Captain O'Reilly's Woman - Ashes of Love 1

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Captain O'Reilly's Woman - Ashes of Love 1 Page 6

by Gwen Campbell


  It was so intimate, so trusting the way he allowed her the freedom of his body. Not demanding or directing, he taught her nonetheless how wonderful it felt to touch and be touched.

  The thought reminded her she wanted his hands on her as well. Wanted him to taste her skin and like it. Pressing a last, lingering kiss to his shallow navel, she straightened. Deliberately she dragged the tips of her breasts along his body, loving the feel of him against her and loving the way his eyes darkened and his lids grew heavy.

  As soon as her mouth was within reach, David bent to her and kissed her. He was humbled by the heated way she responded to him, opening her mouth and sucking his tongue in deep. Tasting and twirling then driving hard, their mouths were fully mated under her authority. Who was the teacher now and who the student? Who the CO and who the raw recruit? He no longer knew and it no longer mattered. All that mattered was that they were equal in this. Lovers. Sharing and giving freely and he wrapped his arms around her and drew her body tight against his. Loving the feel of every inch of her, pressed against him so intimately, feeling the heat, the hunger shiver through her when he stroked her tongue with his. He drew the strap of her dress down and smoothed his rough hands across the silky perfection of her skin.

  She wasn’t wearing her dog tags. He’d spotted that as soon as they’d rendezvoused that morning outside of the base. It was a blatant violation. But then so was everything else they were doing. He knew she’d be carrying them, likely in that straw bag of hers. It had been a good idea. The folks in town, they would have spotted them immediately, given that she was wearing that sweet, fitted sundress with the square neck. They would have asked what she did, what her rank was. He hadn’t wanted to expose her to their assumptions and gossip. They’d forgive him anything. But they’d have...expectations for his lover. She was the only woman he’d brought home. He’d brought her home because he wanted her for his wife, for his home to be hers and he didn’t want their first impression of her to be tainted.

  Then David deliberately cleared his head of those thoughts. He remembered that he’d promised her naked. And naked they would have.

  Easing his body away from hers, David let her dress slip down her body. Controlling its fall with his hands, he revealed her body slowly, enjoying the sight of each inch of her flesh as it came into view. The smooth plain of her chest rose and fell quickly. His fingers traced tanned skin, supple and stretched across the delicate rise of her muscles. She was strong, his Samantha. He’d known it already and now the evidence of it was in front of him. It was in the cut of her shoulders, the outer edges of her pectorals, just visible before they disappeared beneath the slope of her breasts. Yet her body was small and delicate, even fragile compared to his, and a thousand times more beautiful.

  He lowered the dress further, revealing the satin-covered swell of her breasts. Her underwear was creamy white and he liked that. Liked the appropriateness of it. Touching the plump, outer curve of one breast, he let the dress drop even further. Her rib cage was revealed, firm, soft and utterly feminine. The taut slope of her belly, the jut of a hip bone. Then he couldn’t make himself hold out any longer and he let the dress drop to the floor. Kneeling in front of her, he kissed her firm, tanned thigh. He ran his tongue over the line, just a few inches below her sex, where her fatigue shorts would end and her tan disappeared, giving way to pale, ivory skin.

  Samantha clutched his shoulder as he straightened. He thought her heart would pound right out of her chest when he kissed her satin-covered mound. She brought her fist down on his shoulder when he kept rising. Quickly, he slid away from the spot she wanted him to kiss again. He ran his mouth over her belly, her ribs, felt a smile form in response to her pique. He laughed softly.

  “Son of a...” she blurted out hoarsely. The voice didn’t even sound like hers.

  “Something you wanted, Corporal?” David teased, mouthing her ribs then tracing the edge of them with his tongue.

  “Yeah—my bowie knife. For starters.”

  “What a savage lover you are, Corporal,” David breathed against her skin. “Remind me to never really piss you off.”

  “...whole damn town full of sex-crazed virgins...”

