The Right to Bear Arms: BBW Military Paranormal Romance (Wild Operatives, #1)

by Vivienne Savage

  “I’m not delicate. I won’t break. Russ, please, please,” I begged, gripping at his upper arms. At my request, he surged forward anew, claiming me deep and hard. I shuddered beneath him and hooked my other leg around his hip, clinging with both hands to his shoulders.

  The next thrust shook the headboard against the wall. He didn’t give me the chance to recover, every stroke fast on the heels of another. Over and over he rolled his hips, slamming into me, fucking me until I writhed beneath him. Each staccato bang accompanied my breathy cries for more. I moved beneath him, raising my hips, grinding against him, and burying my fingernails into his shoulder until I was sure to leave crescent shaped divots behind.

  No part of my body remained neglected for long while Russ made love to me. His hand slid beneath my thigh, squeezed, and delivered a playful slap against my ass. He kneaded the flesh within his hand and lowered reverent kisses to my breasts. By the time he found my lips again, I was ready to melt.

  “You’re so perfect,” he confided in me. “I’ve wanted to kiss you like this for weeks.”

  “You’re so big... so big,” I breathed out, desperate for something, anything to say to him in return. The building pressure was too much, unbearable tension stretching inside me. His huge cock filled me so tight that the slightest bump of his body made contact with my clit. His low, sexy growl set my soul on fire. I was right on the edge and nothing but the greedy, fast-paced strokes of his dick could quench the need I had for him.

  “Come for me, darlin’,” he breathed against my ear. Passion thickened his voice until I could tell he was pushed to the limits of his restraint and close to coming, too, holding back until I had my climax. Each piston of his dick made stars explode in my vision, introducing me to an ecstasy I’d never experienced with Michael. My ex-husband thought he was God’s gift to women — but Russ was a true gift given to me.

  “Russell... Oh God, oh God!” My back lifted from the sheets and every muscle tensed.

  His hot and frenzied rhythm faltered, telling me he was close. Each groan from his lips was heaven to my ears, the most beautiful music, the sound of a man soon to join me in mutual satisfaction. The grunt of my name accompanied the most mind-blowing climax I ever experienced. The tension snapped with one burst of pleasure and I lost myself to pure sensation. Russ’ fingers tightened on my hips and he pounded against me with increasing urgency until I felt him swell in release. I never came with a man before in a mutual orgasm. All I could do was cling tight to him and ride it out.

  At the end, my arms became limp and heavy at my sides. I tried to raise one hand to stroke down his chest, only to sigh in contentment when Russ pulled me near.

  “I don’t think I have any words that wouldn’t be an understatement,” I murmured against his shoulder. “Amazing.” My entire body seemed to float as my eyes drifted shut. Tremulous aftershocks rippled along his cock, squeezing him to a timed rhythm. He lingered until the last pulse ended, then groaned and shifted inside me, as reluctant to part from my body as I was to fall asleep. I wanted more of him.

  “There’ll be more where that came from in the morning.” He must have read my mind. The warm chuckle he gave afterward made me tingle all the way to my toes.

  “Thank you, Russ... tonight was perfect.”

  With the blankets pulled above us, I buried my face against his throat and let my dreams carry me away.

  Chapter Five

  ~Daniela~

  The insides of my thighs and my hips were bruised. After awakening, I had crawled from the empty bed and examined myself in the bathroom mirror. Then I showered again, donned my borrowed t-shirt, and sought out my new lover.

  I found Russ sitting on the deck with a mug of black coffee in his hand. I had learned he drank it dark, strong, and with only a couple spoons of sugar.

  “Morning,” he greeted me with a faint smile. I raked my eyes over his half-naked body. A pair of boxers and nothing else clothed him, which meant my eyes immediately zeroed in on the little slit opening in the front, hoping to catch a sight of his cock. “You sleep well?”

  “Mm. Must have. I feel great.” I ran my fingers through my drying hair and tried to tame the damp curls.

