I opened my eyes and—yes—I was panting. I looked down at my body. “I’m too small.”
He made a scoffing sound, deep in his throat. “Too small? What’s too small? I’ve met Special Forces guys who don’t have half the guts you got.” He leaned down and punctuated his words with kisses. “You are exactly. The right. Size.”
A warm glow joined the deeper, darker heat that was building inside me.
“I love your breasts.” He leaned down and kissed one hardened nipple, making me gasp. “Firm and lush and just goddamn beautiful. I love ‘em even more because you hide them under that damn suit. I wanted to strip it off you from the first second I saw you.”
He kissed his way down my stomach. I realized where he was heading and drew my breath in, instinctively closing my thighs.
He glanced up at me, pinned me with a look and shook his head.
I melted...and let my legs part.
He slid down my body and his elbows spread my knees. Wide. I gasped. No one had ever looked at me down there in the way he was: like he was soaking up something that was beautiful, as well as making him hard. “You’re gorgeous,” he said, his voice going growly with lust. “Goddamn gorgeous.”
And then he lowered his head to my groin and I realized this was one of the things he’d been wanting to do. I began to pant, anticipating...I could feel the tiny drops of water still rolling down my sensitive flesh. I could feel the heat from the fire gently warming me. And then—
I’d been half-sitting up, watching him, but suddenly my head pressed back against the ground. The very tip of his tongue was drawing a scorching line down the length of one lip. It blazed down me with agonizing slowness, sending twisting, lashing streamers of silver pleasures up inside me. He reached the bottom and started up the other side and I groaned and rocked my head back, closing my eyes.
His tongue glided around my clit, teasing it, never quite touching it directly. The pleasure grew stronger, harder, the streamers coiling in my center and contracting into a growing ball of heat. “M—Mason!” I gasped. I couldn’t believe how gentle he was being, wouldn’t have dreamed his huge body was capable of it. I could feel the heat turning to slick moisture, my ass beginning to grind against the ground.
He started to lap at me, then open me, and I clutched fistfuls of grass. Two fingers slid inside me, exquisitely thick and ohgodyesknuckles. My eyes flew open and I stared up at the sky. As the sun sank, a million pinpricks of light were just starting to glow in the dark blue. I was tiny: barely a speck in this vast land, and so naked, lying there exposed on my back….
And yet, for the first time, Alaska didn’t feel huge and terrifying because I had him right there, anchoring me. And now his lips were closing around my clit, his fingers twisting and pushing deep, pumping in an insistent rhythm as I tossed my head against the grass.
The pleasure was rippling through me, soaking into the tight, hot ball I knew was going to explode. I sucked in air through my nose, biting my lip. His free hand slid up my body and found my breast and I arched up, pressing it into his palm. The pleasure swelled and shuddered, about to burst. My thighs tried to press together—
And found the thickness of his shoulders bracing them apart, solid and immovable, and that sent me over the edge. I cried out, my voice rising to the treetops, and shuddered against him. Then I collapsed back onto the grass, panting, and he slid up and held me close. It was long minutes before I was capable of speech. “For a guy who hasn’t seen a woman in four years,” I managed, “You’re suspiciously talented.”
“I’ve had a lot of time to think about what I’d do,” he growled. “About all the things I’d do.” He shifted his body against mine and I felt his cock press against my thigh: still damp from the waterfall, scorching hot and very, very hard.
I looked up at him, seeing the lust in his eyes. I swallowed, feeling myself getting even wetter.
His thighs nudged mine further apart. There was something about feeling his muscled hips sinking between my legs that made me giddy. The head of him brushed up against my moist folds and I caught my breath. He hooked his forearms under mine and then—
My eyes went wide as he sank into me, buttery smooth, steel wrapped in silk. I gasped at his size, his thickness, my toes dancing. “M—Mason!”
He slowed but didn’t stop, filling me millimeter by tight, hot millimeter until all I could feel was me wrapped around him, until there didn’t seem to be any air left in my lungs. And then I felt the damp curls of his hair press against me and I knew he was rooted in me.