  His laughter doubled but he ignored her grumbling to enjoy her frustration. Knowing he was exciting her and excitement was making her edgy, and it would make her fulfillment, when it came, sweeter.

  He slid his hands under her arms and lifted her easily. He lay her back on the bed. She watched him, trusted her body to him without question. Her remarkable cinnamon eyes were bright and intent. Her lower lip caught between her teeth as he slowly, teasingly slid his shirt off and dropped it on the floor beside her dress. Lifting her foot, he slipped off her sandal, kissed her ankle then licked the pink polish on her toes. Her beauty was always so artless and he’d been incredibly turned on that morning when he’d glanced down at her feet and realized she indulged in such an intriguing enhancement of her loveliness.

  Then he lay down beside her. He looked at his hand on her belly, how he eclipsed her, rough against her smoothness. Dark and scarred against her perfection. Then, unable to resist any longer, he slid his hand up and held a satin-clad breast. Molding the firm, lush flesh, he felt a tremor take her and heard her breath break. Her sharp fingernails stung the back of his head. Bending to her, he kissed her through her bra, dragged his teeth across her breast then stabbed at her rising nipple with his tongue until she shook.

  Lights flashed before his eyes and he blinked. Samantha lifted her head and looked around the room.

  “Did you see that?” he asked suddenly and stared at a lamp, sitting on a large, wooden night table. All the lights in the room flashed again, twice in a row. He heard an insistent, high pitched beeping sound.

  “Shit on a...” David blurted out. He stared down at his hand on her breast with open regret then stood up and grabbed his shirt off the floor. “Generator kicked it,” he bitched as he drew on his shirt. “And the alarm means there’s something wrong with the electrical flow.” He looked down at Samantha. At her sweet curves, displayed so provocatively and available. He seriously considered letting the whole damn system fry itself out. “We need electricity to keep the water pump working. Call me soft but I like indoor plumbing,” he added with a note of self disgust.

  Samantha sighed but sat up. “Need help fixing it?”

  “No. Ah to hell with it,” David bit out, tore off his shirt again and reached for her.

  “Then get it fixed, troop,” she ordered firmly. Standing up, she retrieved her dress. “Take care of whatever needs taking care of. I’ll be here when you’re done. Trust me,” she added adamantly and got dressed.

  David watched her disappearing curves with a mounting frustration he could barely contain. Then he turned on his heel and hurried out to the utility room.

  Chapter Four

  A little while later, the ladder behind David rattled. He turned around to see the top of Samantha’s head pop above the access hatch on the steel walkway that surrounded the perimeter of the solar-panel field out back of the house.

  “Need anything?” she asked, looking around.

  “Maybe more of that sixteen-gauge cable,” he said, nodding toward the ground.

  Her head disappeared. The ladder rattled again and, in a few seconds, she was back, hauling a length of black cable through the access hatch and setting it on the walkway.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  “I haven’t been here for two years. All the power that’s been generating has been flowing out through the underwater cable between here and the mainland, feeding the main line that goes back into town.” He stripped the ends off two wires, twisted them together and twisted a cap over them then wrapped the connection in electrical tape. “You know electrical systems, they hate being turned off.” He glanced around the solar-panel array. “Other than when the Miller’s came in to open up the place, today’s the first time in two years the house drew power back. Some of the connections fried.�


  Samantha didn’t need to ask if he knew how to fix them. The construction and maintenance of sustainable energy arrays was one of the first things any Army squadron worked on in a community. She’d worked on one or two in her day, only fetching supplies and assisting the more experienced members of her platoon, of course. David had obviously worked with these systems more than she had.

  “Did you build this one?” she asked. Lifting her hand, she shaded her eyes from the sun as she looked around. She would have come onto the platform but she was only wearing sandals, not boots. It didn’t seem like a prudent idea.

  “Uh huh,” David answered absently. Setting the fresh connection into a junction box, he sealed it up before moving on to the next section of panel.

