by Frankie Love
When I look down, our eyes meet and a swell of desire rushes over me. "You fit so well in my arms," I say, the truth falling from my mouth.
"I do, don't I?" she says softly, tilting up her chin, offering her mouth to me.
I kiss her then, a kiss that we've been building up to since we met just a few hours ago. A kiss filled with promise and hope and so much fucking desire.
I want her, completely. But I still feel myself holding back. My leg is gone, and I don't know how she is going to feel about a man like me. A man who can't stand on his own two feet.
But for now, that thought fades as I'm wrapped up in this kiss. Our lips part and her tongue swirls around mine and she whimpers against me. My cock grows as the kiss deepens, and the longing for a woman to touch me, see me, take me for who I am, overwhelms me. It's the most primal urge I've ever had--to spread Hannah's legs and fill her up nice and good.
She feels my length, and her hand runs over my pants, the bulge growing as her fingers tease me.
"I want you," she whispers.
"Good," I tell her. "Because I fucking need you."
Chapter Five
Hannah
Our dinner is forgotten as I lose myself in Harrison's kiss. He doesn't kiss like other guys I've dated. No way. With his hands on my back, his lips parted, I know it's because he is the first man who has ever truly held me in his arms.
His embrace tells me he won't let me go.
"Come with me," he says, and I follow him. His hand holds my fingertips and I feel a tingling up and down my spine as I am led to the master bedroom.
We kiss again, it's like we're unable to stop ourselves. I'm ready to be stripped to nothing but my panties--the lacy white ones I bought for my wedding night. I'm ready to feel his hands run over my bare skin and I'm ready to kneel before him and take his long, thick cock in my mouth.
I've done this before, but never with a real man, and that causes my belly to flipflop, my core to tighten. God, I want more of Harrison.
Outside the bedroom, Harrison pulls back and clears his throat.
"What is it?" I ask, wanting to please him. Already I feel like my husband is a hero. He fought for our country and that makes him more than a mountain man; he is a warrior.
"I have to tell you a few things before... before we..."
I glimmer of excitement rushes over me. I wink. "Before we get naked?"
He frowns, running a hand through his thick hair. "Right. The thing is... I..."
"It's okay,” I say, realizing he is apprehensive. "I won't judge you or--"
"Yeah, you will. You'll think differently of me, Hannah. And I already... Fuck."
I tilt my head, trying to read him. Moments ago, he was all strength and valor, and now he is withdrawing.
"Is this moving too fast?" I ask. "I know we aren't married yet, and if you want to wait…"
"No," he says tightly. Then he exhales, shaking his head. "I don't want to wait. That's the problem. I've waited my whole damn life for this moment. I'm taking it now that it's here."
I lift my eyebrows in surprise. This is the last thing I expected. "You're a virgin?"
He presses his hand to his temple, dropping his gaze to the floor like he can't look at me. "Basically, yeah. I wasn't very outgoing in school, then I enlisted and my whole life was my job. I never focused on women. Then I did some tours back to back and when I came home... things were complicated."
"Hey," I whisper, my heart pounding in my chest. He has waited all this time and now he wants to sleep with me? "Are you sure I'm what you want?"
He looks at me with a confused expression. "Hannah, you're more than I imagined. You're gorgeous and confident and kind. I'm blown away by you."
"Then what is it? What's holding you back?"
"I, uh..." He drops his head and his eyes land on the floor. "I'm not exactly... complete."
"What do you mean?" I feel over my head, not understanding the man before me. Usually, a guy rushes to the bedroom, but it feels like Harrison is stalling. And it's about more than his virginity.
"Look, I wanted to marry you before we got to this conversation. But honestly, this is probably for the best. If you want to go, then I won't hold it against you."
"You're making me nervous."
"I'll help you fly back to L.A.," he says. "And we can pretend this never--"
I cut him off. "Harrison, what are you talking about?"
"I lost my leg, Hannah." He presses his palms to his face. "I'm not... I'm not what you were expecting."
