Somebody's Angel (#5 in a Military Romance / BDSM Romance series) (Rescue Me)

by Masters, Kallypso

  Dear God, but he loved her. If anything happened to her or their babies…he wouldn’t survive another loss of someone he loved. Not an option. He remained riddled with guilt over the loss of his son, despite Joni’s and now Karla’s doctors saying it had nothing to do with their having had rough sex in the seventh month of her pregnancy. He’d go to his own grave knowing he’d caused his baby’s death.

  At least he wasn’t a horny young man ready to deploy without any sense of self-control.

  No, now he was a horny old man. Tonight, he’d do well to remember the discipline he’d learned during twenty-five years in the Corps.

  He set Karla on her feet again, and she molded herself to his body. Fuck. The way his body responded, maybe he hadn’t evolved so far from that horny young man after all. Just the look and feel of Karla’s body made his cock even harder. Being back in this room where they’d spent their wedding night conjured up too many carnal memories.

  Damián had better appreciate Adam and Karla for vacating their own house so his surrogate son could have some time alone with Savannah tonight. He hoped Damián could break down more of Savannah’s walls. They’d certainly made a lot of progress in the dungeon tonight with the slut scene.

  Karla placed a peck on his cheek and went to lift her suitcase onto the bed. “Kitten, put that down!”

  She sighed, and he easily wrested the bag from her and plopped it onto the bed himself. “Adam, why do you keep treating me like an invalid? I’m pregnant, not terminally ill or something.”

  “You know how I feel about you overdoing it. And don’t be insubordinate.”

  “Yes, Sir.” She rolled her eyes and then grinned in a most insolent way. He needed to continue to work on her lack of discipline, but gently. He didn’t want to risk doing anything to hurt her or the babies.

  She unzipped the case and pulled out some filmy, white clothing and wadded it into a ball, keeping her body at an angle so he couldn’t see what she carried toward the bathroom. “I’ll be right back. Make yourself comfortable, Sir.”

  He took the suitcase off the bed and set it on the luggage rack, noticing the bottle of sparkling grape juice chilling in the ice bucket. He’d also had the hotel stock the refrigerator earlier this afternoon with a number of items he planned to feed his bride of almost five months tonight. He remembered verbatim the invitation he’d sent her for this get-away evening.

  Baby Tiger,

  My beast needs to feed tonight. Wear your most demure harem outfit, and I will escape with you to a private oasis where we can enjoy a night of indulgence and romance.

  Your sultan

  The scene he’d planned for tonight was about indulging in food more than sex. He shed his shirt, shoes, jeans, and skivvies and pulled out the robe and sultan’s headgear he wore when they made use of the Arabian Nights theme room at the club. He wished he could see her in one of her sexy red belly-dancing outfits tonight, but all that gyrating couldn’t be good for the babies—or him—so he’d forbidden her to wear those the last couple months. As long as she covered as much skin as possible, including that belly where his two tiny babies resided at the moment, he should be okay.

  Adam would do nothing to jeopardize this pregnancy. Already he felt closer to these babies than he had with his first, primarily because he was present for Karla’s pregnancy. With Joni’s, he’d been training for a mission in the early months and then deployed at the end. They’d wanted a child more than anything, but he had been so focused on doing his job during that deployment he’d felt separated from all that was going on back home. Joni had gone through the last stages of pregnancy and the horrific stillbirth on her own, like she’d had to face so many other things without him.

  Hearing Joni’s voice on one of the tapes she’d left him talking about the regret she felt at not being able to give him a son had caused him to break down and bawl like a baby himself for the son he’d never know. The pain in Joni’s voice—a pain she hadn’t expressed to him while alive—was like hearing the news for the first time. He really hadn’t allowed himself to process the loss at the time it happened, not unlike the way he’d compartmentalized his loss of Joni to cancer many years later.

  This pregnancy was different. He’d been with Karla ever since they realized she was pregnant last Thanksgiving weekend. Since then, he’d done a lot of thinking about what it meant to be a father.

