Page 65 of Beautiful Soldier

He winds his hand under my shirt, reaching up to palm my breast over my sports bra. He teases my nipple until it peaks at his touch.

I lean on my forearm at the same time he does, meeting in the middle as we kiss each other greedily. Bruising, punishing kisses that I have no doubt he doesn’t mean, but have me yanking his shirt off his shoulders and my fingers shaking as they work on the clasp of his suit bottoms.

He takes my hand and puts it on his hard cock right through the thin material. He pumps his hips forward, gasping in my mouth. I give him a quick squeeze before I’m tugging his pants and boxers down to free his cock.

He does the same with my leggings until they’re just past my knees before I swing my leg over to line up our bodies. He grips my hip, and I lower on top of him with a low moan.

With a hand on either side of my legs, he moves my leggings down until he can tug them off. My panties are a little harder, and I’m fairly sure he tears them in the process, but within thirty seconds, I have room to move over him just like we desperately need.

He lifts his ass, spearing me, and I cry out. He grins, and it’s hot as fuck as he maneuvers his suit pants down. I help him shimmy them off when I realize what he’s doing. We kind of went about this all wrong. Usually, you undress before you start fucking, but this is what it’s like when you just want to feel someone inside you right this fucking second.

I whip my shirt off next while moving over him. He runs his hands up my body, palming both breasts, teasing the edge of the cup where it meets my skin.

“Show me you want this as much as me,” he pleads.

I place my hands on his chiseled abs and ride him. I ride him straight into an orgasm that curls my toes. I fucking love this position. The friction on my clit. The view of him as he watches me fuck him. It’s everything.

He grabs a hold of the bottom band of my bra, yanking me forward, pulling my panting body down. He reaches behind me, unclasping the bra hooks in the back, and I’m so thankful I use the best of the best bras and not just the flimsy sports bras other women wear. It’s not because I have huge breasts, it’s because I don’t want them bouncing around when I train, but they’re also useful for easier access in moments like this.

He pulls the straps down my arms and tosses the fabric to the floor as he sits up, changing the angle. “Oh, fuck,” I breathe.

He lifts his hips, and we grind against each other, kissing like our lives depend on it. Like his lips are the only thing giving me oxygen to breathe and I’m a woman suffocating.

He kisses a trail down my neck, pausing at my collarbone before taking one of my nipples into his deliciously hot mouth. He tugs and pulls, teasing. My head falls back, giving him all the access he wants. He takes it, worshipping each of my breasts in turn while he fondles the other with expert fingers. The sounds in the room of just our bodies moving together and our harsh breaths commingling drown me in need.

We stay that way until my body is so locked up tight in anticipation of my orgasm that I start to shiver. He reaches between us. “Give it to me, babe.” His thumb grinds circles into my clit. “Give me all of it. I want to feel you come on me again.”

My mind obliterates. His other hand wraps around me tighter, making sure my movements increase against him.

“I want to see that orgasm face you have. I want that plastered in my memory for eternity.”

I desperately work myself over him as he presses down on my clit. The sounds coming from me sound animal-like, primal as I finally reach the catalyst and scream his name.

I collapse against him, and he rolls me onto my back. He doesn’t give me time to recover. He hikes my leg up over his shoulder, pumping in and out of me. Unbelievably, this new position awakens my body again. Just when I thought I was done and didn’t have enough for anymore, I’m desperately kissing him again, holding his face to mine, so I can ravish him like he’s ravishing my cunt.

“Tell me what you want,” I breathe in between kisses. “Tell me all of it.”

“You,” he sighs. “Just fucking you. I won’t always do the right thing.” He draws in a harsh breath. “Fuck. You feel incredible.”

I moan at his words. “I won’t always do the right thing either,” I admit. “But I will always be here for you.”

He pumps inside me, hips working overtime. Still, lines crease his forehead. “I don’t want to lose you,” he breathes, his nostrils flaring. “But I think I’m too late.”

In his eyes, a lost boy appears. A look I imagine he would’ve had when he was younger lingers. It’s far from the confident Johnny Rocket I’m used to seeing.

“I’m right here,” I tell him, taking his cheeks in my hand and pulling him down to wash those thoughts away. He can have me. All of me. He’s not late for anything.

He fists the sheets beneath us. “You like Brawler. I can tell.” He fucks me harder. His hips slamming into me until I can barely draw breath. “You want him like this, and I don’t want to share you.”

Separating what’s happening between our bodies and minds is almost impossible. “I like both of you,” I grunt almost on a cry. Fuck, he’s so good at this. Why do all of his truths come out when we’re like this? Desperate for each other?

“I’m going to kill him,” Johnny says, glaring down at me.

It’s a half-hearted threat. I don’t know if it’s because he’s balls deep inside of me, or if it’s because he doesn’t really want to.

“You’re just scared,” I tell him, arching my back. “But my feelings for anyone else have nothing to do with my feelings for you. They’ll always be the same.”

He grinds against me, a swirl of hips that has me gasping. He slows the pace as if he’s teasing me. “I’m going to fight for you.” He locks gazes with me, and I see the unsaid promise there. “This is all my fault, but I’m going to win you over. I’m going to treat you like the queen you are until you drop them and come back to me.”

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