“Mmm,” I hum against his cock.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” He falls back to the bed and brings his hands to his face where he mumbles something under his palms.
Not wanting him to come just yet, I release my grip on him and move away from his fully erect cock, letting it lay hard and ready on his stomach.
Giving myself a second, I take him in. Broad shoulders, hands behind his head, perfectly carved body from his strong pecs to the deep V in his hips, to the thickness of his perfect penis. And then that smile, the one that’s reserved for me, wide and toothy, handsome beyond anything I’ve ever seen.
Straddling his legs, I press my arousal against the length of his hard cock, letting my wetness coat him as I glide my hips over him, rubbing but never penetrating. I place one hand on his flexed abdomen and push the other through my long hair, my hips in a constant movement.
I watch as his face morphs.
Bites on his bottom lip.
Mouth parts.
Neck strains.
Long strangled exhale.
Hands to my hips, guiding me faster, bringing me closer to climax, my clit throbbing, begging for more.
“Fuck, baby. You’re so goddamn beautiful.”
His words send my hips into an undulating frenzy. My breasts flow with my hips, my hair falling over my shoulders, my stomach tightening with each pulse of my clit.
I tilt my head back and allow myself to be in this moment, feeling the length of his cock between the valley of my legs, smooth yet hard, igniting my impeding orgasm. I need more.
I need him inside me.
Reaching between us, I lift up on my knees and place his cock at my entrance. His eyes fall soft as awareness washes over him. I rub his tip along my slit and bite down on my bottom lip . . . the feeling of him so exposed between us, heavy and perfect.
“I want all of you, Stryder, nothing in between us.” I rub him again, moving his cock slower this time.
A hiss escapes past his lips. “Take me, baby.”
“I’m on the pill,” I say, moving him across my slit again. I’m so wet, so he slips over my clit with ease.
“I don’t give a fuck. Just put me inside of you.” He shifts my hips and pulls down on them, urging me.
Loving how much he’s lost control, I lower myself, his cock stretching me out with every inch I take.
I pause, giving myself a second to breathe, to adjust to his thickness. “So big,” I mutter, moving farther down on his length.
Once I’m fully seated, I press my hands against his chest, leaning forward slightly for support, and stare into his passionate eyes. Lifting his hand to my cheek, he pushes my hair behind my shoulder and then cups my face. His thumb rubs across my cheekbone as he encourages me to lower even more, bringing my lips to his.
Sweetly, he kisses me, our hips still, and we experience the connection. Taking control of the moment, turning alpha on me, he rolls us to the side so I’m on my back, looking up at him. Cradling my head, he starts to ever so fucking slowly move his hips in and out of me. I glide my hands up his arms feeling the flex of his triceps, the bulge in his shoulders, and the tension in his back as he tries to keep up his agonizing pace.
He kisses my lips, a light whisper of a press. “I don’t think you’ll ever realize how special you are to me.” His voice drips with sincerity, and in this incredibly moving moment I don’t need to sift through the many snapshots of our interactions over the last few months. It’s all there in his eyes. Love. “This right here, this connection between us,” he kisses my lips again, his tongue passing softly, “I’ve dreamt of this for so long, believing it would never come true, that I would never be able to have this deep connection with you.” He picks up the pace of his hips. “I never thought I’d hear you say those three little words to me.” He runs his nose along my jaw, sending goose bumps up and down my arms. “To hear you say I love you . . . Fuck, Rory.” He kisses my jaw and moves to my ear where he whispers, “You own me. Every beat of my heart. Every thought in my mind. Each breath of my soul. Every last inch of my body, you fucking own. You own it all. I'm yours, Rory. Yours.”
Out of breath, my mind whirling with how sweet and amazing he is, I arch my back, begging for more, needing release, needing to feel how phenomenal we are together.
“There will never be anyone more special to me—” he thrusts into me, “—more beautiful inside and out—” another thrust, this one harder, “—more fucking perfect for me.” Another thrust, so deep, causing me to hum in pleasure.