  Sharing Karla’s pregnancy had opened him up to a vulnerability he rarely permitted himself to feel. He had so little control over the lives growing inside her body, which scared the living hell out of him. Helplessness wasn’t something he handled well.

  God, just let these babies be born and live healthy lives. He didn’t have a preference for sons or daughters, but being able to nurture and love two tiny babies he’d helped create with Karla was something he wanted more than anything on earth. He also wanted to live long enough to raise and guide them into adulthood over the next couple of decades.

  He’d told her once he wanted six kids, but in truth, he didn’t think he could go through another pregnancy with her. Hell, Karla hadn’t even delivered these babies, and he was already thinking about the next four. If they had two healthy babies, he’d die a happy man.

  He couldn’t wait to tell her about Marc’s house—soon to be their house. Making do on a Marine’s pension and income from the club wouldn’t have let them even afford the outbuildings of a property like that. He’d checked the taxes and, while hefty, knowing his wife and kids would be in a safe place was worth it. The house would be as safe as he could make it, and that knowledge relieved some of the anxiety he’d carried since finding out he and Karla were about to become par—

  Karla hummed a Middle Eastern tune to herself as she opened the bathroom door. Time to get into sultan headspace. Using a remote, he dimmed the lights in the room. Maybe if he didn’t look at her, he’d make it through the night without losing control.

  Music that conjured up thoughts of Scheherazade spilled from her smartphone, and he turned to watch her undulate toward him.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

  She disobeyed him completely! This belly-dancing outfit might be white and pure-looking, but it was nothing but wisps of sheer scarves over her hips and a beaded bra. Her belly was covered only by strands of pearl-like beads.

  Clusterfucking-A!

  Karla’s more voluptuous breasts nearly spilled from the top of the bra cups. Adam wet his lips.

  Dear God, he wanted her.

  Her hips swayed as she clanged the tiny cymbals on her thumbs and forefingers. Her eyes had been heavily made up. Even though she wore a half-veil across her lower face, her lips shown ruby red through the gossamer material. His dick throbbed, standing in a full salute. He ought to take her over his knee for torturing him like this. Or perhaps torture her in return with delayed orgasms.

  No, he might hurt the babies. He needed to remember them tonight, first and foremost. He felt his hard-on relax a bit. Good.

  Karla definitely would need to be punished for pulling this stunt on him tonight, though. She’d been taught enough discipline to know he wouldn’t tolerate disobedience. His instructions had been explicit—hadn’t they? He probably should have ordered her to wear a burka, covering her body from head to toe. Only one problem—Karla was sexy no matter what she wore. He ground his back teeth together. God had better help him get through this night. She already tempted him beyond all thought and reason.

  Maybe if he deprived her of the orgasm he’d planned for her he might get her attention and make her behave. Hell, why couldn’t she see he was looking out for her and the twins? Why couldn’t she just…

  Karla continued to gyrate her hips, sending the beads and bangles on the hips of her harem pants into a frenzy of motion. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her protruding belly and shimmying hips. He wanted to grab her by her waist and pull her toward him but held back. She removed the finger cymbals and placed them on the nightstand before unhooking one side of the face scarf and then t
he other. She twirled the scarf in the air and trapped him by the back of the head, pulling him toward her. Rather than direct his face to hers for a kiss, she lowered it to her cleavage.

  Adam groaned and resisted the gentle pressure the scarf applied to his head. “Karla—”

  “No talking.”

  He growled. “Don’t forget your place, Baby Tiger.”

  “Oh, I won’t, Sir. My place is to please my sultan with my body and to fulfill all of his needs. That’s all I intend to do tonight.”

  “Tonight is not about you fulfilling my needs, Kitten, but me fulfilling yours.”

  “Ah, then we’re on the same page, Your Excellency. I need this.”

  Ignoring his growl of disapproval, she let the scarf fall around his neck and reached behind to her back, unhooking her bra. He couldn’t help himself. He watched as she lowered the heavily decorated bra, dripping with the strands of beads that had covered her swollen belly, revealing her luscious tits. Breasts, damn it. Her nipples and areolas had turned a dark brown during her pregnancy, sexier than ever. Her breasts were larger, too, as her body prepared to nurse the twins.

