Writing is what I do

"What're ya doin here, hmm?" he asks, his voice hushed, his mask barely clinging to the top of his face as if he doesn’t really want it on, but had to be sure who it was knocking at his door first. "Like I said, i's late."

He’s barely said a few sentences, but the proximity of his bare torso being so close you can make out all the details: old wounds, slight imperfections, the variation in color through the hair on his chest, leaves your mind reeling so that it’s hard to pay attention. You can already feel your pulse quickening and the words seem too thick in your throat to come out without shaking. 

This isn't the time to back down though; you’re a trained military operative and you came here for a purpose. You want this, you can still feel his mouth between your legs… you can do this.

"I...um... Wanted to take you up on your offer, sir," you answer.

Slowly he moves in even closer until he has you pushed against the door as he leans over top of you, resting against his arm that he props above your head. His pulsing is racing, but he keeps his body still as stone. "An' what's that?" he asks as if he can't remember what he said just a few hours ago.

He knows exactly why you’re here and he didn’t realize how much he really wanted this until this moment.

His fingers slip along the waistband of your pants, a light touch for fingers so rough and worn from tough work, but still effective in raising your temperature. He moves with precision, hoping he can mask the slight tremble in his touch. "Tell me whatcha want, little mouse," he says. His face is close to yours so that each exhale of word warms your skin.

"Need ya ta use your words."

The magnitude of his presence swallows you more than his physical size and you have to close your eyes as it leaves you unable to find your voice for a moment in the haze of rampant hormones raging. Surely he can hear each ragged breath you take as you desperately try to fill your lungs with enough air to speak. Will he change his mind if you keep acting so timid? 

His hand leaves your torso only for his palm to cup around your cheek. "Wanna hear ya say it," he groans, his voice low, dripping with need, but something else that you can’t quite understand, something that doesn’t feel quite like lust, but something more. "There's no reason ta be nervous. Jus’ need ta know you're gonna speak up for yourself."

With little effort, he tilts your face up just enough that as you open your eyes you make direct contact with his. His gaze is intense, yearning, but patient. 

He's waiting.

You swallow down the nerves tightening your throat. If you want this to happen, you are going to have to say it. "I want you... to fuck me."

A knowing smirk crosses his lips for only a moment before he easily pulls off the mask, tosses it aside, and leans in to take your lips slow and possessive. "Good fuckin' girl," he breathes the praise into your mouth.

With eyes closed, you wait on baited breath for the lieutenant to quickly drag you over to the bed and get to it, but each minute slips by and his lips only tangle with yours more with no sign of stopping, not even as you feel his hand slip between your bodies to find your arm. Taking your wrist in his hand he places your palm against his abdomen and runs it up to his broad chest, slowly, precisely, having you feel the contours of his body.

“Are we gonna…” your words are cut off as he runs your hand through a patch of hair in the middle of his pecs and you hum in your throat at the feeling of all that soft hair under your touch.

The lieutenant understands your question as he keeps your hand at the spot you seem to enjoy to linger a little longer."No need ta rush, we got all fuckin' night,” he murmurs back against your lips. “This ain’t somethin’ I wanna hurry."

He is moving your hand again and suddenly it feels so intimate as he guides your touch to one side of his chest and your breath hitches as he glides your fingertip delicately over his nipple in smooth, circular motions, hoping you can’t feel how hard his breath hitches at your touch.

A groan low and guttural rumbles up from deep in his throat. "Fuck... feels good."

He guides your fingertip over the hardening bud a few more times and you realize it: the lieutenant’s building trust with you by teaching you how to touch him. 

“Wanna touch ya, sweetheart. Will ya show me?" he asks as he places his hand in yours. "I need ta know what feels good to ya."

Switching your hand to his other nipple he follows your direction, wrapping around your hip where you’ve placed his hand to give it a squeeze before you are leading him up your torso under your shirt. 

“Why don’t we get this off ya, hmm?” he asks and you help him to pull the fabric up and off your head. 

He looks down at your bare breasts a moment and you flash a weak smile. “Didn’t think I needed a bra tonight,” you say before his lips are back on yours and his hand is put back on the last place it was so that you can continue to guide him. 

His rough hands send shivers down your spine wherever they grace along your warm, soft skin so that you’re struggling for air even before he’s reached the edge of your breast. You give into the feeling and lean into his kiss as you make him palm over that juicy bit of flesh at the top of your chest. Releasing him just enough so that he can take charge, he runs his fingers along the sensitive underside, tracing the length with a delicate touch. The sensation has you squirming even before those same fingers rub over your nipple to send shockwaves through your body. 

He smiles against your mouth. “Sensitive little things, aren’t they?” he breathes. 

Over and over he toys with the bud gently, rolling it in between his digits, pulling at it carefully, until you feel a rush of pleasure between your thighs and suddenly there is a craving to caress more than just his chest.

Your hand is twitching in his as if wanting more of him against it. "Whatcha want, little mouse?" he asks. 

Maybe it’s the pleasure flooding your veins and leaving your mind in a haze, but your answer is more bold this time. "I want to touch you lower. Can I play with you cock?"

He releases your hand from his grasp. "Undo tha string for me." 

You drag your knuckles down over the middle line of his body and feel him writhe at the sensation until you reach the waistband of his pants. With one good tug the drawstring keeping them secure on his hips comes loose enough that they can easily be gotten in.

Your hand securely back in his grasp he brings it into the confines of his pants. Your fingers brush over hair descending down his pelvis until you reach it and slowly he wraps your hand around his shaft. His girth fills a good bit of your palm and you can feel the veins running up the length, hard and throbbing with a pulse.

"Fuck... your touch feels good, sweetheart." Just the pressure from your hand gripped around him has him groaning deep as he starts to move your hand. “Like this, nice an’ steady… mmm….”

You’re trying to focus on the pressure around him, the rhythm he sets, to memorize just how he likes it even as the haze of ecstasy clouds your mind. His touch is so sure, so steady, so in control, that you can’t help letting yourself succumb to it. And yet, that isn’t the only thing that makes your mind falter.

It’s how his body is reacting to your touch. 

The sounds he makes as you stroke his cock, the way his hips slowly snap against your hand, it awakens something in you that needs more. You need more of the pleasure building between you and he needs to be between your legs now.

“Will you touch me between my legs too?” you ask and immediately his attention is back on you.

“Can do better than tha’,” he says, taking your hand away from him, but not out of his hold. “Come wit me.”

On the move, then on the bed he sets you down, his hands already on your pants. You help him to get them off and he tosses them aside before kneeling on the floor and pulling your body forward until you’re sitting on the edge. “Kissed your lips enough, got another set I wanna focus on now,” he says as he pushes your thighs apart enough to get his face between them. 

Goddammit he’s good at this.

“Want ya nice an’ relaxed,” he murmurs, mouth right at the lips of your pussy. “And definitely need ya ta cum for we do anythin’ else. Now, keep those pretty eyes on me. I want ya ta watch what I do to ya.”

Looking down, you watch him lean in to kiss those sensitive bits of flesh between your thighs, lavishing them with extra attention as if giving thanks before his feast. His kisses are tender and you can’t help but moan at the sensation; no one had ever been so obsessed with your pussy before, especially not someone who made your heart skip a beat.

The lieutenant has the time to be slow now, thorough, fully enjoying his new favorite activity: making you fall apart on his face with each stroke of his tongue. But first he will take his time. Kiss after delicate kiss, he presses into you until he can feel your hips as they start to writhe over his features and only then does he open his mouth to slip out his tongue and glide it up the slit between your lips. 

You brace your hand against your thigh as he parts you and shoves his tongue inside, dragging that thick bit of muscle up the length until he reaches that perfect little numb that rests right at the top, coating you in his saliva to help with the friction.   

Suddenly, the bulk of his tongue is pressed squarely up against your clit, sending shockwaves through your body so you have to grip into your thigh to have something to hold onto as your body sings with pleasure and your mind glazes over.

Lt. Riley can feel the reaction before he can hear it and he smiles into you. If he knew how much it would thrill him to have you fall apart at his hand, he would have pursued things so much sooner. And with a pussy like yours he could happily devour it for hours without stopping to come up for air. Right now, that’s exactly what he wants; he needs to eat you out more than he needs to breathe.

He needs to be smothered.

Ripping your hand off your thigh he places it on the back of his head and your fingers tangle in his hair, the pleasure surging through you causing you to hold him in place against you. Right where he wants to be. 

Fuck, he’s a sight to behold. So sure, so steady, so in control as if he knows your body better than you do, even with your fingers locked in the short, light brown strands that cover the top of his head to keep him to you. He has you, completely, and you let yourself go. 

His tongue begins to stroke at your clit, each stroke being observed for your reaction until he has your hips rolling with his movements so that he knows he’s hitting his mark. Your slick coats his lips, dances on his taste buds, as your pulse finds its way to that swollen bud. Goddammit it’s too tantalizing to ignore and quickly he locks his lips around it to suck it into his mouth to taste your heartbeat on his tongue.

Warmth is gathering in your core, a throbbing heat that feels on the verge of bursting open, and your fingers clamp down on his hair. “Fuck, right there, right there,” you murmur down to the tangled mass of man between your legs. “Don’t stop.”

