coming to?

  We’d always been opposites. Where he enjoyed camping, I loved a spa. I was high fashion and he was sports and outdoors. And then there was his obsession with high-end scotch, whereas give me a bold Brunello, and I was in heaven.

  One of the few topics we agreed on was our mutual love for all things meat. Give us a juicy filet and we were in heaven. It probably had to do with the fact both of us were Texans.

  I wasn’t sure how long I stood at the counter gazing out the window, but I moved when my stomach made a very un-first-ladylike rumble.

  I glanced at the phone on the wall and then decided against calling the compound staff to bring breakfast.

  For years, I’d cooked for myself, and it wasn’t as if I’d forgotten how to feed myself, even with all the fancy dinners and galas of the past two years. Besides, it was something I enjoyed wholeheartedly. No one would ever think that hardnosed, take-no-one’s-shit, human-rights attorney Tara Zain…em…Tara Kumar would enjoy watching cooking shows and making the delicious meals she saw on television during her alone time.

  Maybe Ash still remembered.

  For the short summer we’d been together all those years ago, I’d made many a dish for him to try. Some had failed epically and others had come out phenomenal successes. I’d remembered how Ashur had complained he was going to gain too much weight, all the while stuffing his mouth.

  I sighed. What had happened to that sweet and thoughtful man? I couldn’t have been the cause of him becoming so hard or the asshole as he’d like to call himself.

  Then a vision of the tattoo-covered scars that ran along his abdomen and shoulder came to mind, and I knew it probably had more to do with all that he’d experienced during his tours in the military.

  I knew I’d been the reason he’d joined the military. He was trying to escape the memories of me, and because of me, he had nearly died.

  I flinched inside. I couldn’t go there.

  I walked to the satellite radio console and selected a station. I needed some old-school hip-hop to keep my mind from thinking too hard. As I selected my station, I smiled and began to sing along. There was nothing like 90’s Salt-N-Pepa.

  Ameera and I used to dance around our apartment when we were between assignments to let off steam. We had an eclectic taste in music that had no rhyme or reason. Our only steadfast rule was that whoever chose the music had to start the dance-off.

  God, I missed her. Soon. I’d see her and then deal with whatever the future held for both of us.

  You hang on, Ame. If I have to bring you back myself, I’ll get you home. I won’t ever give up.

  As the music kicked on, I refocused on the task of making breakfast. I searched the pantry and cabinets, gathering all the ingredients to make hazelnut chocolate French toast, something I knew Ashur enjoyed. Samina had told me that she was so glad I taught her how to make the breakfast indulgence. Especially since Ashur would require her to make the dish whenever he visited her in Seattle.

  Setting each item on the island, I pulled out the mixing bowl and created an eggy batter with the right amount of vanilla and cinnamon for the gourmet bread I’d use to concoct my masterpiece.

  I danced around the room, gyrating my hips and rapping the lyrics of “Push It.” After a few minutes of trying to imitate the moves from the 90’s videos, I scooped out a hefty serving of hazelnut spread into a glass container.

  Taking the spoon out of the chocolate, I stuck it in my mouth and moaned. This was heaven. I reached for the frying pan and jumped.

  A bare-chested, impeccably chiseled Ashur, wearing only a pair of low-lying pajama pants leaned against the doorjamb, watching me with an intensity that made my already rapid heartbeat jump to an even faster rhythm.

  “Don’t stop on my account. The cooking show is spectacular.”

  “Ashur,” I gasped, pulling the spoon out of my mouth. “How long have you been there?

  A smile tugged his lips. “Long enough.”

  I felt the heat creeping up my body and setting like flames over my cheeks.

  “Still love 90’s hip-hop, I see.”

  He rose from his perch on the wall and walked toward me.

  “What’s not to love? It’s fun and makes a girl want to dance.” I backed up as he advanced, and I found myself caged between the island and Ashur’s hard body.

  He plucked the spoon from my hand and glanced at the bowls on the counter. “Were you making French toast for me?”

  “Maybe.” I pressed my fingers to his chest, watching him warily.

  He gazed into my eyes with a soft look and then said, “Thank you. Sam tries but she never could make it the way you did.”

  “Want to do this with me? This way you can make it whenever the mood hits.” I tried to duck under his arm, but he crowded me against the counter.

  “No. I’d rather do something else.” He lifted the spoon he held, dipped it in the container of hazelnut spread, and then ran it down the slope of my throat before dropping it back into the bowl.

  “Like what?” I asked, feeling arousal pulse to life inside me.

  His bent his neck and then licked along the path the chocolate coated my skin. I let out a moan and arched into his touch.

  He lifted me onto the counter, pushing all the bowls and utensils to the other side of the island.

  “Like have my breakfast.”

  Ashur untied the belt holding my robe closed, pushing it off my shoulders and exposing my naked body
underneath. The fabric pooled at my arms, but when I moved to free my hand, Ashur shook his head.

  “Leave them right there.” A wicked gleam entered his gaze that made my pussy flood with desire. “Now flatten your palms. I don’t want you falling.”

  “What are you going to do if I move?”

  He reached over and grabbed the container of the hazelnut spread next to me.

  “It’s simple. I won’t let you come.”

  I lifted my chin. “I don’t need you to make me come.”

  “Yes, you do, Tara.” His voice grew gruff and he brought his face a hairsbreadth from mine. “Your orgasms belong me and I won’t share. The only time your hand gets to pleasure your body is if I’m watching.”

  His words had my core clenching as my nipples beaded to hard points.

  “I see the idea appeals to you.” He pulled back and stirred the contents of the bowl with the spoon.

  I licked my parched lips, focusing on the tented front of his pajama bottoms and said, “As it does for you.”

  My breath was coming out in short pants, and goosebumps prickled my flesh. I felt the urge to slide off the counter, coat his cock in the spread, and blow his mind.

  I jumped as a cool droplet of chocolate drizzled onto my shoulder, making my attention return to Ashur.

  “You’re going to make me sticky.”

  Another glob of hazelnut fell into the valley of my breasts and over my nipples and down to my glistening sex. “That’s the point. I want you sticky, wet, sweaty, writhing under me, and begging me to let you come.”

  “Ashu, are you going to keep talking or are you going to do something?”

  Ashur growled, dropped the container and spoon onto the counter with a sharp rattle, and cupped my chocolate-covered breasts. He massaged the mounds and then pinched the tips as he brought his mouth down to nip the buds with his teeth.

  I cried out as he engulfed a nipple in his mouth.

  “Does this answer your question?” he murmured as he moved to the other breast. “Now be a good girl and let me enjoy my morning wakeup.”