  She liked watching him work. Liked it a lot. The way the sun shone on his tanned skin, his back shimmering with a fine sheen of perspiration. It was hotter up here, between the panels and the steel grating. The thickness of his shoulders impressed her, the way his arms flexed as he worked. His big hands were deft as he followed the connections then pulled them out, one by one, examining them for damage.

  “Shouldn’t be too much longer. Maybe another fifteen minutes or so,” he said, looking over at her. He smiled and the sun caught his beautiful, pale-blue eyes, framed by those dark, luxuriant lashes.

  “Okay. Maybe I’ll just hang out here then. In case you need anything.”

  “Not a good idea,” David said, his head tipping a little to one side and the smile shaping his full, square mouth widened even more. “You’re too big a distraction. You stay there and I’ll be grabbing you instead of that wire. And who knows when this job’ll get finished if I do that.”

  “Oh all right then...party pooper,” she grouched and, one corner of her mouth turning up, walked back down the ladder and set off to explore, enjoying the feel of his eyes on her ass as she walked away.

  Samantha followed a path to a small, wooden building and she stuck her head in the open door. It was a maintenance building. Inside were tools, a lawnmower, an empty ladder rack and a dust-free section of shelving the same size as the toolbox David was using, along with empty birdfeeders and stacked lawn chairs. She moved on.

  Down by the lake she noticed with satisfaction that the romaine leaves were gone. She found a wedge of sandy beach further on, backed by a stone retaining wall with a broad set of steps in the middle. She slipped off her sandals and stood on the shore, letting the wet sand squelch through her toes then waded in up to her knees. She turned back around and noticed small footprints on the sand. Ducks, from the look of them. Maybe a family. A fire pit sat at the far end of the beach. Thinking it would be a great place to sit after dark, Samantha checked her watch. David’s fifteen minutes were up and she walked back to the house. She called out his name. No answer. Knowing he’d be finished soon, she got a soda out of the fridge. He was probably thirsty after working in the sun. Feeling the cans and selecting the coldest one, she carried it back out to the solar array. David and the ladder were gone. She tried the maintenance shed next. Again, no David.

  Heading back to the house, she heard what sounded like rain coming from somewhere down by the boathouse. The sound of running water grew louder and for the first time, she noticed a small wooden enclosure near the back of the boathouse. It was set on a concrete pad and sheltered by trees. Four wood panels, each roughly five foot wide by four foot high were raised off the ground a good eighteen inches. Suspended from a pole at one end was a big, flat, stainless-steel showerhead. David’s jeans and a large towel hung over one of the panels. Above the panels, she caught a glimpse of David’s face, turned up to the showerhead and covered in soap.

  An outdoor shower...cool.

  She walked up to the shower and stood outside the latched door. “Thought you might like something to drink,” Samantha said quietly and grinned when he peered over the top of the enclosure at her.

  “I knew there was a reason I liked you,” he grinned and accepted the tin from her. He ducked his head under the water, rinsed the soap away then popped the ring on the can. He poured some of it down his throat, set the can on top of one of the four corner posts, opened the door and dragged her inside.

  “David,” Samantha blurted out. Trying to dodge the flow of water, she shook her head when she felt the spray soak through the side of her dress. “I’ll get soaked.”

  “Then take your clothes off,” he murmured hotly and reached behind her and, slowly, undid the buttons on her dress.

  Samantha didn’t protest. Especially when she took her first good look at his body. His very naked, very wet body. Her hand went to the thin rivulet of soap that trailed down his abdomen then crossed his hip before sliding down his thigh. There was a tan line bisecting his belly and the pale skin below only highlighted the dark nest of hair guarding his groin. And the long cock that hung down from it. She couldn’t help but gasp. She’d never seen anything like it. Well, she had actually. She was, after all, a medic but somehow David’s penis was different than a patient’s. It began to stir.

  “I like it when you look at me,” David said quietly. “So does he,” he added with a wry grin as his cock began to thicken and grow even longer. And then her view was obstructed as David lifted her dress over her head and threw it over one of the enclosure walls. He touched her satin bra. The thin strap and the top of one of the cups. “Take this off,” he ordered in a deep, arousing tone. He watched intently as she reached behind her, unhooked it and, slowly, drew it off and tossed it over her dress.

