august .

Everything starts so slowly that you don't even realize you're being devoured until canines have sunk into your flesh– until it’s far too late. 

You’re sitting in his lap, his hard cock straining against his jeans as the wood of his desk presses into your back.  “John, please,” you whine, fingers digging into his shoulders.

As his name falls so prettily from your lips, he finally understands the real reason why men fight in wars. “I made a vow, love,” he sighs, knowing the word itself is empty and meaningless to him when it's in the context of her. 

If you were a better person– a good man, like your captain– you’d pretend to feel an ounce of shame as you beg him to leave his poor, unsuspecting wife.

“I’ll treat you so much better, John. I’ll fuck you every night, suck your cock until I can’t speak, let you fill me up with your cum–”

He hungrily swallows each word, letting your pathetic pleas settle into his empty stomach as he pretends to think it over. 

Truthfully, he knew he’d be leaving his wife the moment he saw you, wide-eyed and hopeful, nervously shaking his hand with a soft promise to do your best. 

And the reality is that poor Mrs. Price, soon to be Ms, was served divorce papers months ago, on the very same day you first sank to your knees and swallowed every drop of his seed– though you’ll never need to know that. 

He picks you up and sets you on his desk, your thighs clenching at the sound of his belt buckle being undone– your shaky hands following his motions as you unzip your pants. 

“You’re gonna be a good boy for me, love? Let me cum inside your hole– fill him up real nice,” he rasps, pulling you back into his lap. 

The tip of his cock prods at your entrance, a hand squeezing the back of your neck. “Anything you want, John. I just– I need you to be mine,” you confess. 

John Price was taught that good men should never have to go hungry. He can tell by your esurient words that you want to be a good man– to be good for him. 

“Fuck,” you cry out, his thick cock splitting you open as he pushes himself into your tight hole. Your nails dig into the skin of his arms as he thrusts up into you.

Sex with John is never just a physical act; it’s something raw and primal, borderline voracious, the way he rolls his hips against you. You don’t have to wonder if he fucks her like this– because you know he doesn’t. 

The first and last time she’d been bold enough to show up on base, she spent her time in John’s office screaming at him– you can’t even deny the sick sense of pride you’d felt when she’d sobbed and admitted he hadn’t touched her once since you’d joined the team.

You choke on a moan, pulled away from your bitter thoughts as his fingers tug at your engorged nub. “Sorry, lovie, been so selfish, haven’t I? Forgot all about your poor, little cock,” he coos as he jerks you off, lips pressing kisses on the scars along your chest. 

“I’ll give you everythin’ you need, provide for you, make you my husband– make you a dad,” he whispers the promises in your ears, your walls clenching tight around him. “Gonna be a good man for you, love.”

Your stomach tightens, mind hazy at the thought of it all, as your walls tighten around him. “Please! Want that– want you–” You don’t have a chance to warn him before you reach your peak, body shivering as you cum all over his cock.

He doesn’t slow his pace, hips bucking up into you as he bites and licks at your chest. Your lower half aches, but you can’t bring it in you to make him stop– not when he’s deep inside you like this.

Every drop of his seed gets sucked up by your starving hole, your body sore but so full by the time his cock has stopped twitching.

The two of you stay like that, John caging you in his arms as if he’s scared you’ll run off at any moment– as if you’re not already caught in his jaws. “Been yours since the day you shook my damn hand,” he confesses. 

“Yeah?”

He nods, his hand intertwining with yours as he presses a soft kiss to the inside of your wrist. “You’re everything to me, love,” he says the words as if they’re a vow– a sentiment isn’t as comforting as he thinks it is.

You make the mistake of glancing at his desk, and light reflects off the gold band on his desk. “What about when we’re–” 

The word married feels too metallic on your tongue to say out loud– you let it slide back down your throat. “What about when you get bored with me, hm? Gonna leave me for the next young thing?” You tease, hand trailing down his arm as you give him a tight-lipped smile. 

It’s supposed to be a half-joke, something to make him scoff as he slips that god-forsaken ring back on and proves your worst fears right– proves her right. You weren’t expecting the possessive look in his eye or the way his mouth curls down at the very thought.

“Is that what you think this is? Some sort of mid-life crisis or just a way to make her fucking miserable?”

A small gasp leaves your mouth as his lips push against yours with a desperate greed– like a ravenous animal gnawing at a nearly whittled-down bone. You’re breathless, only able to shake your head and mumble out apologies as he pulls away. 

“This means something to me– you mean something to me. I’ve spent my whole life feeding off scraps of happiness and what I was told was love– then you came along–” The words are frantic, teeth snapping together as he defends your place in his life the way a hungry wolf safeguards its meals.

“Now that I’ve tasted you, there is nothing in the world that could compare. Do you understand me?” He growls, eyes dark as he forces you to look at him.

You know that if you agree, you might as well be laying yourself bare on the table for him to pick at, an apple between your teeth. “I understand, sir.”