A deep, rumbling hum into your pussy lets you know that he hears your plea and he braces himself for the finale by bringing the tip of his tongue back into play, keeping the pace of each flick even and steady. He counts the beats of the rhythm in his head to keep him focused, even though he is now ravenous to feel your release and taste its sweetness.

Tension, pressure, and then a snap as if a rubber band pulled to its limit as all that gathered pleasure floods your senses, overwhelming you as your head falls back and you clench your thighs around his ears, your fingers ripping at his hair still in your fist. You cry out into the silence of the room in shaky expletives and though the sound is muffled for him, he still enjoys the intensity of it.

Your orgasm courses through you and the lieutenant’s tongue is there guiding it the entire time, his pace never slowing until your whimpers quiet and you go limp against his mouth. Only then does he stop and finally emerge with a smile covered in your nectar.

You look at him through blurred vision, somehow more handsome a mess than he ever was to you, and watch as he licks his lips clean. “Fuck, sir, you are good at that,” you breathe out the exhausted words followed by a chuckle. 

He chuckles back and wipes the rest of your slick from the corners of his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’ve cum on my face twice now, sweetheart,” he says, “think we can dispense wit tha formalities. I’s Simon from now on, yeah? Least in private.”

Moving his body back between your legs he draws his face close and pulls you into a kiss that has you tasting yourself off his lips. “How do ya feel?” he asks as he breaks the connection.

You aren’t even hesitant with your desires anymore. “I feel like I really want you inside me now.”

Simon makes his way back onto his feet. “Move up the bed a little, luv,” he says as he slips out of his grey sweats and leaves them in a crumpled heap on the floor. 

You do as he says, but catch a glimpse of that thick appendage dangling between his legs, pulsing and stiff, and you can feel a throbbing of your own radiating in your pussy at the sight of it. Mere moments separate you from being filled and though you are aching for it, there is still a bit of apprehension trailing behind all that need.

What if he doesn’t enjoy this? What if you make everything fall apart with your inexperience?

Those thoughts are pushed back as Simon climbs onto the bed over top of you and reaches for something above your head. "Lift yer hips for me," he says as he grabs his pillow from the head of the bed. You do as he says and he situates it under your butt, making your hips tilt upward.

He catches the wrinkle in your brow. "It'll help, trus' me."

Slowly he positions himself between your thighs, adjusting your legs to sit up higher on hips. One arm he keeps himself up with while the other he finds your hand and tangles his fingers into yours, bringing it up to just beside your head to rest.

His cock throbs at the lips of your pussy and even though the nerves are still churning in your stomach, his hand in yours helps to tether you in the moment. 

"Ya ready for me?" he asks, never breaking eye contact.

The word comes more confidently than you thought you were capable. "Yes."

"We're gonna go slow, yeah?" he reassures. "Want ya ta guide me in. If ya need to stop, ya stop. Understand?”

You nod and you’re met with a swift kiss. Mouths still connected you move your free hand down until once again you have his shaft in your grasp and align it with your entrance. Simon grunts into you as his tip presses into you and his hips move with you to help you get him in. 

Pressure, a little more than you expected, and he’s in only a little past the tip. 

Your back arches up off the mattress as you moan back into him. Quickly he pulls back, trying to stay sane as he looks into your face. “Ya alright?” he asks as he reads your expression until you reassure him with a nod. “Jus’ give it a second. Your body needs time ta adjust ‘fore we do anythin’ else.”

The initial pressure slowly begins to subside as Simon lowers his head towards your chest.

“This’ll help,” he murmurs before his lips are wrapped around your nipple. Gently he sucks on the bud, rolling his tongue over it. You start to feel the sensation in your pussy and soon his girth feels comfortable enough to keep going.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders. “Want to keep going,” you mutter behind closed eyes and without even lifting his mouth from you, he rocks his hips slowly until he's thrust in more and is resting completely inside you down to the base.

You moan out into the silence, this time enjoying the fullness stretching you out. “There ya fuckin' go, sweetheart,” he praises with his lips still against your skin. “Hard part’s over. Ya did it and so fuckin’ good too.”

His praise is punctuated with another kiss as he raises his head back to find your mouth, this one gentle and calm as his fingertips trickle over the warm skin of your hip as he lets the time pass until he can feel your body relax. 

“Should I keep goin’?” he asks finally, but even as you nod with your eyes still closed he hesitates. “Then I need ya ta look at me, jus’ for a second.”

He pulls back and your eyes flutter open to find his. “I want ya ta know tha’ ya don’t need ta cum, alright? If ya can’t i’s nothin’ ta do with ya, got it? Ya didn’t fail; it jus’ needs ta feel good. Yeah?”

You nod in understanding and are met with a kiss that feels like praise as his hips slowly begin to move. More pressure, but this time it’s…nice. The manual contraction and release of your body is no longer uncomfortable like at the start, the longer he goes the more tantalizing it gets and the more he thrusts the more you want. 

Simon knows he’s done the prep work right when not even a few minutes in and you’re moaning steadily, an encouraging sign to go a little faster. “You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good, sweetheart,” he mutters as he picks up the pace only slightly. “Takin’ me so well.”

You respond well to the change and meet his movements with your own, using your legs around his hips as leverage to rock your hips with him in what feels good. He hums in approval and it gives you the confidence to keep at it, enjoying the sensation. 

“Fuck, ya look so good like this,” he growls as he moves in to press his forehead against yours as he continues to thrust in smooth strokes. “Ya really are incredible, ya know that?”

His words work just as well as his thrusts in unraveling your sanity. Is this what a first time is supposed to be like? You’d heard your friends talk about their horror stories, of confusion and let downs, of awkward and uncomfortable, but being here under Simon feels so… right.

Your thoughts are violently brought back into the present as there is suddenly touch slipping down between your bodies and now his finger is once again locked onto your clit to draw circles over it as his cock still splits you wide.

“Does this feel good?” he asks and immediately is met with a mumbled ‘yes’ followed by a moan.

He should have asked first, but he is overwhelmed with everything happening. The way you body feels wrapped around him, the sounds of your pleasure filling his head, your scent still lingering on his lips, being tangled with you, that he can’t help himself. Selfishly he wants you to cum again, needs it, and he wants to do all he can to achieve it. 

And he’s struck the right cord because you are whimpering faster and faster as if something is happening that you had not expected.

“Ya gonna cum for me?” he asks and you nod against his head. “Jus’ listen to my voice an’ relax. I’s you an’ me now yeah? Hold onto me, hold on tight, an’ jus’ let go. You can fuckin’ do it, luv.”

That sensation in the pit of your stomach is gathering again, in hot, churning waves fast and faster. You’re right on that edge, right at the finish line, it’s within reach. His fingers working your clit, his cock stretching your hole, his encouragement in your ear are enough to get you there and you fall over the ledge for the second time tonight. 

Simon’s room is suddenly filled with the sound of your open-mouthed whimpers as you writhe beneath him and your core clenches around his cock. “Fuck, there ya go, there ya fuckin’ go, sweetheart,” he’s able to get out before a few more thrusts into your fluttering walls and he has to quickly pull out to cum on your stomach.

Warm ribbons of cum coat you as you continue to ride out the intensity of your orgasm to the sounds of your lieutenant’s grunts until he’s milked himself dry and sits back on his legs to wait for you to calm before he moves.

He gets up and searches along the floor, picking up an old t-shirt to bring back with him to clean you off before he throws it back down where he had found it and crawls back into the bed beside you, his arms immediately wrapping around your body to pull you flush to him.

“Ya did so fuckin’ good, sweetheart,” he murmurs into your face as he nuzzles his nose against yours. “An’ look a’ tha’, ya actually came for me.”

Your heart flutters in your chest, no longer from the nerves of doing something you’d never done before, but because of the tenderness in his words. They seem a little too sweet, a little too caring, something that was for more than a one time fuck. 

Maybe… maybe…

Simon’s rough fingers draw patterns along your bare back as he holds you close, both of you simply breathing in the comfortable silence that washes over you. Your heartbeats start to sync and he counts each thud he can feel, strangely grateful to have shared such a moment with you.

…and secretly hoping to share more going forward.

Not that you’re trying to read patterns that aren’t there, but you swear that that hulking military officer has been in your bubble more and more lately. Could this just be an intimidation tactic… or possibly something m… No, you aren’t even going to allow yourself to entertain such a ridiculous idea. Sure, there might have been a time where it almost seemed like there was something there between the pair of you, but that time had long since passed after you decided that someone as seasoned as the lieutenant couldn’t possibly want to get involved with someone as inexperienced as you.

Quickly you break eye contact and turn your body back around, but it doesn’t feel fast enough and that fills you with anxiety; you don’t need him thinking your look means something more than it does. His presence is just a surprise, that’s all… at least that’s what you keep trying to convince yourself of, repeating the phrase in your head until your heart rate slows. 

Behind you, Lt. Riley watches you fidget with your hands while you keep your head plastered unnaturally straight ahead. He’s grateful for his choice in attire as his balaclava perfectly hides the smirk that is now on his lips as he silently chuckles to himself. You were quick, but not quick enough that he wasn’t able to catch the heat that had risen in your cheeks as you hurriedly turned away from his sight.  