He leaned down and kissed me, owning my mouth, taking me hard and deep as he showed me what he was about to do to my body. My head lifted off the ground, meeting him, showing him I wanted it at least as badly as he did. My fingers slid through his hair, stroked up his stubbled cheeks—
And then he was moving. First slow, gentle thrusts like the tide. Then, as the smooth friction overtook us both, he started driving into me, making me close my eyes and gasp in pleasure, my chin pointed to the stars. I grabbed for him but his hands caught mine in mid-air and pressed them to the ground either side of my head, our fingers intertwining. I panted up at him, feeling the cool grass against my knuckles.
Our breathing become one: quick little pants of air as his body slammed into mine, faster and faster. Something about the size of him, about the way he hulked over me, about the way I looked up and saw only him, his wide shoulders blocking out everything else, turned my insides soft as water. It was utterly different to sex with the men I’d dated in New York: this was simple and primal and wild. I could feel the soft grass under my ass, the cool breeze on one side of me and the warmth of the fire on the other but part of me still couldn’t believe it: I’m outside. I’m doing this outside!
He sped up again, his breathing quickening, staring down at me with those Alaska-blue eyes. I realized he was watching for something, hungry for it.
He wanted to see me undone. And he was going to.
As he lowered himself more, bracing his muscled forearms on the ground, his chest started to stroke against my breasts. The touch of his hard body against my nipples sent ripples of pleasure spreading outward, colliding and combining, twisting down into a white-hot, throbbing center. God, he was so gorgeous, his naked body painted gold and orange by the firelight, every muscle standing out. My hair tossed on the grass, my breathing growing ragged. I couldn’t take it any more: I had to touch him.
I wrestled my hands out from under his and ran them over his back, feeling every muscle, clinging to him. I saw his mouth curl up at the corners as he saw my desperation...and it felt good. I’d spent my whole life being strong, never for a second letting anyone see me lose it: not even in bed. Especially not in bed, with some guy who might use it against me. With Boone, I had no choice. I couldn’t hide what was going on inside me and I didn’t need to. Boone relished my pleasure.
I was arching and straining, now, flexing my groin up to meet his every thrust, my hips circling in a way that made him growl. I could tell he was getting close, too. He leaned on one elbow and cradled my head, staring down into my eyes. His lips sank closer and closer to mine, until there were only a few inches between our faces. We were connected completely, like I’d never been with anyone. The pleasure built and tightened, my hands hooked around the small of his back and dragged him desperately in—
He suddenly leaned down and kissed me, lips spreading mine, tongue driving deep, and the sudden touch of him there sent me over the edge. I came with a scream that echoed far out into the forest, bucking and shuddering against him, hooking my legs around his. And then he was growling deep in his throat and lunging into me and I felt the hot explosion of him deep inside.
Afterwards, we clung to each other, kissing softly. The fire kept our naked bodies warm but, eventually, the heat started to seep from us and we needed to wrap up in something. Boone pulled a sleeping bag from his pack, got in it and crushed himself right back against the far side, then scooped me in in front of
him, my back to his chest, and I zipped up the zipper to seal us in. He wrapped his arms around me: one muscled forearm around my waist and one across my breasts so he could gently cup one in his hand. Mason’s big body stretched the sleeping bag tight: we only just fit. If I’d been a regular-sized woman, I’m not sure it would have worked. But him and me together: that was perfect.
We were so closely pressed that I could feel every rise and fall of his chest, every beat of his heart. It was the coziest I could ever remember being. Then he gently rolled us over so that we were lying on our backs, me on his chest. I yelped in surprise.
“That okay?” he rumbled.
“Yeah,” I said, because it was fantastic, like lying on a heated bed. “But am I crushing you?”
He didn’t answer but I felt him smirk, as if he could happily stand three of me on top of him. He squeezed me a little tighter.