I swallow. The limp. The pulling back when I reached to touch his thigh. The complications after he went to war.
"Oh, Harrison," I say, reaching for his hands and forcing them down. "Harry, I'm not going anywhere." Tears prick my eyes as I look into his. He's carrying so much pain and fear of rejection and, God, if he only knew how much of a man he is in my eyes. I've known him only a few hours but already I see something in him that is different. That is special.
"I don't want your pity."
"Good," I say, a tear falling down my face. "Because you don't have it."
"You don't know what I look like," he says, his calloused palm reaching to my cheek. I press my hand over it, keeping it there.
"Then show me," I whisper.
He closes his eyes, as if unable to take in my acceptance of him. I don't know what I am getting into, but I do know Harrison is not like anyone I've ever met, and I want to know more. I want to know everything.
I take the lead and push open the bedroom door. My breath catches as I see a trail of rose petals leading from the doorway to the bed. "You did this for me?" I ask, overwhelmed.
"Too much?"
I shake my head, my eyes filling with tears. "It's kinda like a fairytale."
"Yeah, Beauty and the Beast," he growls.
I look up at him, hating the way he sees himself. "Don't."
"Hannah, I don't know how to do this, how to make you feel like a woman, a bride when I've never..."
I lace my fingers through his and we walk into the room together. "I've never felt more like a woman in my life. I've always wanted a man who would bring me flowers, treat me like I'm something special. That's all you've done since we arrived. You understand respect and I feel safe with you, even though you're practically a stranger."
He gives me a soft smile, stepping closer to me. He may not have experience with sex, but he has tenderness down pat. "Then you'll appreciate the champagne and wedding cake I bought for us to celebrate."
I nod, looking up at him, wanting him to undress me and complete me and make me his in every way possible.
"Yes, I will appreciate that. But first, help me out of these clothes."
Chapter Six
Harrison
When she leads me to the bed and tells me to sit, I do as I'm told. Then she steps back and begins to undress, slowly.
"You don't have to do this, make it a show," I tell her, not wanting her to feel like she owes me anything.
"Harrison, stop. You don't get to complain when your fiancée offers you a striptease and a lap dance."
I lift my eyes, not expecting that. What am I expecting? Certainly not her. I knew I had to tell her the truth because otherwise I'd be pulling off my pants and it would painfully obvious. Still, I didn't expect it to go so well.
She's not what I expected at all.
And now she's pulling off her jeans, her back to me, and she shimmies them over her hips, then she bends over, pulling them down, arching her back, her ass looks so fucking good. When she stands, stepping out of the jeans, my cock gets harder still, looking her creamy body over, imagining her grinding against me, taking all of me inside herself.
She turns around, facing me. "Now your turn," she says. "One item."
I give her a wry smile. "I see. You like to play games."
She shakes her head. "No, I just like to play fair. Besides, a lap dance won't be as fun if we can't get a happy ending."
I feel the heat risi
ng to my face and I’m wondering, it this woman for fucking real? Where on Earth did she come from and how did I get so damn lucky?
I pull off my tee shirt, tossing it aside, and she lifts her eyebrows, her pretty mouth dropping into an O.
"You are seriously ripped."
"I work out."
She snorts. "You do more than work out. You're built, Harrison."
"If I want to survive in the wilderness, I have to be physically prepared."
She slaps her thighs. "Not sure how long I'd last. I tried to do a couch-to-5k once."
"How'd that go?" I ask as she lifts the hem of her tee shirt, taking it off. Her breasts are beautiful, round, and perky, in a white lacy bra that pushes them together. I adjust myself, so fucking hard at the sight of those tits.
She steps toward me. "On the third day, I left the apartment for a run, and ended up at the 7-11 buying a box of donuts."
I shrug. "Donuts are good."
"Yeah, they are," she says, kneeling before me, her hands running over the muscles on my stomach. "But not as good as this." She licks her lips, her gaze running dizzily over my torso, and it gives me the courage to finish what we've started.