Those coffee-colored eyes linger on the back of your head as he recalls all the times in the past couple of weeks the same thing has happened, when he’s caught you off-guard by being nearer than you expected. It had started by accident, just being at the right place at the right time, but once he saw the flush in your cheeks as that nervous smile filled out your mouth he found himself interested in making it happen again and again. Now it’s become a game and even though he knows he shouldn’t, he likes how flustered you get just being under his silent gaze. 

Just a bit of innocent fun, that’s all, he thinks to himself, not letting himself even entertain that it might not be so innocent at this point.

You just make it so easy for him to mess with; it’s not like he has to have some ulterior motive behind his actions, right? He had already made his decision to not allow to get involved with a bastard like him, but that doesn’t mean he can’t enjoy making you nervous with barely any effort.  

The loud sound of a throat being cleared brings the lieutenant’s attention back into the present. The last of the members have finally gathered around and the captain moves back to the front of the group ready to speak. Lt. Riley makes one last move and takes a few steps closer towards your back to watch you tense to his presence which causes certain intrusive thoughts to suddenly creep up to the surface of his mind, making it harder to pay attention to what the captain is talking about.

“Rules are simple,” Captain Price says in his usual firm, authoritative voice as he hands a stack of blue velcro patches to the closest member, beckoning him to pass them around. “Each of ya take a patch. You must wear it on your shoulder and it must be visible at all times. Once the word is given, the timer starts. You have ten minutes to prepare your initial hiding point before being let loose.”

The stack of patches gets handed to you and you take yours before passing them back to the lieutenant with a slight tremble in your hand as your gloved fingers brush past one another. You curse yourself at how pathetic you’re being about this; you want to prove yourself with this training and there is only one person that you worry about: the lieutenant. If you can’t pull yourself together, you may be out of this before it even begins.

“After that, a gunshot will signal that the game has begun,” Price continues after a brief pause. “You’ll have till 2100 hours ta gather as many of your fellow team members patches as you can however ya see fit. Don’t make me regret this by injuring each other. Keep it safe, but do what ya must ta get your marks.”

There is heat near the side of your face, but you don’t turn to face it. Instead, you catch yourself holding your breath to stand as still as possible as the lieutenant’s gruff voice is now in your ear. “Good luck, little mouse,” he says before moving back.

You struggle to regain your composure again as Price’s voice cuts back in. “Your ten minutes starts…now.” 

And just like that everyone takes off in different directions, plotting as they move, concocting strategies that they hope will get them a win. You clamber your way to the outside of the building at first, but once you catch sight of a few others that also seem to have had the same idea, you suddenly feel too exposed to stay and cautiously make your way back inside.

The sun sits lower towards the horizon as you make it to the top floor of the building, up a back stairwell. You risk diverting your eye line on your surroundings to check the watch on your wrist; it’s been a good hour and a half since you’ve seen another soul, but you don’t feel safe in the slightest. Just because you don’t have visuals on any movement, doesn’t mean that there’s no one there. Years of experience and training have taught you to stay on constant high alert no matter the circumstances. Even though you are apparently all alone, you try to slow down your movements to reduce any unnecessary noise and yet even with how carefully you advance through the area, even the sound of your heartbeat seems to echo off the walls. 

The thrill of being on high alert makes your limbs tingle, but you can’t afford to slack, not when every person on this team is at the top of their game and if you want to come out on top you’re going to have to push yourself harder.

You come to yet another corner and you pause to listen before slowly peeking around it. There’s nothing but empty space waiting for you in the next room and you take a couple steps out into it, ready to clear the area more thoroughly, when everything comes crashing down as you are grabbed, pulled around the wall, and slammed into it. Your eyes focus on the person pushing into you and your breath catches in your throat as you realize who is staring back at you– it is none other than the masked lieutenant himself.

The decaying wall behind you gives slightly under the pressure as Lt. Riley pins you against it by your shoulders, using his wide forearm to bear down on your sternum to keep you contained while also keeping one of his hands free to use. “Well, well, well, seems I caught a little mouse creepin’ ‘bout,” he mocks and you can hear the cocky, self-satisfaction brewing in his tone. “Gotta be more fuckin’ careful than that, luv. You’re not as quiet nor as stealthy as ya think ya are. Been tailin’ ya for a while, just waitin’ for the perfect moment ta move in.”

You struggle against his arm, but it does little good. There’s too much of him and not enough of you. 

“How did you even hear me?” you ask. “I barely breathed.” 

He chuckles in that deep, bassy voice. “Ya should fuckin’ know nothin’ gets past me.”

Those dark eyes from within his skull mask look down to find the bright blue patch at the top of your arm as you continue to struggle to unsuccessfully wriggle from his grasp. His hand reaches to the patch on your bicep to rip it off and claim his prize, but before he can grab it you react by kicking at his shin with the heel of your boot which makes him stumble back just enough that you are able to wriggle your way from under the pressure of his arm. 

You take a quick step to pivot so you can run off and you almost get away, but his recovery is too quick. Striking out his foot he trips you so that you tumble to the ground; now he can keep you better subdued. 

Quickly you try to roll to your side so you can get yourself back up, but he is already on top of you, pushing you back down so that you lay supine as he swings a thick thigh over your lap. You’re pinned under him and with the bulk of that 6’4” military man on top of you there is no chance you’ll get lucky enough to escape again.

It’s over for you.

That dark gaze stares back down with you as he works to regain his composure, his chest heaving up and down laboriously with each strained breath that he intakes to recover from the sudden rush of adrenaline through his veins.

"Not fuckin’ quick enough, little mouse," he pants. “Did ya fuckin' think ya could get away from me?”

Once more his hand reaches for the patch on your arm, this time without any worry that he won’t get it. “Best hold still,” he says, that gravelly tone lower after the noisiness of the tussle as to not draw any unwanted company before he can get himself up and out of the area. 

Lt. Riley still has more hunting to do and being detected already isn’t going to help. 

Even as the velcro starts to pry apart, you still decide to give your last bit of effort and squirm in his gasp, not ready to admit defeat even in the face of the inevitable. “You’re not gettin’ away, luv,” he says as the distinct sound of velcro ripping away from itself echoes across the bare walls that conceal you both.

“If you think I’m gonna give up without a fight, you’re dead fucking wrong, lieutenant,” you say through gritted teeth as you twist your shoulders, but to no avail.

“Feisty thing,” he picks, slapping your patch just below his on his vest. “Lotta good it did ya.”

Secured on his person, he looks back down. “Now, what am I gonna do with ya?” he questions with a chuckle. 

You scowl up at him as you lay there panting through your own rush of adrenaline. Is it all from the struggle, though? As you continue to look up at him from your position on your back, you aren’t so sure anymore. You can feel something changing in the atmosphere between you both, the charging of the atoms around your bodies as you stare back up into the intimidating masked face of your lieutenant as he towers over top of you, his wide thighs resting against the sides of your waist.

Catching his eyes, you notice something wash over his gaze: instead of that determined, steady gaze, he peers down at you with a look that makes your heart skip a beat. 

And for good reason. There is only one thought going through Lt. Riley’s head now: Fuck, you look good on your back. 

You flush hot all over, drawn into the intensity in his eyes. It’s intoxicating to be under that coffee-colored gaze, being the only person who has his full attention. Lost in that revelry it takes you a minute, but that's when you feel it: the outline of something hard poking you through the crotch of his pants. 

Is that what you think it is? Oh fuck, he’s getting hard. You should stop, right? But you don’t want to and for some reason he isn’t stopping you. At least he wasn’t, but now your gloved hand is in his as he brings up off of him and towards his mouth. 

And yet… 

You watch on wide eyed as he pulls up the lip of his mask up and situates it to rest over the bridge of his nose, exposing the lower half of his face. Grabbing the cuff of your glove between his teeth he rips the fabric up to expose the delicate skin of your palm. He spits the fabric from his mouth, tossing it aside before bringing your hand back down and placing it over the bulge growing near the zipper of his pants. 

"Ya feel that, little mouse? How hard I am?" he asks as he presses your hand into the stiff peak. "That's what you fuckin' do ta me." 

Your breath catches in your chest as your heartbeat thuds violently against your ribs. The feel of a distinct pulse now rhythmically thumps against your palm, making the heat in your face rise until your cheeks feel swollen and on fire and your mind goes static.

What do you do? What do you want to do? 

Suddenly, as if piloted by instinct alone, you begin to move your hand up and down over the swell and he can't help the deep groan that escapes through his lips. The bassy sound causes a throbbing between your closed thighs, an ache that suddenly gathers in the pit of your stomach. You continue to slowly rub along the mound, enjoying the way his cock leaps at your touch as it grows even more stiff.

Silence fills the space around you as the lieutenant reciprocates your action by rolling his hips into your hand, grinding against the warm surface of your palm in a motion that fills your head with a need to see him actually take you. Desperately you squirm beneath him to clench your thighs together tighter to relieve the building pressure and he senses your movement. 

"Is it achin'?" he questions quietly, his voice husky with his need. “Do ya need somethin’ ta take the edge off?” 

It takes you a few seconds for your brain to comprehend the question, but when you do you can only nod your head in response as your mouth suddenly feels too dry to create sounds. 

The lieutenant sits still for a moment, head cocked to one side and then the other. It looks as if he is listening for something, but other than the sound of the beat in your ears and his panted breaths there is nothing. You are both all alone, secluded in this remote section of the large building, as the shadows grow ever longer with the incoming night. The last he had seen the rest of the team they were nowhere near this area.