  Russ didn’t seem to care that I looked like crap. He set his coffee down and tugged me into his arms. I breathed him in. He smelled good, his scent striking me as something familiar even though I couldn’t place it in my memory.

  “Why are you out here alone?”

  “Trigger needed to go out, and I didn’t want to wake you if I could help it. The power must have come on again sometime during the night.” He glanced through the kitchen’s window pane at the flashing digital numbers above his stove.

  “I like to spend my mornings on my back patio, too. I, uh, have a regular bear visitor. You ever seen him wandering around out here?”

  Russ glanced over the yard. “A bear, huh?” He stroked his stubbled chin thoughtfully.

  “I Googled a little. I think he’s an American black bear. I saw him every day for a couple weeks and then... one day he stopped visiting. I know it’s silly, but I’m worried about him.”

  “Sweetheart, he’s a wild animal. I’m sure he’s off somewhere climbing a tree or doing whatever bears do,” Russ assured me.

  “But what if someone shot him?”

  “I don’t think bears stay in one place for so long, Daniela. That’s probably why you haven’t seen him.”

  His words didn’t convince me. My frown deepened a little more as I stepped into his kitchen and threw together brunch. I ruined the first batch of eggs when Russ eased into place behind me and flipped his t-shirt above my waist. His hands skimmed over my ass, and with one foot, he nudged my stance apart.

  “Russ... I’m cooking,” I attempted to warn him. His lips descended to the back of my neck and one hand moved between my legs. He played with my pussy, using dexterous, strong fingers to glide over my clit.

  “Russ... what are you...” Butter popped in the skillet as the smell of burning eggs reached my nose. I barely had the focus to turn off the stove before his middle finger delved into my body. “Russss,” I hissed out between my teeth. I didn’t just want his dick, I craved it, desperate to connect our bodies in intimacy again. Using protection had never occurred to me — I’d gotten an IUD over a year ago, terrified of carrying Michael’s baby in the final months of our marriage.

  Something told me Russ wasn’t so worried about that. And while we hadn’t discussed it between us, I was sure he was clean, too. Maybe I was placing too much faith in him, but I believed it when he told me there had been no woman since his wife.

  “How are you so good with your hands?” I groaned out, tilting my head back and rocking my hips to the motion of his fingers.

  He didn’t answer. His thick cock brushed against my folds, and then his hips snapped forward. He buried himself within me in a single thrust, filling my body and making me whole again.

  Russ moved me away from the stove and faced me toward the wide island instead. I gripped the counter edge and bent over it. With this new position and his big cock, he penetrated deeper than I was accustomed to receiving. The unfamiliar sensation stirred something indescribable inside me, bouncing against the end of my tight channel without mercy. He introduced me to pleasure and pain, quick and bright sparks of discomfort that faded into bliss on every stroke.

  “I could spend the entire day like this with you, discovering every way I can make you scream.”

  “I love it when you talk that way.” My sweet boyfriend, the southern gentleman, said the sexiest things. Thank God we made it official to continue dating. I guided his free hand beneath my shirt to my breast. He circled his finger around the tip until it stiffened to a hard point. I wanted it in his mouth, and at the same time, I craved the way he took charge and claimed me from behind. With Russ, it wasn’t a demeaning position used to exert dominance over me. It was pure and primal lovemaking, his heavy balls slapping against my clit with each thrust.

&nb
sp; “You’re wearin’ too much to be in this house,” he muttered against my ear. His voice sent shivers through me, and before I could protest, he had grabbed the bottom of the t-shirt and tugged it up until I raised my arms to facilitate its loss.

  In the sunlight streaming through his kitchen windows, there was no hiding my imperfections. My curls tumbled over my bare shoulders and down my back. Through his glass patio doors, I could see only a faint hint of our reflection. His larger frame hovered above me from behind, a huge bear of a man and every bit the example of physical fitness. He made me appear tiny by comparison despite my thick curves.

  “You’re so beautiful, Daniela. Fuck.” He grabbed a handful of my ass and slapped it until it jiggled. “I love this.”

