She kisses my neck and pushes up off my chest, careful of my tattoo. I lick the remnants of her off my finger, and her eyes darken. Belle takes my mouth and I roll her over, never breaking our desperate kiss. I reach into my nightstand to find a condom.
Her ankles lock around my waist, and I’m dying to be inside her. Belle breaks our kiss and nips at my neck and shoulder. A little growl escapes her, surprising me, and I chuckle.
“Yes, baby?”
“I want you, Viktor.”
“You do?” I tease, and she slaps my ass. “Feisty!”
“Either you tear open that condom you’re holding, or I do.”
She’s as desperate as I am. That fact only turns me on even more. “The beauty can do the honor if she’d l—” The condom is pried from my hand, and I watch her tear it open with her mouth. I chuckle because she looks so fucking cute. She rolls the condom up my length, and my body stands to attention.
I press my dick against her heat and lean my weight on my elbows, careful of my leg. Bit by bit I press into her channel. She’s so tight and warm. Beads of sweat form on my body as I force myself to go slowly. Savoring the moment I’ve dreamt of so many times.
Her head tips back and her eyes close. “Look at me,” I tell her, needing all of her.
Our gazes meet, and the power in our attraction hits a new high. Never in my life have I felt this connected to another human being. If I were a woman, I would describe it as magical.
With one last push, Belle takes all of me. Her hips roll under me, a silent plea for me to move. The problem is we’ve barely moved, and I’m ready to explode. Her nails dig into me at the same time her heels push into my ass cheeks.
“Move, ple—”
This time my kiss is rough, and I pull my hips back. I pound into her, concern briefly tickling the outside of my conscious thought before Belle moans, “Yes!” All the encouragement I need erupts from that one powerful word.
My hips piston back and forth, and her walls contract around me, milking my dick. There’s no way I can keep this up much longer. I hold my release at bay and take one of her pink nipples into my mouth. I bite the puckered flesh and she cries out, falling apart under me.
I pound into her two more times, each stroke claiming her flesh as mine, before my body stiffens. With a roar, I come. I’m consumed by the intensity of my orgasm.
Belle’s fingers comb through my hair, and her lips take mine. This kiss is sweeter than the others. I show her with my tongue and lips how much our joining means to me. Words I can’t even express to myself.
“Belle, my sweet Belle.” I pepper the apples of her cheeks and eyes with kisses.
Her eyelids flutter open and our gaze locks. Emotions swirl in those dark windows to her soul, and she kisses me again softly. I run my nose along hers, breathing in her sweet scent. Neither of us speaks, enjoying the quiet company.
After a few minutes, I begin to worry that I’m crushing her. I remove the used condom and toss it into the waste basket next to my bed. I lay on my back and pull her into my arms. I’m at peace with her there. She belongs here in my arms, only I don’t know if I should tell her that.
In the peace, her breaths even out, and not soon after I follow her into a nap. A few hours later, I wake up wrapped around her body. Her back to my front, my arm tucked around her, and our fingers laced against her breasts.
These last few weeks have transformed me. For one, I used to question even continuing the next steps in my therapy. I gave up any thought to my life finding a new normal. My mom is dead. My leg is gone. My career ended the moment that IED went off.
I don’t know what to do with my life. Life with a prosthetic is much different than I expected. I know there is so much more to get through. I still can’t walk on this prosthetic for long periods. Who knows how long it will take me to reach wearing it for a full day?
Now my leg is bothering me as I lay here with Belle in my arms. I know I should have removed the prosthetic before falling asleep. My ego and libido took over, and I never took it off. I want Belle to see me whole. That is, as whole as I’ll ever be.
When the urge to use the bathroom surpasses my need to hold her, I carefully disentangle myself from her body. Steadier than without the prosthetic, I get up from the bed. My mind flashes back to the memory of the first time I tried to sit up in bed on my own at the hospital. It’s surreal how much harder it is to do such a basic movement after losing part of your body.
My stump aches and I stumble a few times, but I’m able to use the bathroom and return to bed without drawing Belle’s attention. My gaze lands on the creamy skin of her shoulder peeking out, and I push aside the frustrations clouding my mind. This woman is too good for me. I’m not quite sure what she sees in me, but I’m too weak to push her away.
Sitting on the bed, my back to her, I stare down at my legs. I grab the back of my neck and note all the differences. Hard vs. soft. Hairy vs. smooth. Human vs. carbon fiber.
Behind me, Belle shifts and her hands come to my shoulders. She kisses her way up my spine to my neck. The feel of her skin against mine sooths the frustration in me threatening to spill.
“Hi honey.” Her voice is sleepy and hearing it feels incredibly intimate.
“How was your nap, baby?” The words come out thick as my body reacts to her featherlight touch.
“Mmm…Really good.” She clears her throat and kisses my jaw. “Your leg needs rest. Go ahead and take off the prosthetic.”
