by Sybil Bartel
Oh my God. “Yes.” I wanted that. I wanted all of his dirty words, and hard body, and big cock, and cut muscles. I wanted him to dominate me and take me and make me forget who I was. “Please,” I begged, bending even more over the counter. “I need you inside me.”
SHE PUSHED HER SWEET CUNT against my raging hard-on. “I need you inside me.”
I didn’t hesitate. Undoing my belt, I got my zipper down and had my cock in my hand in two seconds flat. Her luscious ass bent over for me, I rubbed the head of my dick through the length of her and she moaned.
A true hourglass figure, she was fucking beautiful, but sweet Jesus, her pussy wet and quivering around first my fingers, then the head of my cock, I didn’t stand a chance.
I should’ve asked about protection. I should’ve gotten a green light to go bareback, I should’ve gotten her real name, but I was a man standing in front of pure temptation, and I broke.
I shoved into her.
Fuuuck me. My head fell back, my balls drew tight, and I almost came on the spot.
Tight and hot and so fucking wet, it took everything I had to go slow.
Inch by inch, I buried myself so deep in her, I didn’t know my own goddamn rank. “Brookelyn,” I muttered. “Fuck, beautiful. You’re heaven.” Words bled out of my mouth. “You feel like fucking heaven.”
Her chest on the counter, she reached back and grabbed at my jeans. “Harder,” she demanded.
For once, I didn’t want to go hard. I knew what I’d fucking said to her, but that was before I sank inside her. I didn’t want to just pound her into submission, and rush toward my own release. I wanted her to feel every inch of the mind-fuck her body was giving me.
I gripped a handful of her curls. Her hair was so fucking soft, I wanted to feel it everywhere—teasing my dick, wrapped around my fist, covering my face as she rode me. Fuck. Fuck. “Babe, I’m bareback.” I drove into her so deep I bottomed out. “If I pound into you right now, I’m coming.” And Jesus fuck, the thought alone had me ready to explode.
Her fingers dug into my thighs. “Come,” she grunted, shoving back and impaling herself on me. “Then fuck me again.”
Goddamn. “Woman.” I dragged my palm over her sweet ass. “You telling me what to do?” She could fucking tell me to do anything right now. I didn’t give a fuck. I’d do it, just to be inside her.
Despite me gripping a tight handful of her hair, she turned her head and looked over her shoulder at me. Mouth wet and parted, her core pulsing, her eyes so fucking haunted she looked ethereal, her tongue darted out to touch her bottom lip. “Fuck me, Garrett Collins. Come inside me. Use me. Ride me. Make me forget.”
My dick surged and I pulled her hair hard. Covering her back with my chest, I brought my mouth to her ear. “Last name,” I demanded, because I couldn’t ask her what or why she wanted to forget. It’d be nothing except a hypocritical question. I wanted to forget where I was going when the sun rose. I wanted to forget a woman who birthed me, but couldn’t remember my name, and I wanted to forget every other woman I’d fucked, because this wild-haired minx riding my cock felt that goddamn good.
But fuck, I wanted her last name.
Licking up the side of her neck, I drew out a few inches and slowly pushed back in. “Give me a name to hold on to after tomorrow.” Because that’s exactly what I wanted to do. I wanted to hold on to this woman.
She moaned low. “No.”
“Last name.” I didn’t quit. “Give me something, sweetheart.”
“Grab my ass,” she countered.
“I’ll grab it, and fuck it…” I bit her ear as I squeezed her ass. “As soon as I know whose sweet cunt I’m sinking inside of.”
She ground her hips and panted, “You need a name to come?”
I smiled against the musk of her neck as I palmed her hard-as-fuck nipples through her bra. “You want me to come?” I could come on the next thrust, but I wanted to fuck her into the next decade.
“I want you to fuck me like you mean it.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. Yanking her bra down, I pressed her chest into the counter and rose as I grabbed her hips. “I want those hard nipples on the cold granite.”