I looked up at the stars. The sky had darkened to black and the storm had blown away to leave a clear night. A million stars gleamed above us. Funny how, in New York, I’d always thought of the night sky as dark.
Our breathing slowed but sleep didn’t come. I could feel something building in the silence between us. Something that hadn’t been able to come out, before. But now that I’d said I’d stay in Alaska with him, something that had to.
He took a slow, deep breath...and told me what happened to him.
44
Boone
I stared up at the stars. The huge, open sky was exactly what I needed to get me through this. But it wasn’t the most important thing. That was lying stretched out on top of me. The smell of her hair, the soft press of her against my chest, the smoothness of her breast under my palm. That was what convinced my brain I was safe in Alaska. That was what kept me distant enough from the memories that I could bear to revisit them.
“The insurgents found me standing over the bodies of a family,” I said. “All of them had guns pointed at me and I figured I was dead...but they took me prisoner instead. At first, I thought maybe they’d trade me or execute me....but no. They wanted me to suffer.”
She didn’t say anything, maybe didn’t want to stop my flow. But she pushed her body down against mine in sympathy, our nakedness meaning that I could feel her warmth all the way from her toes to the top of her head.
“They took me to this basement: a house right in the center of the city. They put duct tape over my mouth so I couldn’t make a noise. I could hear US troops in the street outside, searching for me, but they had no clue I was there. The insurgents couldn’t figure out what to do with me, at first. So they blindfolded me and chained my wrists and ankles, and then chained me to a radiator. No food or water, just darkness.”
I felt her body stiffen against mine. “How long?” she asked.
“Three days.” I felt her shudder and squeezed her tight. I knew she was thinking of my arrest, in Koyuk, and the time I’d spent overnight in chains. Of the plane and the way I’d sat chained there, halfway to slipping back into the nightmare, until she’d brought me the water.
“Then, on the fourth day, some guy pulled off my blindfold and stared down at me. I recognized the face: not one of their leaders but he was high up. He spoke a little English. Told me I was going to enter hell. I thought he was going to kill me…”—my breath caught—“but that wasn’t what he meant at all.”
“The basement had a dirt floor.” I said. “They started digging a pit.” I was surprised by how calm my voice was, so far. “About six feet long, three feet wide.” I let that sink in for a moment. Heard Kate’s scared intake of breath: praying that this wasn’t going where she thought it was going.
“Then they brought in a coffin,” I said. “And I figured it out. We’d been trained on how to survive things: interrogation, torture. But this wasn’t that. Even if I’d wanted to give up my country, they weren’t interested. There was nothing I could do to stop it. It was going to happen.”
Kate was taking tiny little panic breaths, now, just the thought of it getting to her. She reached back and felt for my hand and I squeezed hers tight.
“They left the chains on when they lifted me in. When they put the lid on the coffin, I figured that was it. An hour of air, maybe, and then I’ll suffocate. But no.” I could hear my voice going tight. “The guy was serious, when he talked about me entering hell.”
It took me a few seconds before I could continue. I had to stare very hard up at the night sky. I had to feel the wind against my face and smell the wood smoke from the fire to really ground myself in Alaska.
“There was a rubber tube,” I said at last. “Leading up out of the coffin. For air and water.”
Kate’s whole body went rigid as the image hit her. “Oh Jesus,” she breathed. “Oh, Jesus, no!” She tried to turn over to face me but there wasn’t space in the sleeping bag. In a way, I was glad. There was nothing I wanted more than to see that gorgeous face...but if I saw her eyes, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to continue. And I needed to get this out. I’d been waiting four years.