There’s no one to interrupt what is rapidly unfolding between you, but he knows that could change in an instant. He needs to be fast. 

Turning his attention fully back to you, he pauses. This is a terrible fucking idea, but the way you look pinned beneath him, your hand stroking over his hard cock, that doe eyed, begging look that you keep giving him, it's too much to handle. Simon Riley is a man of restraint, but at this moment all the training he has endured to reach this point in his career fails him.

All that suppressed desire comes bubbling to the surface like a tidal wave. Lost in the heat of the moment he cannot deny his attraction anymore than he can deny the air trying desperately to enter his lungs to calm him, but failing. 

“Fuckin’ hell, ya don’t know how bad I need ya,” he says in a groan that nearly stops your heart. 

A haze clouds your mind that you drunkenly watch through as your superior leans down into you, the bulk of his weight compressing your chest as his hungry lips immediately steal your mouth with such deadly force that it feels as if the pair of yours are magnetized and he can’t keep them from being violently drawn together. The feeling is unfamiliar and overwhelmingly intense, knocking the wind from your lungs while filling you full of his contagious desire.

Pinned beneath him into the broken flooring and at his mercy, you are falling apart as your head swirls with an ecstasy you have never felt before. It is true that your lips had caressed others before his, but not like this, never like this, and it awakens something in you… something instinctual.

In that moment, you give yourself over to that feral side of yourself, the one that had always been hiding under the surface, but never allowed to come into the light. Everywhere he touches comes alive and the further he goes up under your clothes, pulling up layers to glide his hands along your curves, the more your body desperately craves.

Your movements are hesitant, but exploratory, greedily digging up under his tactical vest covering his torso to get to the burning, sweat-slick flesh lying beneath. A patch of short, soft hair meets your fingertips as you get up through the bottom of his shirt and make contact with his lower abdomen. His skin feels like it’s on fire under your palms and you moan into his mouth as your hands study the contours of his hips and stomach through touch alone. 

Fuck, he can’t wait; this needs to happen now before someone comes to ruin this.

“Gotta make it quick,” he pants as he hastily reaches between your bodies and rips down the zipper on his pants. “Are ya wet?” 

The sound hits your ears and suddenly it all becomes too real. This is really happening. And though you don’t want him to stop, there is a secret that is burning a hole in your chest that you can’t hide away anymore.

Lt. Riley can feel you suddenly go rigid under him and pauses his movements to prop himself up by his arms so that he can look into your face. He stares into your eyes, panting through his need. “Ya alright?” he asks.

You suck your bottom lip into your mouth to nervously pick at the skin with your teeth as you hesitate to respond. Anxiety has its grip in you at the thought of what you are about to admit, but you know that you are going to have to speak up because you are out of your element now and he is going to know it soon enough.  

“I- I’m…I mean, I- I haven’t ever…done something like this,” you stammer out the confession,  admitting the embarrassing information while you suddenly avoid his gaze. 

His brow furrows under the pulled up mask. “Ya mean where ya can get caught?” he asks to clarify as he doesn’t understand. “We’ll be quick.”

You shake your head. It’s worse than that, you think to yourself. “I…” you take a breath and your stomach drops, “I’m still a virgin.”

The realization of your words washes over the lieutenant like cold water. It never would have occurred to him that you had no experience in that area, but even so he isn’t judging. You probably have your reasons and that is fine, all he cares about is what he does right now. This isn’t the time or place to give you an experience that intense that you’ve never had before. He wants to be able to take his time and make it a memory you won’t ever forget and that isn’t going to happen on the dirty floor of this derelict building.

He begins to move back. “Please…don’t stop…” you beg as you reach out for him, but Lt. Riley is already sitting himself upright and zipping himself back up. 

Those big brown eyes look down at you and he shakes his head. “Not like this,” he says. “This ain’t how your first time’s gonna be.”

Throwing his leg over your body, he moves off from on top of you and kneels besides your legs. Your hands instantly move up to your face and you frustratedly cover your eyes in a vain attempt to calm the storm of hormones raging inside, thinking that all of this buildup is going nowhere all because you couldn’t just keep your mouth shut. 

You keep your face concealed while waiting to hear the fading crunch from the soles of his boots as he leaves, but the sound never comes. From the blackness behind your palms you feel something tugging at the clothing near your belly button and quickly you remove your hands and open your eyes to see your lieutenant leaning over top of you, his tactical vest removed and set on the floor as he hurriedly begins undoing the belt on your pants.. 

“We ain’t got much time left, but I can’t leave ya fuckin’ empty handed,” he grunts with a smirk as he finally frees the buckle from itself. “Won’t take your virginity ‘ere, never said I wouldn’t make ya come. Gotta finish what I started. Ya want that, little mouse?”

You don’t say a word, just stare while he works, but that won’t do. Lt. Riley isn’t going to take anything that isn’t explicitly given to him and unless he can hear you say it out loud that you want him to give you a parting gift, he isn’t going to continue.

“ ‘less ya want me ta stop,” he says as he removes his hands from your waist.

Immediately you sit up just enough to grab at his wrists and secure his hands back onto you right at the fastener on your pants. “Don’t you fucking dare,” you breathe the words in an angered huff. “I want it, please.”

Lt. Riley smirks. “Good fuckin’ girl,” he praises.

Those long fingers draw the waistband of your pants together to unhook the button, quickly ripping down the tab of the zipper before he is sliding the dense clothing off your hips and down the length of your legs. “Need these fuckin’ things outta my way then,” he says as he bunches the pants legs up at the top of your boots. 

Time is of the essence and he has to choose his actions carefully, wasting time taking off everything is too risky; just the essentials will have to do. As soon as he gets your pants low enough, he crosses his arms over his torso and quickly rips up his shirt off his body and throws it on top of his vest.

“Can’t risk gettin’ anything on me, don’t need them fuckin’ nosey bastards gettin’ curious,” he answers the curiosity in your cocked brow from the question that you haven’t asked. “This’ll be our secret, yeah?”

You can’t complain, as soon as that shirt is up over his head you get an eyeful of absolute perfection in the form of bulky muscles that line his thick torso covered in a mouthwatering bit of hair that leads down into the top of his pants. From the way his clothes always hugged his body, you knew that man was big, but fuck seeing it in person is a whole other story. And now you desperately need to feel that girthy torso spreading your thighs wide as the throbbing that was just poking against you fills you full. 

Not wasting another second he slips your legs over his head to wear them draped around his shoulders like a necklace as he slides his body in on his hands and knees so that his face is close to the panties still covering your pussy; one last impediment to his goal. Hooking his fingers into the crotch of the small swath of fabric cloaking your cunt, he pulls it out of his way and his breath hitches at the sight. 

It’s better than he could have imagined. Immediately he meets those soft, pillowy lips with his as he places a few tender kisses to them and already the contact has you squirming over his features. 

Goddamn, you have a pussy he could lose himself in.

Pulling his hand in, he spreads your lips with his fingers to find your clit through them. "Let's see how good ya taste, little mouse," he groans before he locks his lips around you and his tongue slithers its way from between his lips to find its mark. 

The moment the tip of his tongue makes contact with your clit you see stars and your back arches off the ground. Touching yourself was one thing, you know your own body, but having the control given to someone else with the experience to know just how to do it, makes you instantly weak.

With a hand gripped into your hip he takes you like he owns you and you've never felt more desired before. Over and over his tongue laps between the lips of your pussy, rolling over that sensitive nub with skill and precision. This is what he has craved all this time, to make you come undone, and several times his eyes dart up to catch a glimpse of your face as you lose yourself in the sensation of it all.

Your honey fills his mouth and dances along his taste buds as he buries his face into you even further, not caring about the cloth still sitting on his face. If your scent melts into the fibers then it will only serve as a reminder of what happened here. Everything outside of your thighs gets forgotten as his lips lock around that nub and he sucks it into his mouth and you buck wildly over his features, the heels of your boots digging into his back that only makes him moan at the delicious sting. 

Is this what it’s like to be craved by another? Fuck, you could get addicted to this. All that desire being unleashed in the way he devours mixed with the excitement from being taken by the lieutenant and the risk of being so exposed like this has your orgasm rapidly approaching faster than you thought possible.

“Ahh, getting… close,” you murmur out, struggling to keep your voice low. 

"Tha's it," he grunts as he surfaces for a quick inhale of air from between your lips, "come for me. Cum on my fuckin’ tongue, little mouse." 

His large hand spreads out across your pelvis to push it down as he nuzzles the tip of his nose against your clit so that his tongue can strike up inside that dripping hole. Your juices mix with his saliva and dribble down his chin and out from the corners of his mouth to pool on the ground beneath you both, but he doesn't slow. 

He keeps the pace of his movements steady, making sure that nothing breaks his focus so that he can keep up the tempo. You’re gonna come for him, it’s the only thing he wants now; he desperately needs his head to be crushed between these beautiful thighs. 

Suffocate me, sweetheart, he demands silently.

You whimper behind closed lips in an attempt to keep the noise down, but it is getting harder and harder to hold it in. The warmth in your belly is gathering quicker now to match the pulsing down between your legs. Just a little more and the wave of heat will flood your limbs violently. Reaching down, your fingertips dig into the muscles in his shoulders and he groans deliciously into your pussy.

You’re so close. 