His large calloused hands wrap under my ass, gripping my flesh tightly as he pushes harder and harder into me, my body inching toward the headboard, my stomach starting to flutter with the apex of my pleasure approaching.
“I love you so fucking much, Rory,” he groans, his chest muscles rippling, straining as his hips move faster.
With each thrust, he goes deeper and deeper, angling my hips up until he hits me in just the right spot.
My eyes fly open, my back arches even more, and I let out a long, surprised moan as he continues to pulse into me. How is he doing this to me? So intense. So exceptional.
“Oh Stryder, yes. Oh my God, yes, right there.”
I push against the headboard, hands trying to keep my head from hitting the wood. Our lovemaking was slow at first, steady and sensual, but now it’s ravenous, greedy. With each thrust he brings us both closer and closer to the brink until finally he grunts and stills inside of me. Eyes squeezed tight, the sexiest expression I’ve ever seen on a man crosses his features, while his groans toss me over the edge as well.
I come all over his cock, pulsing and vibrating around him, my walls clenching, spurring on his orgasm even further until we’re both breathing erratically, our skin molding together, our hearts beating as one.
We catch our breaths, our foreheads connected, our noses kissing. I sigh, still trying to gain feeling back into my limbs, but enjoying the weight of his hot and heavy body on top of mine. When he tries to move away I stop him.
“Stay,” I whisper. “I want to feel you, every part of you, right now.”
He sighs into me and presses a kiss across my forehead. “I won’t move all night if you don’t want me to.”
Just then the oven beeps, indicating the meatloaf is done. He chuckles and looks over his shoulder. “Uh, maybe I have to move for a second. Don’t want to burn down the apartment.”
Knowing he’s right, I release my tight grip and say, “Can you take the meatloaf out but come right back here?”
He kisses my nose and nods. Stripping the blanket from his backside, he hops out of bed and walks toward the kitchen, and I enjoy watching his pure male form retreating. His backside is sculpted and molded like a Greek god, carved in all the right places.
His broad shoulders taper to his waist and his high, tight ass. Propping myself up on the bed with my elbows, I watch intently as he takes the meatloaf out of the oven, turns it off, and then goes to the bathroom where he brings a wet washcloth to me. When he sees my eyes focused on his every movement, a lopsided grin pulls at the corners of his mouth. He stands in front of the bed and tilts his head to the side.
“Are you checking me out?”
“Yup.” My teeth rake over my bottom lip. I have no shame. It feels like I’ve been waiting forever to see him like this. Not just naked physically, but emotionally too.
“Like what you see?”
“Love what I see.” I sit up and pull on his arm so he’s sitting on the bed. Growing serious, I drag the tip of my finger over his stubble and ask, “Are you fully and truly with me now?”
His brow pinches together. “What do you mean?”
I scoot even closer, wanting him to feel the love and need I have for him. “No more roadblocks stopping us from moving forward. This is it; you and me, right?”
“It’s always been you, Rory,” he answers, placing his hand on my thigh and leaning in toward me.
“But nothing is standing in our way anymore
, right?” I grip his cheeks so he is forced to look at me. “Because I love you, Stryder.” Emphasizing each word, I repeat. “I. Love. You.”
He squeezes his eyes shut briefly and nods. “I love you, Rory.”
“That’s all we need.” I link one of my hands with his. “You’re who I want, no one else. You’re it for me.”
He lets out a heavy, relieved sigh and leans me back on the bed, his body hovering over mine. “I want you to know one thing.” He kisses my lips, nipping at them. “This connection between us, it’s so goddamn real to me, and I will never take it for granted. I realize the gift you’ve given me, I realize how fucking lucky I am, and I will never take that for granted. I’ve never been in a relationship before or been showered with love like the way you love me. But I can guarantee you this. I won’t ever say I don’t know what love is.” He kisses me again. “Because I do know what love is, Rory. You showed me over time that the empty shell inside me, the black heart I possess, is capable of the most important human emotion. Without even knowing it, you showed me the kind of man I can be, the kind of man I want to be.” He tangles his fingers through my hair, gripping me tightly. “I want to be your everything, your rock, your protector, your lover, your best friend. I want all the titles.”