She gripped the edge of the counter and panted. “Less. Talking.”
I pulled back then thrust deep. Using my thumbs to press hard into the muscles on her lower back, I watched myself ease out of her. “Lucky you.” I slammed back into her. “I can talk and fuck at the same time.” I could talk and hit a target a thousand yards out because I’d trained myself to. I could work through any distraction.
She groaned and her pussy constricted around me.
I pulled out again. “So fucking wet, sweetheart.” But I didn’t want to work through this distraction. My cock covered in her desire, I wanted to fucking bury myself in her sweet distraction. “You like me inside you?” Fisting my wet dick, I edged her. “Or do you like to be teased?”
Half grunt, half moan, she dropped her head as a tremor went up her spine.
Fuck yeah. “I’ll take that as a yes.” I rimmed her again, pressing harder this time.
“Oh my God,” she gasped.
I plunged into her.
Her back bowed and her pussy went off. Clenching, pulsing, gripping me like she was made to milk me, she came.
My dick hardened to the point of pain, and I reached around to her clit. “Come on, sweetheart, let’s make this last a little longer.”
“Ah, ah, ah!” She shook in my arms and tried to pull away from my touch.
Holding her to me, riding her slow so I didn’t come as the last of her orgasm pulsed around me, I circled her clit. “You’re not going anywhere.” Increasing my speed, I kept going around her clit, but I didn’t touch it. Not yet. “Wait,” I quietly commanded, drawing the word out. “Wait.” I drew around her like the wind. Everywhere and nowhere. My cock hitting her G-spot, my chest covering her back in dominance, my fingers owning her next orgasm, I edged her.
And I owned her.
Her body compliant in my arms, my voice rough, but my touch deliberately not strong enough, I whispered a question I shouldn’t. “Am I coming inside this sweet cunt?” I pinched her clit.
“Fuck!” Her back arched, her arms locked and her pussy detonated.
My eyes almost rolling back in my head, I gripped her bucking hips and ground out the question again. “Where am I coming, Brookelyn?”
“Ohmigod, ohmigod, inside me, inside me,” she yelled, grinding on me with the last two words.
“Pill?”
“Depo shot. Come!”
The last of my willpower rushed to my dick. Holding on to her, I drove into her over and over. Her tight-as-hell cunt constricting, her desire dripping down my dick, she held on to the counter, and I held on to her.
Three more thrusts and I fucking let go.
But I didn’t just come.
I exploded inside her, and every shit-ass moment of the past year washed away. I wasn’t taking aim at enemy targets, I wasn’t a no-name son, I wasn’t a controlled killing machine in a war that controlled me.
I was a man.
Coming inside the sweetest cunt I’d ever gotten a taste of.
PULSE AFTER PULSE, HIS HOT release sank inside me and filled every inch like he was the answer to all the bad decisions in my life.
Gripping my hips like he owned me, he rode out the last surge of his release, but he didn’t pull out. The heat of his chest covered my back, and his mouth landed on my shoulder.
“So sweet,” his deep, rough voice rasped. “So fucking sweet.” His mouth open, he swirled his tongue over my heated skin like his expert fingers had swirled around my clit.
I didn’t have words. Or I had too many. But nothing I could say would be any sort of Band-Aid for any part of my life, or his.
“You smell like heaven.” His breath coasted across my heated skin. “But fuck, woman, you feel even better.”
He swore more when he wasn’t censoring what he said to me, and
I loved the raw edge to him and his crude and dominant words. His coarse chest hair and the trail leading down to his giant dick rubbed against my bare back like sandpaper and man, giving me a direct shot of adrenaline to my poor stretched pussy. The rasp to his voice deeper post orgasm, his touch less hurried, he gently stroked in and out of me. Covering himself in his release, or spreading his seed deeper, I didn’t know which and I didn’t care. He was the single best sexual experience of my life. The single best experience, period.
And the thought of him going back to war made me want to cry.
“Hey,” he whispered, brushing his palms over my shoulders and kissing my neck. “What was that?”