She reaches for my belt and undoes it, then my zipper, then she looks up at me. "You're really hard, Harrison. I don't know how you'll get those off." She's smiling, teasing me, but my body is tense with nerves. This is the moment I have been avoiding for years.
"It's okay," she whispers, seeing the pain in my eyes. "I'm here for you. Only you. You're my family now, my everything."
I bite back my emotions. "And if you see me and you..."
"If I see you, Harrison, and decide to leave, you are better off without a woman like me. But I'm not that woman."
"What kind of woman are you?"
She drops her gaze, and I lift her chin, wanting to see her eyes. "I'm scared of never having what I want."
"And what do you want, Hannah?"
"A partner. A friend. A lover." She pauses as if trying to still her shaky breath. "A husband."
Our eyes meet, and I don't know what the future holds, or if she will accept all of me, but at this moment, I accept all of her. I want to be the man she needs; the man she came to Alaska to find.
I want to be her husband, and if I want that, I have to let her in.
I lean down, untying my boots, and she helps me take them off. Then I push off my jeans, holding my breath. Wanting to be enough for Hannah.
I'm scared to meet her gaze once I've taken them off. My cock betrays me, but it’s still held back by my boxers. Her eyes run over my legs, both of them, and I want to squeeze my eyes shut so I don't have to see her as she sees me, but I can't look away. It's like I need to know what her eyes reveal when she takes me in.
She runs her hands over my thighs. My prosthetic begins about a hand’s length beneath my hip bone on my right leg. She studies my body, her fingers running over my skin and the plastic, over the metal limb and my knee, my calf. My foot. She's crying, tears falling down her cheeks and it kills me that this emotion might be because she doesn't like what she sees. What she feels. I'm never going to be able to make love to her in some positions, never going to be able to take her against the wall, or on my knees.
When she looks up at me, I expect to see disgust or disappointment. Instead, I see desire. I see longing.
"You've been through hell," she whispers, her hair falling over her face. I lean over, brushing it aside, and gaze upon her soft features illuminated in her beauty.
"I'm lucky," I tell her. "My friends, they didn't make it out alive."
"I can't imagine losing so much."
The fact that she doesn't say she's sorry right now and that she doesn't shy away from the pain she sees when she looks at me, as well as the fact that she leans in closer, as if longing for our bodies to meet-- it makes me brave in ways I haven't been in a long ass time.
"Does it hurt?" she asks.
"Sometimes more than others. Mostly my skin gets irritated, right here, where the sleeve is. I know, not the sexiest thing to discuss," I say, feeling my face grow hotter as she looks my prosthetic over carefully.
"No, it's fine, Harrison. I see that it looks inflamed. It must get uncomfortable."
"I'm getting used to it. I'm grateful for the technology."
"I'm sure," she says softly. "Doesn't mean it isn't hard."
Our eyes meet, and I know she sees me. Maybe she hasn't been through the same kinda hell as me, but there is a connection here, and it's more real than I would have imagined.
Wordlessly, I detach my leg, knowing I can't make love to her unless it is off. And I set it on the floor, then I reach for her hand. "Come to bed with me," I ask her. "Make me a man."
She shakes her head. "You're already so much more than a man, Harrison. But right now, what I want to do is make you my man."
Chapter Seven
Hannah
I don't know what I expected when he took off his prosthetic leg, all I know is what was running through my mind. Harrison is more than man. More than a mountain man. More than a hero. He is a warrior. He knows what it means to fight for something.
And god, that thought makes me wet. "I want you so badly," I moan, as we inch to the head of the bed. I unhook my bra, wanting his hands to run over my breasts. I lean over him, my fingers hooking on the waistband of his boxers, and I ease them off as his palms roll over my breasts. There is an ache at my core that only he can satisfy, and I run my hand over his long, thick shaft. Now he’s finally exposed, I can see it in all its glory.