“The lid was maybe an inch from my face,” I told her. “Even without the chains, there was no space to move around, but the chains meant I couldn’t stretch, couldn’t even try to move. “I felt the coffin lift and then lower—they had to use ropes, like at a funeral. And then I bumped down at the bottom and I heard the first shovel full of earth hit the top. It was already nearly pitch black but there’d been some tiny cracks of light: gaps between the lid and the coffin. Now, it went totally dark. Dark like you’ve never—”
Unexpectedly, my voice went: just dropped away to nothing and I couldn’t talk. I could smell the wood and feel the splinters against my knuckles. I could feel the icy-cold metal of the chains against my wrists and hear the fading whump, whump, whump of dirt hitting the coffin lid. The stars disappeared. The fire disappeared. I’d gone too close to the memories and now they were taking me, the thing that lived inside me rising up to swallow me whole….
But then she was there, stretching the sleeping bag almost to breaking point as she twisted over and lay flat on my chest, arms wrapping around me, hugging me tight. Her lips pressed to the line between my pecs and she clung on for dear life—
I pulled myself out of the darkness towards her warmth and softness and slowly, slowly, I came back.
“And then there was just quiet,” I said. “But not total quiet. They hadn’t buried me that deep. I could still hear stuff, muffled but there. Traffic going past outside. Helicopters overhead. Troops—our troops—on the street outside, patrolling. By now, they’d stopped looking for me. They figured I’d been captured and taken off into the mountains and executed. They had no idea I was right there.”
I sucked in a long breath, trying to slow my heart rate. “I couldn’t move. I could hardly breathe. There was no day, no night, just dark. I didn’t suffocate, so I guessed they’d wedged the tube somewhere where air could get in. And now and again they’d pour some water down the tube and I learned to catch some of it in my mouth, so I didn’t die of thirst. After the first few times that happened, it sank in: this isn’t going to end. I’m trapped.”
“I lost all track of time: there was no way to gauge it, no day and no night, just dark. After a while, I wasn’t even sure if I was asleep or awake. I saw buddies I knew were dead. I saw Alaska. I saw all sorts of shit, never sure if I was dreaming or hallucinating. And when the dream ended, I was always still in the coffin, still trapped….”
Kate inched up my body and pressed her cheek to mine. Hers was wet with tears. “How long?” she whispered.
I swallowed. “Thirteen days.”
She raised herself up on her arms, stretching the sleeping bag. Her face had gone snow white and her eyes commanded me to make it not so. Then she fell against me, burying her head in the crook of my shoulder, her hot tears soaking my cheek.
“How were you rescued?” she asked at last.
I stared up at the stars. “I wasn’t.”
I felt her turn her head to look at me.
Just knowing she was there gave me the strength to get through the next part. In some ways, it was the toughest part of all.
“They dug me up,” I said. “Lifted out the coffin, pried off the lid. I hadn’t seen light in almost two weeks so at first, my eyes couldn’t even focus. And my mind was cracking—or maybe it had cracked. I wasn’t sure if it was real or just a dream. It had taken three of them to lift me in but now it only took two to haul me out: I was a bag of bones. I figured they were going to kill me, finally, maybe behead me and put it on YouTube. But no.” I swallowed. “They had food.”
I couldn’t look at Kate. I had to keep staring up at the stars to make sure the thing inside me didn’t claw its way up and suffocate me. But I squeezed her hand so tight I was worried I’d hurt her. “The plan,” I said tightly, “was to feed me up. Get me strong enough that I’d survive another two weeks. And then do it again and again and again. For as long as they could keep me alive.”
“Oh Jesus,” I heard Kate whisper faintly.
“They thought they’d broken me. They were right, in a way. They’d put this...thing inside me, this fear, that’s still there today. But they’d misjudged what makes a SEAL a SEAL. The training makes us….” For the first time, I turned my head and looked right into Kate’s eyes. “It makes us almost as stubborn as you,” I told her. “And when I figured out I was going back in the box...that was enough to make me grab the guy, weak or not, and smash his head into that damn radiator. They’d gotten sloppy, left me with only one guy to guard me while I ate because they thought I was too weak to fight. And hell, they were almost right. Took me about ten minutes just to get up the strength to get the keys off his body and drag myself up the stairs. But I managed to sneak out of there to the street and then stumble along until I found a US patrol.”
Alaska Wild Page 18