  I was already about to come, and he’d barely even started. My trembling thighs and tensed body were the first indication he received, and then on his next stroke, I orgasmed hard. My pussy clenched around his steel-hard length, milking him and urging him to join me. I felt him stiffen behind me, burying his face against my skin while stubbornly resisting the lure.

  “Russ, oh God, baby, please...”

  “Not yet, sweetheart.” He nibbled my shoulder and continued his slow strokes through my release. “I want you to do that again. I want you to come so hard for me that you’ll never want to wear another scrap of clothing in this house.”

  “Again?” My voice squeaked up an octave and earned his affectionate chuckle. An honest orgasm had come so rarely with Mike that I had become accustomed to faking it. Two climaxes in one session seemed like a fairy tale, despite my lover’s apparent experience. The promise of another orgasm made my body clench around him again in anticipation. He churned through it, teasing me with shallow dips and the occasional forward snap that planted him fully inside me. When those happened, my eyes rolled in my head and I almost fainted against the kitchen island.

  He pinched and teased my nipples, treating them to the textured tips of his fingers. The rough scrape of his callouses made me whimper out loud. “Russ... Russ...” I groaned low, rocking with and without him.

  Russell wasn’t satisfied until I was sobbing out his name and tightening around him anew. His long and deep strokes stimulated me in a wholly different way, angling against my cervix. The building pressure made me writhe and groan for more.

  I reached back to seize a handful of his hair, unable to do anything more than hold him in place, scream his name, and frantically throw my hips back and forth to ride the crest of his movements.

  “Don’t stop, don’t stop!”

  Russ nipped my ear. The husky growl from him was as animalistic as his tireless pacing. He filled me again and again, spearing my body at depths I never experienced before. Then he pinched my nipple, stretching it, introducing me to a hint of pain. The sudden sting struck as the ideal contrast to my pleasure and the two sensations merged together.

  The moment was too intense, and I felt as if I were shattering into a million pieces that would never be whole again. My walls spasmed around his dick in a series of shockwave contractions, clinging to him the entire time I came. The sensation was different and alien, pulsing through my core until my trembling knees almost gave in. Russ’ arms kept me standing. “Russsss,” I keened his name aloud while tugging his scalp. My other fingers buried into his wrist, my nails biting into his skin, but my sexy Army sergeant never uttered a cross word. Instead, he sank deep and met his own release, pulsing inside me. My only regret was that I couldn’t see his face to enjoy the way he clenched his jaw and squeezed his eyes tight as he came.

  I sagged against the counter with my cheek on the cool marble. Panting hard and fast, I couldn’t compose a thought, much less utter a word to praise my lover.

  Neither of us moved. Russ seemed as content as I was to lay against me, trapping my body against his kitchen counter with his heavier and larger bulk. I closed my eyes, sighed, and enjoyed the close moment between us.

  “I’d make love to you every day like this if I could, Daniela.”

  I wanted to cry. I wanted to call him a liar, but most of all, I wanted to trust him and accept every word. I wanted to believe a man could truly find me attractive again after a decade of the worst degradation and abuse. I wanted to believe in Russ.

  When he finally slipped out of me, my legs had regained their strength. I dipped down without making eye contact to grab my shirt and begin pulling it on, but Russell stopped me with a hand on my wrist.

  “Don’t. Please.”

  “Don’t?”

  “I meant it, Daniela. Don’t hide from me, baby.”

  “I’m not hiding,” I lied. “Just getting dressed.”

  His body stepped in snugly behind me, his cheek against my hair and his arm wrapped around my middle in a tender embrace that left me feeling cherished. “No one here but you and me, darlin’.”

  “Do you really think I look all right?”

  “No, I don’t just think you look all right. I think you’re stunning from head to toe. Not just on the outside, but here too.” Russ placed his hand over my heart. “Come on. I’ll run a bath for us to have a soak before you get into this kitchen again.”

  Trusting Russ, I let him take me by the hand and lead me. Our first bath together was the icing on top of everything else we’d shared since our date, and we held each other until the cooling water pruned our bodies. Afterward, while toweling each other off, we exchanged slow, drugging kisses that made me lightheaded.