  Feeding their babies. Fuck, in a few months, they would suckle at those very breasts. He needed to stop thinking about his baser desires and focus on the purpose her breasts would serve in the near future.

  Keep your hands—and mouth—off them, old man.

  Besides, she’d said they were super-sensitive these days, though whenever she’d reminded him of that, she seemed to be asking him to suck, bite, or clamp them. The woman hadn’t let up in her attempts to lower his resolve the past couple of months.

  When she cupped her tits and offered them to him, he nearly came in his robe. He reached out and brushed her hands away, stroking the soft flesh of her belly as she moaned, bringing his attention back to her face. It had been torture limiting himself when touching her body. Her tongue darted across her upper lip, and his dick throbbed even more. He reached up and brushed the pads of his thumbs across her swollen nipples, and she sucked in a sharp breath. Afraid he’d hurt her, he lowered his hands, but she only took his hands and returned them to her breasts.

  “Please, Sir. I need you to touch me.” Her voice cracked with emotion.

  The Dom in him felt torn between his need to protect her and his need to provide for her needs. The pleading in her voice was his undoing, and he lowered his mouth to take one protruding nipple in his mouth.

  Gentle. Just be gentle.

  “Bite me, Sir.”

  Okay, maybe just a nibble. Not enough to hurt her. He sucked harder and grazed his teeth across her nipple. She grabbed his head and held it to her so he couldn’t move away, as if he’d wanted to. He wanted to be nowhere else. He sucked at her tit like a starving man.

  Fuck! Adam pulled away. He’d been sucking on the tit—breasts, damn it; they’re breasts now—the same breasts his newborn children would be using to gain strength and nourishment. With a groan, he scooped her into his arms and placed her gently in the middle of the bed.

  Time for him to take care of the mother of his child—children—and stop letting his raging hormones get the better of him. He went to the desk and poured two glasses of juice, and then he opened the fridge and pulled out the first course—grapes.

  He placed the plate and the two glasses on the nightstand, glancing at Karla sprawled seductively on the bed. The scarves parted enough for him to get a glimpse of her smoothly shaved pussy.

  Dear God, what was he thinking?

  Control, man. You’re the Dom here. Don’t let her manipulate you.

  Remembering the scene he’d planned for tonight, he stretched out beside her and picked up the plate from the nightstand. He looked for a place to rest it. Normally, that would be her belly, but his babies had swollen that part of her body so much that the plate would tip over, sending the grapes onto the bed. Instead, he laid the plate in the center of her chest. Karla hissed as the cold glass made contact with her nipples. Good thinking. With them hidden from view, he wouldn’t be distracted by her gorgeously full tits.

  Breasts!

  Picking up a large bunch of grapes, he held it to her mouth. “Open for me, Kitten.”

  Her legs opened, and he looked down at her gossamer-covered knees.

  Don’t let her control this scene.

  He growled before delivering a stern warning first with his eyes. “Don’t think I won’t punish you, Baby Tiger.” Her pupils dilated. “And by punish I mean that I can shut this night down faster than you can blink, and I’ll roll over and go to sleep in this huge-ass bed without touching you again.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t.”

  “Don’t tempt me.”

  Karla scrunched her brows together in a cute pout before a slow smile crept over her lips. Somehow he knew he ought to be worried, but she looked so fucking beautiful he couldn’t think straight.

  “Open.” He cleared his throat from a voice grown gravelly with desire. “Now.”

  Like a little bird, she opened her red lips and waited for him to remember the grapes in his hand and why he wanted her mouth open. All he could think of was driving his dick as far down her throat as she could take him. But he hadn’t done that in the past couple months either. She’d probably gag on him the way she used to in the beginning of their relationship.

  When she stared at the grapes, he remembered what the fuck he was supposed to be doing and lowered the bunch to her mouth. Karla yanked one away and held it between her teeth. Slowly she pressed her teeth into the soft yet firm flesh, and his dick jumped. She smiled, clearly having felt him against her thigh. He wanted to feel her teeth on his dick so badly he had to push himself away to avoid all contact with her flesh. Karla bit into the grape, and the juice trickled down her chin.