I stroke his cheek, my fingers grazing over his bottom pouty and swollen lip. Smiling at him, I say, “Don’t worry, Stryder, you already own all of those titles and so much more.”
Bringing his head to mine, I show him how much he is the keeper of those titles. And I can't ever see that changing. Life will throw us curveballs; he might be reassigned, yet I don't feel that same ache of abandonment that I felt with Colby. I don't feel as though I'm reaching for something I can't have. Something elusive. I don't feel that immediate pain of loneliness, and I think it's because of Stryder. He hasn't guarded his heart and soul so fervently. He's gifted it. He's already proven he understands what love is. He took a huge risk in encouraging Colby to be with me, but our hearts found each other in the end, which makes me know we were destined to be together. Stryder's heart isn't continually lifting toward the skies for fulfillment, so even though there still will be moments when I can't crawl into his warm and comforting arms after the hard days, I don't feel as . . . hopeless. Alone. And that gives me peace. We are right together.
He wants to be my everything? Well, he already is.
Chapter Fifty-Six
STRYDER
Why am I so goddamn nervous?
We’ve been dating for months now, I’ve moved into her apartment, we spend every waking moment together when we’re not at work, and yet, here I stand, two tickets in hand and a nervous jitter shaking my bones.
For a moment, I think about not asking her, about just tossing the tickets in the garbage, acting as if I never even got them. But then again, I’m desperate to see what she would wear, how she would feel on my arm, being escorted under a salute of swords.
With a deep breath, I walk into our apartment and find Rory wearing an apron while tending to some steaming pots on the stove. When she turns to greet me, a giant smile crosses her beautiful lips, her entire face lighting up. God, I fucking love that look. I would go to work again just to come home to that face once more.
“You’re home,” she beams, setting a wooden spoon on the counter and coming to me. She wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me toward her for a toe-curling kiss. Her little body presses into mine as she takes my breath away. “I don’t like it when you work late.” She gently plays with my hair, running her fingers through it.
“I know,” I sigh, kissing her on the lips. “I hate working late too, but I do like the welcome home.” I play with the tie on her apron. “But what have I told you about this apron? It’s only supposed to be worn with nothing underneath.”
She giggles into my chest and pushes away, shaking her head. “And how many times have I told you I’m not cooking naked?” She rolls her eyes and walks back to the kitchen. I do my usual dressing down to my pants and T-shirt, keeping the tickets to the Air Force Ball in my back pocket.
I walk up behind her and look over her shoulder, into the pots. “Smells really good, baby.” I kiss her cheek and wrap my arms around her waist. “What are you making?”
“Beef stew and there’s cornbread muffins in the oven.”
I rub my stomach, so ready for dinner. “You spoil me.”
Turning in my arms, she rests her hands on my shoulders and lifts up onto her toes, looking for a kiss. I deliver. “I just like to make my man happy.”
I caress her cheek. “You do that with just your smile.”
Sighing into me, she slides her hands around my back and down to my ass where her hand rubs against the tickets. “What’s that?” she asks, just as my eyes squeeze tightly shut. Lifting them from my back pocket, she brings them into view and examines them. “What are these, Stryder?”
I pluck the tickets from her hand and nervously shift in place. “Uh, they are tickets.”
“Tickets for what?”
“Tickets for—” I swallow hard “—for the Air Force Ball.”
Her beautiful eyes widen in surprise. “The Air Force Ball?”
“Yeah.” I rub the back of my neck, nervous as fuck. “I, uh, was kind of hoping that maybe you would want to go with me. But if it’s not your thing, we don’t have to go. Just thought maybe it would be nice to take you out.”