  He surprised me with a sudden question. “Why is it so hard for you to believe I like you the way you are?”

  “I’ve never met a guy who looks like you who cares to be with someone like me... When I married my ex, I was a lot skinnier than I am now. He hated that I gained weight.” Back then, my good-looking ex-husband had the physique of a slim running back. His lean build and tight muscular tone gave him a sleek appearance in a football uniform and in my bed.

  “You think because I look like this, that it means I want my woman to be small and dainty?” His laughter made me twist around to look up at him in confusion.

  “Don’t you think girls like Juliette are hot?”

  “She’s obviously not the woman I want, now, is she?” His hand glided over my damp skin and cupped my breast, a gesture that seemed more for comfort than any attempt to arouse himself or me. “My wife was... she wasn’t much smaller than you when I married her. Taller, maybe, and that made her seem skinnier, but I always appreciated how she had some meat on her. She was thin after the sickness, but the woman I keep in my heart and memories was almost as thick as you. And you know what, baby? I wouldn’t change either of you for anything.”

  He hadn’t shared much about his wife beyond the assurance of her passing and that he was truly a single man. I hadn’t noticed a photo of her yet in the house, but of course, I also hadn’t seen his bedroom with more than the weak light of a lantern.

  “You really loved her.”

  “Completely.”

  I didn’t make it back to my house until late afternoon, and if not for Russ’ keen sight, I probably wouldn’t have noticed something was wrong until the next day when I came down for work.

  “Baby, was your car always scratched up like that on the driver’s side?”

  “Scratched up?” I leapt out of his truck and ran toward my car for a better look. A long horizontal scar ran from the front tire down the side until it reached the rear light. A sick feeling churned in my stomach and my body went cold. I couldn’t feel my toes or my fingers anymore.

  “Shit,” Russ muttered from the other side of my car. I glanced over at his red face, tensed frame, and clenched fists. I dreaded crossing over for a look, but I did it anyway. Someone had scratched the word ‘BITCH’ into my passenger door in capital letters.

  Closer inspection revealed the dash had already been defaced with a particular ‘C’ word I didn’t want in my vocabulary. My driver and passenger side windows were also on the seats along with pooled rain. Someone had bashed those out.


  “Who would do this?” Tears burned my eyes and my throat tightened. I knew exactly who. Mike. My driveway swam in my vision, blurred by tears and dizziness. Passing around the front of my car revealed the last of the damage. I stepped on fragments of glass from the shattered headlights.

  I couldn’t drive to work like this. A sob tore from my throat as I slammed one fist into the hood of my car. If insurance didn’t cover all of the damages to the electrical system, I’d be forced to buy a new car.

  “Breathe, darlin’.” Strong arms surrounded me while I struggled to get enough air in my lungs. “Slow it down and breathe, Daniela.”

  While I struggled to get it under control, Russ made a call to the local police department. Someone came out and took a statement. After I told them about my ex-husband and how he must have come last night while I was away on a date, the cop said he’d follow up on that and keep me updated on any news.

  Russell offered to stay with me, but respected my wish to be alone. I called in sick to work when Monday came and spent it beneath the blankets in bed. I didn’t want to see anyone, and I didn’t want anyone to see me.

  ***

  I didn’t venture out of the house until the second day after my car was vandalized. With a book in one hand and a cup of tea in the other, I retreated to the backyard where I hoped the sunshine would pull me out of my funk. Before settling in the hammock, I placed my cell phone and drink on the wrought iron table beside it.

  The shade trees helped set the perfect atmosphere for a lazy afternoon. Between my spiced chai, the chirping birds, and my raunchy romance about a sexy FBI agent, my mood lifted enough for me to be able to shyly send a text message to Russ.

  In hindsight, I felt awful about sending him away so fast and rushing into my house to have a pity party. It wasn’t his fault my psychotic ex-husband keyed my car, but I hadn’t wanted him to see me fall apart.