I bit my bottom lip and sucked in a breath past the sudden lump in my throat. “What was what?”
“Your whole body just tensed.” His chest still against my back, his arms circled my waist like I was his. “You okay? Did I hurt you?”
He wasn’t mine. He would never be mine. I knew this. I knew this I knew this I knew this, I silently chanted. “I’m fine.”
He kissed my shoulder again. “I’m gonna pull out, sweetheart. You gonna be okay?”
Oh God. I didn’t peg him as the after-sex care guy, but I should have. He’d been nothing except kind to me since I’d met him. Alpha as hell, but kind. Caring. Not like… I cleared my throat. “Mm-hmm.”
Careful and slow, like I was fragile and he’d deemed me precious, he pulled out inch by inch.
His released rushed out of me. Hot and sticky, it ran down my leg and dripped on his expensive, shiny floor.
Ignoring the mess I’d just made, he pulled me up and turned me. Taking my face in his hands, he didn’t hesitate. His mouth covered mine and he kissed me. Gentle and sweet and so, so tender, he kissed me and he broke me.
The rest of my already crumbling heart shattered into pieces of reality and fell to the floor next to the puddle of his release.
This, this was why I didn’t let anyone touch me.
This was why I stayed away from everyone.
This was why I never should’ve let the Marine with the quiet voice and penetrating stare into my maelstrom.
I couldn’t do this.
He was gone tomorrow, but I was never here, not freely. I needed to leave, but it was already too late. The sun would rise tomorrow, and this memory would hurt. Him, his words, his body inside mine, his tongue stroking through my mouth right now like he couldn’t breathe without touching me.
I needed to push him away, but I couldn’t bear to.
Intent on torturing myself, I let him kiss me as I soaked in every second of his hands on me. And because life was cruel no matter how you played it, I allowed myself to kiss him back. For one mind-altering moment, I allowed myself to feel the kind of gentle I didn’t have. The kind of man I’d never have.
The kind of man who kissed me so completely that I didn’t notice he’d pushed my underwear down my thighs until gravity slid them to the floor. And I didn’t notice the back of my bra go loose or realize he’d shoved his pants down until he was stepping out of them and his boots. All I felt was the strong, muscled god of a man who commanded my attention with his lips and his touch until I was completely naked and he was lifting me by the backs of my thighs.
“Wrap your legs around me, sweetheart.”
My soaking wet pussy brushed past his newly hard cock, and a wave of desire stole my breath.
I wrapped my legs around his lean hips, and suddenly he was inside me again.
I gasped as he moaned, and the vibration from his chest rubbed against my aching nipples.
A quiet curse escaped his lips, and he sucked in a breath. His cock pulsed and his forehead went to mine. His eyes closed for a moment before he opened them again and leaned back just enough to give me his unwavering gaze as it locked in on me.
His thumbs stroked my thighs. “You okay?”
I couldn’t stop the comparison. Nathan had never asked me if I was okay. He’d never made me come. He’d never been gentle. He’d never done any of the things to me Garrett was doing.
“Yeah,” I whispered to a man I didn’t deserve, praying my voice didn’t give me away.
“Too soon?”
I shook my head.
A hint of a smile touched the corner of his mouth as he held my full weight in his arms like it was nothing. “Have I told you how incredible you feel?”
My hands tightened around his neck, but I wasn’t strong enough to deflect his words. “No,” I selfishly answered.
He leaned his forehead against mine again. “So fucking incredible.”
My chest constricted, and I couldn’t stop myself. I whispered my one desire. “Come inside me again?”
The hint of a smile turned into a promise, and he winked. “It would be my pleasure.” Then he was moving.
His cock buried deep inside me, his strong thigh muscles moving fluidly, his arms held me like he carried me all the time as he moved across his kitchen and down a hall.
He carried me into his heart and he carried me into his bedroom.
I was holding on to him, holding it together, until he cupped the back of my head with one of his giant, rough hands that could pull a trigger or tease my clit and he gently laid us on his bed.