  His mouth opened as he reached for her. He fit his big hands to her breasts and molded them carefully. When he stroked her lightly then drew his rough thumb across her nipple, she gasped.

  His cock continued to rise until the tip of it nestled beneath her breasts.

  Wordlessly, Samantha gave in to her curiosity and touched him, smoothing her wet fingers across the head then down the length. He had no foreskin and that caught her off guard. But then she remembered he’d been born before the Great War. Elective surgical procedures like circumcision had been common then. She found she liked the look of his cock this way.

  Samantha sighed in dismay when David bent quickly, pulling himself from her fingers. Then sighed again when she felt his thumbs slip beneath the sides of her panties and, slowly, draw them off her body and toss them aside. He touched her mound as he straightened. Teasing his fingers into her wet curls, he played with them while she resumed stroking his now fully hard cock.

  The skin on it was delicate and intriguing. The way it moved, like satin over granite. Responding to her lightest touch. Suddenly hungry for the taste of him, she leaned forward and licked droplets of water off his abdomen, humbled when he moaned and trembled.

  Despite the water, his skin still tasted like sweat. Salty and sweet and she reached past him and grabbed the fresh bar of soap sitting on a rack beneath the showerhead. Walking around him, she smeared it across his skin. Dragging her nipples across his arm. The curve of his spine as she reached up and caressed every inch of his magnificent, ripped back. With a quiet sigh of pleasure, David settled his hands on the wall of the enclosure and leaned forward, inviting her to explore his body.

  She particularly liked soaping his ass. Then the long, powerful lines of his legs. And when he turned and drew her hands to his cock, she didn’t resist. Her soapy hands slid along his length easily and he showed her how to hold and stroke him. How to cup his balls and tease them with the tips of her fingers until he was moaning and his hips bucked.

  “Ahh, you’re going to make me come,” he breathed harshly, yanking her hands away from him.

  “I want you to come,” Samantha murmured hotly. Nudging his darkened nipple with the tip of her nose.

  “Inside you. I want to be inside you when I come,” David grit out then took the soap from her and slid it down between her breasts. Across one. Then the other.

  “Then take...”

  “No,” David insisted firmly. Stopping the movement of his hands
and staring down at her intently. “No,” he repeated, with an obvious effort at gentling his voice. “You have to be ready before I take you. Especially the first time.” With a slow, deliberate breath, he soaped her stomach then her hips.

  “How do you know?” Samantha inhaled sharply at the feel of his warm, rough hands on her. “Have you...?”

  “Have I made love to a virgin before? Yes,” he answered with naked honesty. “The last time I was a virgin. And I don’t want to talk about it right now.” David lifted his bright eyes to hers and something in them softened. “Ask me later. If you want. My life’s an open book for you, Sam.” He set the bar aside then slid his fingers between her legs.

  Samantha’s head fell back and she sighed wantonly, clutching his shoulders when her knees threatened to give. Nothing had ever felt as good as his thick fingers, stroking her pussy. Caressing her fleshy nether lips. She didn’t know what was wetter—the water drizzling down her body or her. Then she began to shake when she felt a single, rough finger probe the opening to her body and slide into her.

  She arched her hips into David’s hand, driving him deep. Then she gasped and winced when she felt a tiny pain. Even as it faded it radiated into her belly and thighs. Samantha kept her face down, not wanting to show him her discomfort. Or her unease. But David slid the fingers of his free hand beneath her chin and lifted her face to his.

  “That’s your maidenhead,” he whispered. Eased his finger out of her then pushed it back inside. Slowly. Barely penetrating her. Then did it again.

  “Will it...will it hurt?” Samantha asked. Hating the uncertainty in her voice. Wishing she wasn’t scared.

  “Yes,” he answered. “It has to tear when I put my cock in you. But after it’s done, you won’t feel it again.”

 

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