Long and thick and so damn big. My lips widen, desperate to taste him, to feel him in my mouth.
"Hannah," he growls, as I scoot down on the bed, wanting to take my husband-to-be in my mouth.
"What?" I ask.
"When you touch me, it feels..."
"What?" I ask, a smile blooming across my lips.
"It makes me feel really fucking good."
I laugh. "Good. But I just remembered. I promised you a lap dance." Twisting my lips, I pull myself up to sit, running my finger over his chiseled body. "How about we both enjoy a little taste to start us off?"
I'm not exactly a woman with a large sexual repertoire, but I do know what we would both enjoy right now.
I turn, offering him my ass, and I slide the silky panties off, then straddle him backward. "That feel okay?" I ask, dropping my pussy to his mouth.
"Oh fuck, Hannah, you kidding me right now?"
"Do you want me to be?" I ask, rolling his balls in my hand, watching as his thick cock grows a few inches.
"No. This is exactly what I want." Then he begins licking me, my pussy wet with pleasure as his tongue begins to explore my cunt.
I open my mouth, taking him in, sucking hard and knowing this is just the beginning. His cock is so thick, and I take him as deep as I can before I start to gag. He may be a virgin, but he knows how to lick my pussy like a pro.
He runs his tongue up and down my slit, causing shivers to run over my skin, then his tongue darts deeper inside my folds, and all I can do is moan in pleasure with his cock deep inside my mouth. I take him more--faster--knowing that what is happening right now is what I really need. What I really want.
I want him to come in my mouth. I want his salty seed to pour down my throat. And then I want to make him come all over again.
All night long, now and forever. I want him to know he is a real man. Heart, mind, body, and soul. And the fact that he doesn't have one of his legs doesn't mean he is any more or any less. He is mine.
"Oh, God, girl," he groans, his hands gripping my ass as I ride his mouth up and down, feel the come as it seeps from my swollen pussy. He is relentless as he mouth fucks me. His beard tickles me, sending shivers up and down my spine, making me feel like a woman. Making me want to be his wife.
I keep sucking him, and I run my hands over his tight balls, over his thighs, feeling where his right leg ends. And a massive rush of desire sweeps over me as I do. He has b
een through hell and back and yet somehow, I am here, on top of him, making him happy, making him smile and laugh and feel safe.
I don't deserve this. So much goodness. I'm just a girl who wants a man to love me. I'm not a hero; I'm just a regular person trying to pull herself up by her bootstraps each and every day.
As Harrison comes in my mouth, his thick cock throbbing as his release explodes between my lips, I'm overwhelmed with him. The man he is and the woman he makes me want to be. One night, that's all we've shared, yet I want to give him my lifetime. All of me.
I had small dreams and aspirations, sure, but as Harrison licks my cunt, sending an orgasm that starts at my toes and hits me straight in my heart, I feel new dreams emerging. Dreams that are maybe bigger than I have ever had before.
Dreams that start with hope. And end with hope. Dreams you can only have when you are safe enough to imagine a life with more.
Tears fill my eyes, and I run my hand up and down Harrison's shaft, relishing the sight of the tiny drop of come at the tip of his big cock. My body rolls with heat as I savor the way he touched me and explored me. The way he took my pussy so completely.
I turn around, wanting more; I haven’t had anything close to enough. I lean down, my lips on his, my sweet come lingering in his mouth, but I don't care. All I care about is his lips on mine, all I care about is kissing him. Every square inch of him. As his hands run down my back, holding my ass, I sit down against his shaft. He's already hard, stiff with need.
"You're making me crazy with desire," I tell him, moaning in pleasure.
A smile crosses his face and seeing it, makes me feel beautiful and wanted and alive.
"You're making me hot and horny," he teases. "All those years of waiting was for you. I was waiting for you, Hannah," he tells me. And I lift up, easing his hard cock inside my willing cunt. I sink down against him, his hands cupping my face, my mouth draws nearer to his. The moment is precious and still, I will treasure it for the rest of my life.