Then you feel the tensing and all at once you fall silent as that tightness snaps with an explosion that makes your body go rigid with a severe arch in your spine. You dig the back of your head into the concrete with your eyes shut as your thighs forcefully clamp together and you moan deep in your throat. Waves of hot pleasure course through you until your limbs tingle and yet that agile tongue of your superior continues to stroke you through it all as you squeeze his head like a vice.

Lt. Riley can’t see, he can’t hear, all he has is the throbbing of your cunt to keep him going. And fuck is that enough. 

Time is forgotten as you ride out your pleasure to the very end and just when you think you can’t take anymore of that overwhelming sensation, the feeling begins to die down and you can relax and release your captive.

A coated and messy lieutenant emerges from between your legs with a smile plastered to his mouth that still wears you around it. “Ya did so fuckin’ good for me,” he praises as he uses the back of his hand to wipe away the cum and saliva from around his lips. 

Your legs are carefully moved from his shoulders and lowered to the ground and without a word, those strong hands are pulling them back up. “Lift your hips for me, tha’s it,” he says as he finishes bringing them back and up and rebuckles them even though you hadn’t asked.

Only once you’re situated does he redress himself and then offers you his hand to help you back up to your unsteady feet. “C’mere,” he grunts as he pulls you tight to him and leans down to kiss your lips and you can taste yourself off his.

Still in a daze you rub your hand absentmindedly over your stolen patch stuck to the front of his and the lieutenant laughs into your mouth, thinking you are trying to take back what he got fair and square. “Oh no, I’m still keepin’ this, luv,” he says. “We’ll call it a consolation prize for what I just gave ya.” The lieutenant kisses you one last time. 

“And ya know, the offer stands if ya still want me ta fix that other thing,” he says. “I’ll make sure ta do it right.”

With that he leaves you to finish composing yourself so you can walk back to the meeting point to wait for the rest of the team to finish the exercise. Your mind is still reeling a couple hours later with thoughts as you try to process everything even as the team loads into the transport vehicles to make the way back to base. Your sight continues to dart over to Lt. Riley’s form sitting down at the end opposite you, wondering what you’re going to do.

Do you take him up on his offer or do you let this be a one time thing?

At the other end, the lieutenant watches you from the corner of his vision as your eyes keep jumping back to him. Your scent is woven into the fibers of his mask even as it still lingers on his lips and the stubble around his chin and every time he breathes his heart races a little more. Will you decide to let him have you again and even go further? He won’t let his need get the better of him yet, but as the short journey ends and everyone begins to file out of the vehicles, he heads back to his room hoping that you’ll take him up on his offer.

The night is getting on fast when out of the silence there it is. Knock, knock, knock. Quick, soft, timid right on the lieutenant’s door. He gets up from his bed, heart beginning to pound as he reaches for the lock. 

More silence follows until the lock clicks and the door opens to reveal you standing there. The lieutenant meets your gaze, but soon your attention is drawn to the pair of old sweats that cling low on his hips and the lack of shirt that leaves his chest bare. He looks you up and down and chuckles as if he’s been expecting this.

“It’s late, little mouse,” he greets you before moving to the side, a gesture clearly meant for you to come in. 

You’re pushed back fast and harshly pinned to that same wall, several inches from the knife buried in it. The rough, unfinished texture tears at the leather of your jacket as you try to break free from whoever it is that has you, but no matter how hard you struggle you can’t get away. You can taste copper on your tongue now, a fresh cut on your lip from where you have bit it as you are jerked around, though the damage is hidden as your mask still holds in place across the bottom half of your face.

Blindly you try to reach for the weapon embedded somewhere to your side, a last ditch effort to help you escape, but the movement doesn’t go unnoticed and it is immediately punished. This isn’t good. 

“No ya fuckin’ don’t,” a gruff, male, thickly accented voice spits into your face as your wrists are quickly gathered in only one of those hands before your arms are wrenched above your head and secured to the wall as he retrieves his knife back. 

Your breath catches in your throat at the sound of the man’s voice and as you settle from the skirmish you immediately lock eyes with a tall soldier, his face completely covered under his headset by a black balaclava with a hard skull mask sewn onto it so that only his dark eyes are visible through the tiny opening.

“I suggest ya stop fuckin’ movin’,” your captor says plainly and with authority, but you aren’t going to listen. 

You twist your body trying to throw him off one last time. “Or what?”

Sharp, cold metal presses into your neck right against the vein that could easily end it all and you stop dead in your tracks. “I said stop movin’. Now.”

“Easy, soldier,” you say to smooth things over while you struggle to catch your breath. “You get a little too heavy with your touch there and you could make a mistake you’ll regret.” 

“Worry ‘bout yourself, Siren,” he shoots back, speaking your alias like a curse that he can’t wait to get the taste of off his tongue. “Now, let’s make this quick, shall we? Ya know why I’m fuckin’ here.”

You shake your head, feigning dumb; you need to know how much information he actually has before saying anything. “Do I? Why don’t you enlighten me.”

He pauses, but then continues. Why not? He has the upper hand anyway and this isn’t anything you don’t already know. “Word came through that ya got your hands on some very important documents. Documents that if given to the wrong people could cause some problems. So why don’t we make this quick? I’ll only ask ya once, Siren: where are they?”

You shake your head with a slight shrug of your shoulders. “No clue.”

His strong grip on your wrists tightens. “Ya expect me ta believe that? Cut the shit or this is gonna get a lot worse for ya.” 

You gasp, faking that the pain is a lot worse than it is. “C’mon now, you’re hurting me,” you say, your acting convincing to anyone, but him.

“Oh come off it,” he is quick to call out your bullshit, “we both know you can handle yourself better than that. Tell me what I wanna know. How tha fuck did ya get your hands on those documents?”

You chuckle at your failure. Oh well, it was worth a shot.  “Well…you see…I had quite the substantial incentive to come up with a plan, but that wasn’t necessary. With the right assets, anything is possible, especially where men are involved.” You puff up your chest so it pushes against his. “What do you think about my assets, hmm? It’s been a while, but you can’t have forgotten them already.”

Your eyes lock to his, those dark eyes that you are no stranger to looking into. This isn’t the first time you two have had a run-in with one another and, if by some miracle you can get away, this won’t be the last. Even within the depths of his mask, with the low light of the room, you can still see a shimmer of something flash through them as you make that first contact.

“Shut up,” he demands harshly, diverting his gaze.

“Really? Is this how it’s gonna be now?” you ask coyly. “I thought we were building a connection, you know, after all the encounters we’ve had, Simon.” 

The blade is pushed harder against your neck so that you have to swallow that last word. “Don’t ya fuckin’ say my name like that out ‘ere,” he threatens pointedly. “Or are ya tha one forgettin’ now? Don’t make me fuckin’ tell ya again.”

He’s trying to be the tough soldier you know him to be to secure the information he needs to take back with him, keeping up the tough facade with an iron will so he doesn’t lose his head because he’s put himself in a dangerous position. If he doesn’t watch himself it could be all over. He recovers quickly from your first bit of connection and everything continues on according to plan until your hip bumps up against his and this time he falters just for a second.

That second is all it takes for you to catch it. A smile spreads across your mouth that Simon can’t see beneath the fabric covering it. Good, you think to yourself as your heart skips a beat. So, he hasn’t forgotten me. Maybe you’re not out of luck just yet… There’s still one thing that can help you get away, all you have to do is get him to break the rest of the distance that’s still between you.

You just need to stall a little longer; he can never last in your presence. And yet…why isn’t your heart slowing?

“It’s nothing personal, you know,” you say as if trying to get back to the task at hand, “just business. You understand. Highest bidder gets the prize.”

The ghost-masked man huffs. “Why do ya always ‘ave to get yourself into fuckin’ trouble?”

“Why do you care?” you ask, his subtle change in tone throwing you off for a moment before you regain composure and try to play it off as a condescending bit of flirting. “Come to try and clean up my mess for me? Trying to save little ‘ol me?”

“Who said ya need savin’?” he scoffs.

Now that you’ve made the point, it’s got you thinking. No one else has come to join this reunion of yours. Did he really come here all by himself? Oh curiosity has you in its grip now. If your suspicion is true, he’s done for. 

You tilt your head to the side. “Then why are you here and not one of your other pals, hmm? Matter of fact, where’s your team? Don’t you usually come with a few more friends anyway?” You drop your voice. “…or did you come alone on purpose?”

He doesn’t answer, just stares, and that in itself feels like an answer.

“Oh, that’s not smart. Remember, we can’t be left alone. Every time we do something…happens.”

“Nothin’s gonna happen,” he returns, each word being punctuated as if he is trying to convince himself rather than you.

You make a calculated risk knowing that one wrong move puts your life in danger, but still you stand up taller on the balls of your feet to lean your face closer into his. “You sure about that? Cause you don’t sound so confident.”

You lock your pretty eyes onto his once more, your one saving grace still available at this moment, and he is struggling to contain a shuddered breath under your silent gaze because this time he can’t look away. Adrenaline is high and his body is betraying him now that he has lingered near you too long. 

Fucking hell, he thought he could control himself just long enough to get through this, but the more time this takes, the less confident he feels. Why can’t he ever seem to break this spell you have over him? He thought he was stronger than this, that the time he had purposefully avoided anything to do with you and your antics, taking different assignments while he hardened his will would make him more capable at handling this, but now that he’s here with you again it’s like all that meant nothing.