  Fuck. How could she make eating a grape so goddamned sexy?

  Karla chewed with great deliberateness, her gaze never leaving his face until she swallowed and looked at the remaining grapes in the bunch. He pinched off another and held it out to her. “Open.” Maybe if he placed it deep into her mouth she wouldn’t make him think about…

  Aw, fuck. Don’t think about putting anything deep into her mouth.

  His hands didn’t get the message, though. He didn’t have to tell her to open. She was ready for him.

  His dick throbbed. The goal tonight was to take care of Karla, give her the nurturing she’d been asking for. He wasn’t going to let his little head overrule his big head.

  Adam reached for another grape.

  “Peel one for your sultan.”

  She latched onto the stem end and began stripping away the layers of the white grape’s skin with her teeth. Again, all he could picture was her teeth grazing his dick. After what seemed like an eternity, she had finished but took the peeled grape between her teeth and held it for him. As he bent down to take it from her, she bit it in half, and he gladly shared it with her. After both had swallowed, he took her mouth with his and drove his tongue inside her sweet warmth.

  Don’t think about driving any other appendage into her mouth.

  He pulled back and looked at the plate of grapes again. God, why’d he choose such a big bunch? What else could he pull out of the fridge to feed to her without sending his dick into overdrive?

  Forget the whipped cream. He didn’t want to think about licking frothy cream off her breasts, not to mention her pussy lips. He drew a ragged breath and held the bunch above her mouth. The point of her tongue reached out, and she lifted her head to latch onto one. Rather than pull it free of the vine, she wrapped her lips around it as her gaze locked with his. Then she sucked, nearly causing him to explode all over the bed.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck!

  Maybe Doctor Palmer was right. He wouldn’t hurt her or the twins if he slathered a little whipped cream onto her nipples. Taking the plate off her chest and setting it on the bed beside her, he got off the bed and went back to the fridge. He started to reach for another plate to scoop out some of Angelina’
s homemade whipped cream but decided cold and straight from the bowl would stimulate Karla more. Her nipples were hypersensitive now. She deserved a little discomfort after all the pain and suffering she was putting him through tonight.

  He returned to her side and dipped his finger into the bowl, scooping up a large dollop of whipped cream he then transferred to her left nipple and areola. She hissed at the coldness, then smiled, and closed her eyes.

  Damn if she wasn’t even more turned on—and turning him on.

  Bending over her, he let his tongue lap at the quickly melting cream, surprised at how quickly it had been warmed by her body. He was careful to avoid the sensitive peak, rising up like a snow-covered Mount Evans. She pressed her chest upward toward his mouth.

  Adam licked at her areola, uncovering it one fraction of an inch at a time. Her moan nearly stripped away his resolve to go slowly, gently. All he wanted to do was slam his hard dick into her in the worst way. Instead, reining in his libido, he took her swollen, waiting nipple between his lips and suckled.

  Don’t think about your babies doing this in a few months, old man.

  Separating the sexy woman he’d fallen in love with from the mother of his unborn children was nearly impossible. What was that expression? Something about a woman being a lady outside the bedroom and a slut for her man inside the bedroom. Despite the scene earlier tonight at the club for Savannah, Adam didn’t really get off on calling Karla his slut. But he didn’t mind her behaving like one—for him alone, in private.

  He took her peak between his teeth and bit.

  “Oh, yes!”

  Fuck. He’d forgotten himself.

  He pulled away to assess her eyes. “Sorry, hon. I’ll try to be more gentle.”

  Did she just growl? “You ass, I don’t want gentle. I want my sultan to give me what I need. You know I like it rough, Your Excellency.”

  “Remember your place, Baby Tiger.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Rough sex isn’t going to happen, Karla, no matter how bratty you get. I won’t risk hurting you or the babies.”

  Karla’s gaze spit fire. “Doctor Palmer said we have nothing to worry about. As long as I’m comfortable with it and we make some concessions for my enormous belly, we can do anything we did before. And I’m very comfortable with the way we had sex before, Adam.” She paused a moment. “Please!”