Page 89 of Beautiful Soldier

“Yes, your bare cock.” I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry. Being this close to him without any barrier is a drug. I could shoot up with it and be high on life.

His dark, wild eyes watch my every movement. We grind against one another, and I lose myself in the chase of pleasure. I’m not quiet. I give Oscar every little piece I have inside me.

“Yes, right there.” I grind down over him, and he meets me, anchoring me with his hands on my hips.

The bed rocks and the frame hits the wall as I ride him. The rhythmic pattern of the thumps match my cries. “That’s right, Princess,” Oscar encourages. “Tell everyone.”

A low, throaty moan escapes me. I can’t wait until I can share my feelings for all of them with the world and not have to worry about the consequences. I don’t want to hide.

He cups my breasts as I increase my movements, slamming down on top of him as he spears me. “God, Oscar, I’m going to come,” I breathe.

His fingers curl into my skin. “Come on my hard cock?” He snakes his arms around to my ass, digging his fingers in while I thrash over top of him.

“Yes, right on your hard cock.” My orgasm hits, and it takes a heart-stopping moment before it slams into me full force. I cry out, and Oscar takes control of my hips to ride my orgasm out.

He flips me to all fours, entering me from behind before I’ve had a chance to fully recover. “Hands on the wall,” he commands

I crawl up the bed, reaching up to place my hands on the wall. Oscar moves with me until we’re at an all-new angle. “This tight hole is mine.” His strokes are relentless. A barrage that never stops until I scream his name as my core squeezes him. He takes a few deep breaths while I come, waiting until my own breaths even out before he starts again, his movements much slower this time, as if he wants to take his time.

“You like that dirty talk, Princess,” he practically coos.

I moan in answer. He has no idea.

His thighs start to shake, but he keeps the same pace, pulling almost completely out and sliding in to the hilt in a dramatically slow fashion. Even when his breathing hitches and I can tell he’s moments away from spilling, he keeps the same pace, grinding into me before pulling almost all the way out, fingers tightening against my skin. “Fuck, Princess. Can I come inside you? I want to fill you.”

I move back against him in answer, and Oscar loses it. He yanks my hips against his, holding me there while his cock jerks inside me again and again, a seemingly never-ending climax that he breathes harshly through, finally biting my shoulder playfully.

You couldn’t pay me to move from this position. Oscar coming inside me, the tight hold he has on my body like he doesn’t want me to move away. The warmth that fills me and surrounds me.

The ultimate acceptance.

Oscar doesn’t pull out. He covers me with his body while we get our bearings until he eventually falls out. As soon as he does, he reaches around, drifting his hands down my stomach and pushes two fingers inside my sensitive cunt. He plays in his own cum, whispering dirty thoughts in my ear about leaving pieces of himself inside me. Branding me. Claiming me. I eat it up, thrusting against his fingers and rubbing my clit over his palm until I come so harshly, I fall to the bed, exhausted and worn out. He moves to my side, pulling me against him, his hand cupping my sticky mound and the mixture of both of us just dripping there onto his needy fingers.

He kisses my back. “You’re never leaving.”

32

Oscar and I lie in bed together until I have to get ready for training. Soon enough, Johnny will be calling, wanting to pick me up to take me to the gym. Oscar told everyone he could take me, but they agreed that the car was safer than Oscar’s bike. Plus, I’m all for the car since more of us can be around each other that way.

Johnny sends a text five minutes before he knocks on the door. Oscar lets him in as I finish up in the bathroom, pulling my hair into a high ponytail for training. There’s nothing worse than having your hair get into your face when you’re trying to knock someone out.

I walk out to find Johnny looking around the apartment, nose curled up. I shoot him a look when he glances over at me. His lips curl into a smile though, and with that panty-melting look, who can stay mad at him?

He places his hand around my waist and kisses my temple. “Magnum’s in the car making sure no one’s walking by.”

“We’re in the Heights,” Oscar says. “They’ll look away. Especially now with bodies showing up. They won’t give up Kyla to anyone. Especially not until her fight tomorrow. They’ve been waiting months to see her fight again.”

The usual anxious nerves I get pre-fight don’t swamp me. If I was fighting anyone else but Brawler, I’d be ecstatic.

I want to get back to my regular life. I want to get back in the ring. I just don’t want to get in front of him, someone I care for.

“They’re going to be unhappy,” I breathe out, not looking forward to the shitshow that will follow this.

Johnny looks away. He was the hardest to convince that Brawler had to win. He knows his father though. He knows how evil he can be. Since he mandated this as one of Brawler’s initiation tasks, he can’t just not win.

“Did you talk to your father?”

“Let’s get in the car,” Johnny says, thrusting his chin toward the stairs leading down.

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