Your faces are nearly together, so close you have to wonder if he can feel the heat from your breath as you speak. “How many times are we gonna keep doing this song and dance, Simon?” you ask in a whisper, eyes drawn to where his mouth is right in front of you. This time he doesn’t reprimand you for the use of his name, but you don’t even notice. “Cause you know how this is going to end, right? It’s the same every time. We’ll fight this for as long as possible, but why when we both want it?” 

The masked lieutenant doesn’t answer, he can’t. It’s obvious that no matter how much time you are apart or at what odds you both find yourselves at now, he can’t quit you and you won’t let him go. Something draws you two together, some invisible thread that keeps you tethered. It’s toxic and eruptive and maybe there’s something more lying beneath the surface, but you both can’t deny that whatever this is, it’s electrifying and you can’t help the way it makes you come alive.

“Don’t you want me…it? Don’t you want it?” you ask, biting your tongue at your blunder; why would you say it like that? “You remember how good it feels, how hard I can make you cum. It’s been a while since we’ve fucked, don’t you miss it?”

This is just to get away, you keep repeating in your head as if it’s going to drown out the other thought lingering at the back of your mind now that your body is against his. Just so I can escape, you swallow down the words like they’ll somehow slow the rapid pounding of your heart as your body burns to feel his again. It’s nothing more than survival, you add, but this isn’t like the other times.

If this is only survival, why is every fiber of your being screaming for him to break this distance? Why can’t you think of anything else?   

You hadn’t expected him, that has to be it. It took you by surprise to see him standing there before you after all this time. Your last encounter was intense and maybe a bit of that is resurfacing now. Something about it was different even from the beginning; your soldier wasn’t as rough and you almost lost yourself in the haze of it all. Afterward you both lingered for far longer than you should have, his touch still feeling like heaven against your curves even after you came back down from the high. 

In those moments after, even though he was no longer your lover, just simply the soldier that stood between you and your paycheck, you didn’t pull away so easily. You had trained yourself to suppress all that, but in that moment you were floundering. All this time apart should have fixed it, right? 

…right?

Every capillary across Simon’s heated skin is screaming for more stimulation: from the tips of his fingers desperately gripped into your wrists to the skin on his chest under his clothes tingling from the heat of your bodies being nearly pressed together. He knows he should end this now, radio for backup and let the others take over, yet the longer he stares he knows he’s caught like prey in your trap and though he’s fully aware, he can’t stop. You are like air and he is suffocating. 

He’s fought this as long as he could, but finally the dam breaks along with his composure and all that desperation comes flooding out all at once.

“God dammit. Why do ya always ‘ave ta do this ta me?”

His face moves in quick and snares your mouth through the fabric covering both of your lips and you feel like you are primed to explode from the euphoria of all the tension breaking. The passion is so intense that you can taste it through the barrier and it takes your breath away. Pressure from the blade on your throat lessens as he immediately pushes one of his thick thighs up against your own till he’s parted through them and is pressed against your pussy through your clothes and immediately you start to grind on it.

He desperately needs to get his hands on those documents in your possession, but they are completely an afterthought as he needs something else more now, something he’s needed since the last time you two found yourselves brought together by circumstance. And if he’s honest with himself, this was the real reason he took this mission in the first place. 

The knife is off your skin and slicing up the side of your thin mask, rendering it useless as it slips from your face and falls towards the ground. Simon releases your wrists from his tight grasp and draws you back into him by a strong hand around your throat. You rip his own mask up just enough to reveal his mouth so that you both can collide once again into a suffocating kiss so rough you know the metallic taste from the cut on your lip is dancing on his tongue now too. 

Fuck, his mouth feels so familiar it hurts your heart to experience it again and before you can stop yourself you are sinking further into him, getting lost in the feel, the taste, the potency. By the way he kisses you back, as if he’s trying to devour you, you know that he is doing the same. 

And fuck do you both need more.

Your hand finds its way through the layers to get inside his clothes, your delicate palm gliding over heated skin to get a feel of remembered flesh that you don’t realize till you touch it how much you’ve yearned to feel it again. Your fingertips travel over his muscles and through the hair covering them until they brush over the outline of an old scar, a mark you gave him now healed over, but as Simon shudders under your touch and moans into you, you realize that maybe it wasn’t just your knife that got under his skin that day all that time ago. 

“Take off your fuckin’ pants,” he groans his demand against your mouth. 

You nip at his bottom lip and he inhales sharply. “Take them off yourself,” you challenge.

Simon releases your throat and it’s at that moment you have your chance, you could very easily break free from him and run, but you don’t even try. You can’t. As those strong, rough hands harshly pry off your pants and his touch burns across your flesh you feel marked. Your skin is hot under the brush of his hand and instead of shoving him away you lean your hips into his greedy movements until he finally rips the clasp open and shoves the clothing down off your legs.

There isn’t time to remove anything else as your pulses race in sync, yours matching the throbbing growing between your thighs, his complimenting the stiff peak tenting the crotch of his pants that jabs into your leg. Quickly you search by touch alone to undo his belt, the clasp, & rip down the zipper just to push his clothing down enough to pull out his cock.

You need him inside you. Now.

No words need be said, not that any could with his mouth clasped tight to yours, Simon still knows what to do. Wrapping his strong hands around your waist he lifts you up and you encircle his hips with your legs, squeezing him between your thighs to keep you secure to him as he braces you against the wall. 

Your back hits the surface with a harsh thud that makes you gasp and you throw your arms around his neck to hold on as the tip of his thick cock presses up against your pussy through your panties. Shit. In the rush you both forgot the last shred of fabric keeping you apart, but it only poses a minor setback as with a grunt Simon sharply hooks his fingers into the crotch and wrenches it to the side out of his way, aligns himself, and with a swift, hard thrust is inside you. 

You cry out as your fingernails dig into his shoulders as he keeps going till he is sunk in down to the base of his shaft, that familiar stretch divine after so fucking long, but the sound gets caught in his mouth and he is forced to swallow it down. This is it, this was what had been missing from your life, the thing that left you feeling empty that you just couldn’t seem to fill no matter what you did. Not, not just the sex, it’s him. It is Simon. 

Simon struggles to keep himself steady as the walls of your pussy flutter around him; it’s been far too long since he’s had you and all that pent up desire is ready to explode at any second if he isn’t careful. Taking a moment to calm, he is able to recover and once he starts thrusting there is no holding back and with each pass the slick grows until he’s struggling to find his rhythm with how wet and tight you are. 

He pushes himself in as far as he can, as if he cannot get deep enough, like he cannot fill your cunt full enough. Each thrust harder than the last slams into you faster & faster until there is only a haze left in your mind, until you are consumed by him and every sensation assaulting your senses: his mouth on yours, his fingertips piercing your hips, the wall roughing up your back, his cock filling you. You know your desperate plan has backfired as you moan onto his lip and the slick from your cunt starts to cling to your thighs, yet you don’t care. You need to cum.

Your mouth is burning and swollen from the friction, yet you press in harder as you match his thrusts with your own the closer you get until you feel his hand slip down between your bodies to find your clit so that he can stroke it.  

“Youre gonna fuckin’ cum for me,” he growls the words onto your lips as he presses the pad of his finger up against your clit. “C’mon sweetheart, need ta feel how your body still remembers me.”

Your release is gaining on you fast now, your body readying itself to shoot that electricity through your limbs. The pressure is overwhelming, hot and ready to blow, and with his thrusts working inside that is finally enough to make you spill. Your orgasm rockets through you with such force you nearly black out, causing you to clamp down on his cock as your entire body convulses. 

The sensation from your core is enough to cause that deep ache in him to finally find its remedy and in a roar he lets go, filling you with every ounce of cum he has to give until he too is shuddering from the strength of his release. 

Seconds, minutes, timeless? You aren’t sure how long you stay like that, connected and breathing as one being. All you can do is enjoy the sensation of him still pulsing inside you as you both come back down from the high. And yet now that the haze of lust has settled another thought is creeping in: you’re already wondering when he’s going to ask that question, the same one he asks you each time this happens.

Not the one that comes out, the one that is really asked in between the spaces in the words.  

One last kiss amongst his heavy breathing and there it is, the question rests against your lips as his forehead rests against yours. “Are ya really gonna make me ask ya again?” he questions quietly with eyes still closed. “Cause we could use someone with your skillset. And I could keep…” 

The words are plain, but there’s an almost imperceptible hint of hope in his gritty voice, something that anyone else would miss, but you aren’t just anyone. He lets the sentence die out like he always does because he can’t admit even to himself that his reasons are selfish. If you were near him, you’d be safer.

Usually your answer comes quickly, a simple no and things go back to how they always are…but this time you can’t quite seem to get it out. You pause, unsure if it’s your orgasm-fried brain or something else that’s making you falter, counting the beats of his heart through the pulsing of his cock still inside you as a way to keep the time. 

Hes fucked up royally this time, more than the little bullshit misunderstandings you’ve both had over the time you’ve been together. No, this time it isn’t something a sincere apology and some sweet action can quickly fix; he had pushed you away out of fear when in truth all he really wanted to do was to bring you closer, and now he's running out of time to try and undo the damage. A long mission is looming over his head and if he doesn't act now the fragility of your relationship will crumble apart. 