It wasn’t his scent that overwhelmed me, or the size of his body or the care in his touch. It wasn’t the sound of pleasure that crawled up his throat as he lay me down and stroked into my heat. It wasn’t the cocoon of dark and false sense of safety I felt in this impossibly masculine Marine’s bedroom.
It was everything.
And it was all at once.
Water filled my eyes, and I sucked in a breath.
His slow grind immediately stopped and light from the hall cut across the angles of his face as he frowned. “I’m hurting you.”
As natural as breathing, I cupped his face. “No, no, you’re not.” Not my body.
His gaze briefly cut to my hand, my arm, as if taking in my gesture, then landed back on me. For one heart-crushing moment, he stared at me like he knew me. Then his lips landed on mine and he was flipping us.
The size, the width of his cock, he was so big he stayed buried inside me as he settled back against the headboard and held my waist. His chest rose with an inhale and his penetrating stare shifted to something I couldn’t decipher. “Talk to me,” he quietly demanded.
Talk to him.
While he was hard and inside me.
A stranger.
“I have nothing to say.”
“You have so much to say, it’s more inside you than I am.”
If the lights were on, or the curtains were open to the setting sun, he would’ve been able to see the heat on my face. “We’re strangers.” But it didn’t feel like it.
“Strangers can’t talk to each other?” Firm and reassuring, his hands moved up my sides.
“That’s what you want to do? Spend your last hours talking to someone you don’t know?” My voice may have spoken the words, but it was my tone that asked the question.
Without any reaction to my sarcasm, his thumbs reverently stroked the underside of my breasts. “When that someone is you, yes.”
All the things I wanted to say waged a war with what I should say. In a life where a single word was measured in obligation and repercussion, I wasn’t sure I knew how to converse anymore. But this giant warrior of a man was letting me straddle him, and he was letting me just be.
His breath came and went from his chest. His hands held and caressed and stroked. His cock pulsed every time I shifted, but he didn’t push.
I had the floor, and he made sure I knew it. Without words, but with actions.
I didn’t know this game.
I only knew Nathan’s brand of manipulation.
But Nathan wasn’t here.
Garrett was. And after tomorrow, he would be gone forever.
“This feels real,” I blurted out.
Nothing in his expression shifted, but his eyes, they changed. “Why can’t this
be real?”
“You’re not saying this, you’re saying we.” This game I knew. He was dancing around real words.
“Why can’t we be real?” he instantly repeated, adjusting the pronoun.
I was stark naked and his hard length was inside me, and a moment ago it felt as natural as breathing, but all of a sudden I was keenly aware of my vulnerability.
Placing my hands on his washboard abs, I leveraged myself up.
“Hey, hey, hey.” He caught my wrists. “Don’t pull away.”
“I’m not.” I was.
“You are.”
“You don’t know me,” I accused.
His voice softened. “It feels real to me too.”
“You don’t want real with me.” Not if he knew.
“What did I say about telling me what I want?”
“You’re leaving tomorrow,” I pointed out, only because it was easier than anything I could’ve said about myself.
“You’ve already left.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“The second I laid you on my bed, the woman in the kitchen I came inside disappeared.”
I fought for distance from the ache in my chest. “Call it what it is. We fucked.”
“I came inside you,” he corrected, before dropping his voice and adding, “I don’t do that.”
“Well neither do I,” I snapped.
“Then how isn’t this real?” He dropped his hand to where our bodies connected and caressed my clit with a single stroke that sent shock waves through my body. “How are we not real?”
Oh God, I wanted him to make me come again. “You came inside me once.” I fought for control of my voice. “That doesn’t make it real.”
“You don’t believe in love at first sight?” Brazen, naked, vulnerable, he asked the question with complete and total honesty.
I smirked to hide my shock and the crushing ache that immediately followed. “Lust isn’t love.” My chest caved in on itself as a flood of tears I refused to shed rushed in a torrent against the dam of my emotions.