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“You’re going to spend the night with me.” Excuse me? Has he lost his mind? There is no way in hell I’m taking a chance of getting caught. And I most assuredly do not need any more distractions. This man has already squirmed his way under my skin by taking complete control of my existence out here. He will not consume me like this. Not before this mission.
“No, I’m not.”
“Do you have somewhere else you’d rather stay?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Then why not?”
“Because I want to stay focused and prepare for the mission.”
“That’s exactly what you shouldn’t do. If you worry about it, you’ll start second-guessing everything. There’s no way to plan for a mission like this overnight. This is what you’ve trained for years to do.” He has a point, but I’m not staying the night with him. He needs to know that I’m not at his fucking beck and call.
He moves closer and begins to touch me, not acknowledging the ‘no’ that leaves as a whisper from my mouth.
My body betrays me like it does every time I’m around him. It has to stop, and yet my skin comes alive again with his touch and my heart begins to beat rapidly with anticipation of his next move. I know he’ll undo me. He’ll have me begging in seconds if he continues. Knowing I have no choice, I turn and begin to walk away from him. My entire body is screaming at my stupid mind that has decided to regain logic and deny him what he wants. What I want, which is everything I should stay away from. How can one man be so condescending and make me crave him all at once? He’s so sure of himself.
Its dark out, the only light is the moon shining on everything, lighting it all up enough to see him when I turn around. He's following me back to my tent. I know him well enough to know he’ll come right in. He doesn't have boundaries, he's proven that time and again.
I make a detour and walk him back to the structure he stays in. Turning to face him once I get there, I watch his face as he gets closer. It's almost primal. He’s angry that I walked away, but I can't help him with his issues.
“Good night, Commander.” I say it with finality. With every intention that those are my final words to him, but he acts like he doesn't even hear me.
His steps get faster as he nears me, with him not stopping until he's crashed into me. His hands are on my face, pulling my lips toward his in an urgency I've never felt before. I don't pull back. Hell, I don't have time to process that I need to. He invades me.
His arms move around my body, pulling me closer to him. He wraps me up in his arms and walks us both until we’re inside the walls of headquarters.
My hands finally move to his back, and I slide my fingers over the ripples of muscle. He's fierce in his kiss, and I kiss him back just as hard. We explore each other’s mouths with a magnitude so forceful I feel my body begin to melt, blending with the desert heat. We're ferocious, our mouths parted and tongues tangling. For the love of god, this man can kiss as well as he can fuck. He’s a master at everything.
What the fuck is it about this man that makes me forget everything I've planned? It's like it is all rushed out of my head the second he causes chaos with his unpredictable intensity. How can I plan my reactions towards him when I have no idea what to expect from him at any moment?
He pulls my hair out of the tight elastic containing it, pulling me from his lips when he does. We breathe heavily together, while his eyes move across my lips before looking into my eyes.
“Don't fucking walk away from me.” His voice is deep, moving straight through my body and into my core as he continues. “You waste my fucking time and yours walking away from what will goddamn happen.”
He sits me on what feels like a stack of wooden boxes and quickly moves to pull off my shirt. Exposing my breasts with both hands, he moves close, licking and biting in the most perfect way. I'm not fighting him off. He feels too fucking good for that. He knows how to handle me, and I've never had someone treat me like this before. It may be fucked up, but it turns me on to a level so far beyond any man before him. There's something about knowing you're actually with a man that would be a challenge to you in a battle. Battling for control and the need to outdo each other would become a vital focus. A woman needs a man just like a strong man needs a woman. Kaleb and I could go at each other all damn day. The truth is, I’ve lost against him every single time. He’s slowly breaking my walls down and for the life of me, I can’t understand how he manages to do it every time.
He pushes me until I'm lying flat on my back, my legs still dangling off the side. His hands move fast to remove my boots and pants just before he spreads my legs and moves in.
His tongue is tight as he swirls it around, making me feel him all the way to the center of my body. He grabs my ass and lifts me closer to his face, making it almost impossible for me to stay quiet as his beard scrapes across my upper thigh. His nibble on my clit is my breaking point.
I try to squirm out of his hands, but he relentlessly holds me in place, devouring my orgasm in its entirety. His beard gives an added friction, and I find myself grinding my hips into his face before it's over. Shit. He’s overpowering and his intensity begins to eat me alive.
I'm sensitive to his touch as I come down from the full body spasm he causes.
“See what you fucking walked away from.” He unzips his pants and enters me quickly, filling me completely on the first thrust. My pussy is still throbbing, and I can feel every inch of him as he moves in and out of me. His thrusts are quick and firm, but not consistent. He's pausing between each thrust, making me think and messing with my mind.
“Look at you. You want to control this. You want me to go faster.” He thrusts harder and faster, then stops just when I start to feel good again.
“Or slower.” He keeps a steady pace, allowing me to get worked up before he goes back to the inconsistent thrusts.
“You can't stand the fact that I have you in a position of no control.” I think about what he’s saying. He's right to a point, but he needs to realize that I can still manage. Let’s see how he likes this.
I slide my hand over my clit and begin to make circular movements, throwing myself forward toward another orgasm and not caring what he does. His dick is doing its job, fulfilling the need I have to feel the fullness. The rest can be done easily on my part. But I know firsthand his long, strong fingers feel better than my own.
He grabs my wrists with both hands, puts them into one grip, then reaches for the belt on the pants at his knees. I’m panting and anger surges through me. I hate that I can't scream at him and tell him exactly how I feel. Hell, do I even know how I feel?
He doesn’t give me time to address my emotional turmoil. The thrill of his orders rings loud and clear in the deepness and in the way he speaks.