That’s why he’s at the one place he knows you’ll be tonight, the one place he has a chance of getting you to talk to him because there’s something he needs to tell you…something he should have said a lot sooner.

But now that he’s here he realizes that he’s paralyzed by the uncertainty; what if it's already too late? Wouldn't it be better to stay in this limbo then know the truth? At least that type of pain he can compartmentalize, tuck neatly away so that a mild distraction will keep him from focusing on it. 

Yet...there’s still a flicker of hope that has him in a chokehold: what if there is a chance? 

Simon plucks the butt of his spent cig from his lips and flicks it to the ground, the third one he's finished sitting here working up the courage to go inside and find you. Maybe one more and he’ll finally be ready. Pulling the pack out of his jacket pocket he opens it and wrenches out another, but before he can even bring the stick to his lips he hears the click of the back door opening and immediately pulls down the lip of his mask back over his chin out of habit. His heart stops and forcefully restarts as the figure is revealed, illuminated under the spotlight attached to the outside of the building. 

You step out into the night with a yelled goodbye to your coworkers over your shoulder before the door closes behind you and latches shut. The air is cool and there's a rush of a breeze that blows through to tangle the loose strands from your ponytail, the first signs of a storm rolling in. 

Good thing you're off early tonight. 

Crossing the lot to your car you suddenly get that uneasy feeling from eyes being on you that causes you to survey your surroundings and sure enough you find the source dismounting his bike and heading straight for you. It’s Simon. Your heart is in your throat as you quickly dig for your keys in your purse; you don't know if you have the strength to deal with whatever this is tonight and need to get out of here. 

That hulking figure dressed in black from head to toe hasn't said a word to you yet, but you still call back to him in a warning. "Not now, Simon," you say through gritted teeth, keeping your head down to stare at your feet until you reach your car. The keys are in your hand ready to unlock the door as soon as you reach it so you can escape.

Simon finally finds his voice; it’s now or never.

"Just hang on a fuckin second and listen, will ya?" he tries to reason, but you aren't having it. Fuck, you’re picking up the pace and now he's desperate to stop you. He's certain that if you get in your car then he’ll never get his chance. 

"No," you say, shaking your head, still not facing him. "Why should I listen to you when you've been avoiding me for weeks now, leaving me on fucking read all the time, being flaky when I can get you to answer. You don't get to just pop back up and think I'm going to forget all that. You can be a bit thick at times, but this is too much."

He knows he deserves this, but hearing the pain in your voice stings in his chest. "I can explain, luv..."

"Save it," you interject as you make it to your car, stabbing in the key to get the door unlocked and opened.

That masked military man is desperate and before you can even react your grip on the handle slips as he slams the door closed right in your face and keeps his hand pressed to it. It takes you a second to recover, but you turn around on your heels to face him, anger and frustration welling up fast. "Move your hand so I can go. I’m tired."

Simon stands his ground, hand firmly in place with no sign of moving it. "No, I need ya ta listen ta me. Just for a minute."

You shove your way past him. "Fine, I'll walk."

Fast steps fueled by anger have you booking it across the parking lot just as another huge gust of wind pushes against your body while a distant roll of thunder sounds. Great, you’re gonna get drenched before you make it back to your place now, but you can’t turn around, you can’t let him break your heart even more by talking. You just need to keep walking.

“Come back,” he yells after you as he too takes off in your footsteps, but you aren’t listening.

You shake your head and he watches the back of it move. “No, no I won’t.”

Clouds overhead swirl in dark, threatening patterns with just barely enough moonlight to illuminate them as a low rumble sounds closer. The storm is approaching faster, but it’s nothing compared to the storm brewing inside you as you fear the worst, that everything is on the verge of tumbling down and there is no way for you to stop it. 

A few quickly jogged steps and he’s caught up to you; damn his long legs. His large hands wrap around your shoulders to force you to come to a stop so he can turn you around to face him again. “Why can’t ya jus’ listen a moment…” 

It’s hard to keep your gaze diverted, but you don’t want to meet his eyes, not until you can put a little more distance between your bodies so that he can’t see the emotion welling in the depths. If this is going to happen, he’s not going to see you breakdown. 

“Cause I think your actions have spoken enough,” you say as you squirm in his grasp until he is compelled to release your shoulders and you can move back from him. 

Simon’s brow furrows as you put space between you, space that he desperately doesn’t want, but at least he has you here and for the moment that is all he can ask. “Look, let me jus’ explain somethin’,” he starts, but before he can utter another word the sky opens up and suddenly releases a deluge down onto both of you so that the heavy droplets are already soaking through your clothes and Simon’s mask in seconds. He cannot stand the feeling of it clinging suffocatingly tight to his face and in an angered huff he rips it off his head and shoves it into the back pocket on his jeans.

“Fuck Simon, can we just call this what it is?” you blurt out over the sound of heavy drops splashing down around you, “I don’t want to stand here in the fucking rain and drag this out, okay? We both know why you’re here.”

A web of lightning rolls out across the heavens as Simon struggles to comprehend your words. “What the fuck are ya on bout?” he shouts.

You forcefully swipe back a few stray strands of hair that are sticking to your face. “You’ve been pulling away from me for weeks now. Do you know how fucking hard that is to just watch? I’ve tried to pretend that it was all in my head for long enough, but I don’t want to turn a blind eye to it anymore.”

The emotion grips his heart and he struggles to breathe. “Jus’ stop, god dammit. Tha’s not it…”

You stare at him through the droplets running off your eyelashes, mixing with the tears falling from your eyes so that you can’t tell which is which. It’s enough; you can’t change the feeling that you’ve already lost him, so you can only self preserve. “No, I’m not going to leave this. You already did that, so I’m done.”

“Done, you’re jus’ fuckin’ done? Jus’ like that?” he bellows the question over the rain. 

“What do you want me to say? That I’m fine with being shut out from whatever it is that’s in your head? Just admit that you want this thing we have to be over and we can both go our separate ways.”

He runs his fingers over his scalp through wet blonde locks, an irate smile on his lips. “Is that what ya think this is? God dammit, luv, is that what ya really fuckin’ think I want? After all this time? That I would just up an’ fuckin’ leave ya?”

“Then tell me, tell me why the fuck you’ve been so distant lately. Tell me right fucking now Simon or I’m walking away and we are finished for good.” You’re yelling so loud now you’re sure someone inside the loud, music-filled bar will be able to hear you two bickering, but you’re about to lose something precious to you and you don’t care.

And he matches your volume as he hates himself for letting it get this far, for pushing you to the brink of breaking up just because he is too afraid to admit the truth to the one person he trusts even more than himself. It might be too late, but if he doesn’t at least say it now he will hate himself for the rest of his life. You have to know.

“Because I fuckin’ love ya, tha’s why.”

The words slam into you full force, knocking the wind from your lungs as if you’ve been hit and you struggle to catch any bit of air again. You stand there, staring back silently into his face as you take in what he just said as your brain cannot seem to compute that this is what was causing him to be so detached lately. He loves you?

Simon takes a step in towards you, trying to bridge the gap that was caused by his actions as of late. “Didn’t know how ta say it cause I’m fuckin’ terrified ‘a this, that by sayin’ somethin’ as big as this it will ruin it all. I don’t ‘ave the best luck in this department. Do ya know what it’s like to fear somethin’ tha’s supposed ta make ya happy? I don’t wanna fuckin’ lose ya.”

You swallow down the lump in your throat to speak aloud the question that is burning on your tongue. Your voice wavers, but you get out the words. “Are you really telling me the truth?”

Another few steps, more space reduced so that he is nearly against you and now even through the raindrops dripping off his long eyelashes the parking lot spotlight still glints through the emotion burning in those dark eyes. Soundlessly he reaches for your hand and turning it palm side down he places it against the middle of his chest on his shirt. 

“Do ya feel how fast that’s fuckin’ goin’, sweetheart?” he asks as he presses down on the back of your hand. 

You can feel his pulse pounding hard against his ribcage even through his soaked t-shirt, its thunderous beat hitting back against the skin in rapid tempo. He takes a deep breath, trying to fill his lungs as best as he can, and it shudders through his torso. 

“Ya think that’s lyin’?” he asks and you shake your head as you stare back up into his eyes. “Christ, I shoulda said it so much sooner cause it’s fuckin’ killin’ me ta know I made ya think tha worst. So I’ll say it again: I love ya, sweetheart.”

You instantly forget that the rain is filling your shoes, that your hair is stuck to your head, that your cold, drenched clothes are clinging irritatingly to your body; all that’s left is you and him lost in this moment and suddenly all that distress that had been filling your heart dissipates into thin air.

The rise and fall of Simon’s chest counts the seconds as you both just stand in quiet of each other while the storm fills the space with static. He needs you to say something, anything; to break the silence that is now eating away at him after opening himself up raw like this. Maybe it’s still too late, maybe the damage is too severe, and he curses himself for squandering his one chance at something he so desperately wants.  

Yet you’re still here even though you could have already told him off and walked away. He has to hold on to that because the alternative he is sure will kill him. “Say that ya love me too,” he begs, an act that is just as rare as his confession. “Fuck, please…I know I’m a god damn idiot for waitin’ so fuckin’ long, but I can’t lose ya. I can’t. You’re the only fuckin’ thing ‘round here that I can’t live without.”