She presses her hands against my chest and slides them up around my neck, the corners of her lips curved up. “I would love to go with you.”
“Really?”
“Of course.” She stands on her toes and presses a kiss to my jaw. “Why would you think I’d say no?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. My mom always dreaded going with my dad, so I wasn’t sure if it was something you would enjoy.” Although now I wonder if she hated going because she would be wondering which women there my dad had had affairs with. The bastard. He probably took her just to make her feel uncomfortable. “There are a lot of speeches and shit, but after all that, there is dancing and food, and you get to dress up.” I circle my finger around a strand of her hair. “In all honesty, I really want to see you in a gown, dressed up just for me.”
Her fingers play with my hair. “Are you going to wear something fancy?”
I rake my teeth over my bottom lip and nod. “We’re required to wear our mess dress uniforms.”
She wiggles her eyebrows cutely. “Ooo, looks like I’m the one lucking out here. When is it?”
“This weekend.”
Her eyebrows shoot up, her hands pausing in my hair. “And you’re just telling me about it now? Stryder, don’t you know the kind of stuff a girl has to go through in order to get herself ready for such an event? You lived with Ryan; you should know.”
I cup her jaw and lower my lips just a whisper above hers. “You can go like this and be the most gorgeous woman in the room. You don’t need any of that pampering shit.”
“What if I want it?”
That surprises me. I press a kiss across her lips and say, “Then do whatever you‘d like, it’s on me.”
“Stryder, I’m not going to have you pay for things.”
“Why not?”
“Because . . . it’s weird?”
I pull away, a pinch in my brow. “Why is it weird?”
She looks away and shrugs. “I don’t know. Just seems weird to spend your money.”
I bring her eyes back to mine. “Are you my girlfriend?” She nods, adding in an impressive eye-roll. “Then that means I get to spoil you any way I want. If I want to spend my money on you, then I will. When are you going to let me take care of you? Truly take care of you?”
“You do take care of me.” Taking my hand, she leads me to the bed where she pushes me back onto the mattress and undoes her apron, letting it fall to the ground. Left in a pair of shorts and a tank top, she then crosses her arms in front of her and snags the hem of her shirt, pulling it up and over her head, revealing her bare breasts.
God, she’s so goddamned beautiful. There’s no way in hell I’ll ever tire of looking at her.
She climbs on top of my lap, settles her hands on my chest and slides them down to my shoulders, dragging her body with her. “You take care of me in other ways,” she whispers, pressing a kiss across my jaw.
I roll her to her back and pin her against the mattress. Growing serious, I say, “I want to take care of you more than in the bedroom.”
Realization passes across her features and her eyes soften. “Stryder.” Her fingers run over my cheek. “Do you realize how important you are to me?” Her breasts press against my chest as she leans in even closer. “You take care of me every day with your love, with the way you so easily pull me into your body, and the gentle words you speak to me. This isn’t just physical for me, Stryder. I need you, just like you need me. You’ve become my world.”
I stroke her hair behind her shoulder. “Then let me at least buy your dress for you for the ball?”
“Is it important to you?”
I nod. “Yes. You’ve given me so much, and I want to be able to give you some things as well.”
“What have I given you?”
I press my palm into her chest. “Your heart first of all. You’ve given me a loving home, a retreat I’ve never had before—”
“Besides Amy’s Donuts,” she teases, making me laugh.
“Besides Amy’s Donuts. You’ve given me hope that there is so much more beyond what I thought I could ever have.”
“What makes you think I don’t feel the same about you?”
Because I know I’m not good enough. For her. I constantly wonder what the hell Rory is doing with me. She gave up Colby because she hated knowing he would always leave her because of his job, but he was the better man. And my job means I might also have to relocate after three years if I continue in the Air Force. So, why would she settle for me?
I want to answer her, but really, what could I say? I don’t know how the fuck she could ever feel the same about me that I feel about her.
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