You get caught up in the intensity of his gaze like a snare and suddenly you can't think as you take in the emotion in his eyes and all you know like a feeling in your bones is that you need him. Only him. He really loves you. That desperation in his voice is palpable and though you want to say something, your body moves before your brain can catch up to its action and you quickly close the rest of the short distance between your wet bodies to lean up into him and with your hand wrapping around the back of his head you pull his face in to connect your mouths in a moistened, heated kiss. 

The raindrops run down between your bodies as your lips dance in feverish bursts. He wraps his arms around you, securing your slick bodies together in an embrace that feels like he’s afraid you’ll still leave, but not even the storm can pull you from him now because you don’t have to think about it… you love him too.

Breaking the connection for only a second, you inhale to have just enough breath to say what you need to. “I love you,” you whisper.   

The way he captures your mouth as the last syllable leaves your lips makes you dizzy from the intensity, each new embrace is another apology written on the flesh. He is trying to swallow down those words faster than you can draw in air to keep yourself from passing out. Your body is completely enveloped by the bulk of his, those bulging muscles along his abdomen pressing into you as his arms keep you locked tightly in his consuming embrace. His need overwhelms every sense and it’s like an electrical current is shared through your tangled, soaked limbs. 

But the closeness isn’t enough; Simon is still in agony and he needs more. Large, coarse hands cup around your face, rough thumbs stroking over the damp skin along your jaw as his tongue juts out from between his teeth and over his lips to prod against yours until you open your mouth and allow him to thrust it in. That thick muscle fills the cavity full as he explores, tasting you, devouring your kiss as if it is the only thing keeping him alive.

All you can do is cling to him as you lose yourself in the passion of each embrace, each one burying the sentiment of his confession further into your soul. You had missed his touch more than you thought and now that you have it back, you don’t want it to end. “Please…” you breathe through a break in the connection of his mouth.

Finally he pulls your face from his, but still keeps his lips close so that the heat from his breath makes yours tingle. “What do ya want, sweetheart?” he groans, his speech slurred as if he’s drunk off your kisses alone.

Words are a struggle, so you choose the most effective one that will make him understand that he can’t stop now. “You.” 

Placing another kiss to your swollen lips, he releases your face and grabs your hand securely in his. “C’mon.”

He guides you by the hand back the short distance to your car, gets the door open, and helps you into the back seat before climbing inside himself. You move to the opposite side of the car to give him room, but all that space is soon filled as he is close behind, moving in and pinning you against the door, his entire body weight pressing into you so that wet clothes and skin rub together as the rain outside beats against the car in tiny percussive hits. 

“God, I fuckin’ missed ya, luv,” he grunts as his hands move up under your shirt to get at the warm skin of your abdomen. 

Simon’s hands start to pry off wet clothing from both of you as fast as he can remove them, his mouth immediately finding the newly revealed bare bits of skin to adore with heated kisses that make your flesh prickle with goosebumps from the temperature. Each embrace of his mouth makes you more sensitive until he has you with eyes closed moaning into his ear.  

There is an electrical pulse that bursts over his flesh as your bodies connect skin to skin, still damp and cold from the rain, and he groans deeply into your mouth as he pulls you under him.

“Need ya so bad, luv,” he breathes over your shoulder before his lips kiss the heat deeper into your skin as he works on undoing your pants. “Need ta make up for all that fuckin’ time I wasted.”

His hand descends into the opening he's created and parts through the plushness of your thighs until he’s between them and inside your panties. 

“Fuck, ya feel so good,” he says in a desperate strain of his gruff voice as he cups his large, rough palm over the soft lips of your pussy to make you moan into the silence of the car. 

Those fingers of his know exactly what to do, parting through your lips as easily as butter to find your clit and then drawing tight circles over the bud with an expertise that can only come from someone who knows your body as intimately as he does. It’s muscle memory at this point and that allows him to enjoy the view as you fall apart to his touch.

Silently he gazes into your face with a newfound tenderness in those dark eyes, adoringly watching you as those emotions he’s tried to suppress out of fear come bubbling to the surface with each wave of pleasure that ripples across your features and he doesn’t hold them back. His heart burns with the intensity of his feelings almost as if it’s about to burst at the seams, but he wants to feel it all, every last bit of it. 

"I was a fucking fool to risk losin’ ya," he whispers amidst your whimpers as his fingers draw you ever closer to that pressurized release.

Your hand reaches out to run along the seam of his zipper until you find his bulge to rub it over and over. “I forgive you, Simon, I forgive you. Just…be here with me now,” you reassure and all that self-loathing he had built up dissipates with your words and the stroking of your hand. “I’ve…missed you Simon.”

“Missed ya too, sweetheart. So fuckin’ much.” 

Letting go of all that doubt and worry and fear, his body responds to your touch in need of more friction and he grinds his hips into you until his cock is straining the fabric of his jeans and he knows you can count his pulse from how hard it’s throbbing in your hand. His fingers are now coated in your honey as he keeps them buried in you and he plans to keep going until you cum on them.

That is until you start to plead. “Can’t wait, baby,” you murmur into his face. “Don’t want to wait. Need you now.” 

This is about you now and there is no way he is going to deny you tonight. “Anythin’ for you,” he returns and before you can speak again he’s already moving back off of you to take the waist of your jeans in his hands to rip them down as you lift your hips to help him. He takes everything, including your soaked panties, down and off so they are out of his way. Just as rapidly he undoes his own jeans and shoves them down over the curve of his ass towards his knees until his cock springs free of its cage.  

You open your legs wider as he adjusts himself back between them. The tip of his member is leaking a little precum, but it isn’t enough; he needs to be sure he’s good and lubricated before ever entering you and he has just the solution that he created himself. Simon holds onto the base and pushes himself through the lips of your pussy, thrusting through them in and out to coat himself in your slick until you can’t take another second of his unintentional torture. 

“Please baby,” you beg as his shaft stimulates your clit. “I need you inside me now. Please…please…”

Simon smirks. “Goddamn, ya sound so pretty,” he breathes the words against your raw lips as he steals them again, trying to drink your whimpers down like nectar as he aligns the head of his cock with your entrance. 

Those strong hands hold your hips steady as he clenches his abdominals and drives himself carefully up into you until your body gives way to his girth. The stretch causes your walls to expand quickly as you take him in all the way down to the base and you cry out at the delicious feeling of suddenly being so completely full of him as your head falls back against the now fogged up glass of the window. 

It doesn't last as a familiar touch at the back of your head guides it up. “Stay with me, sweet girl,” he says with a shudder as he struggles to calm himself now that he's wrapped in your warmth.

You give him a quick nod and wrap your arms around his neck to hold on and he rests his forehead against your own so that with each slow, deep thrust he can punctuate it with a gentle kiss. Your damp bodies slip against each other more now as the perspiration created from your copulation coats over all that exposed skin until you both sparkle in the soft overhead lights of the parking lot.

“Say it again,” you moan into the tight space between your lips. “I want to hear it again.”

Even in the haze of his ecstasy, Simon knows what you want and doesn’t hesitate anymore. “I love you,” he says, his hot breath pushing the words into your mouth. 

Is it the words and their sentiment or his cock that is overwhelming you so that your mind is left scrambling in a haze of pleasure? You aren’t sure; all you know is that you’ve never felt this sensitive before, like every nerve ending is being stimulated at the same time and it’s hard to hold onto your sanity. There is nothing left in your world, nothing but you and him and the euphoria you share between your writhing bodies. 

Simon is feeling it too as his hips roll into you with a sense of urgency; he’s getting close, but he has to be sure you come first. Reaching between your bodies into the gap created from this position, he guides his hand down the warm, glistening skin of your pelvis to slip his fingers back between your damp petals and up against your swollen clit. You mewl pitifully into his face with your mouth hung open as the pleasure radiates out from that tiny bead that his fingers rub over and you can’t help but try and push against his hand that is keeping your head locked to his as you desperately try to arch your back.   

“Fuck, I’m gonna… mmmm… I’m gonna…” You can’t get the words out as each time you try another wave of ecstasy rolls through you, stealing your breath along with what’s left of your sanity. 

Panting into your face, his hips keep the rhythm steady for each thrust so that nothing stalls your oncoming release. “Cum for me, sweetheart,” he groans against your bottom lip as his fingers slip through all that natural lubrication that begins to dribble down over the back of his hand towards his knuckles the longer he strokes. “I need ya ta fuckin’ come for me.”

Close so close, it’s right there and it only takes another minute to reach. With a cry, all that pressure finally explodes and you cum with a fury that has your thighs locking around him as the walls of your cunt clamp down and he can’t hang on a moment more.

Those raw lips of his catch yours as he lets go, moaning desperately into your mouth as his cum bursts up into you, your legs still locked so that he can’t pull out until he has given you all that he has. His thrusts rapidly slow with a few stray grunts until he comes to a stop and hangs over you completely spent and only able to pant as the faint sounds of the rain hitting the metal roof begin to slow. 

His limbs are trembling as he pulls back from you to collapse against the opposite door, pulling you over top of him to rest once he’s situated, and he’s able to play that quivering off as if it is the comedown from his release, but that isn’t the reason for his reaction. Never in his life has he shared such an intimate moment with someone. Sex is one thing, but this…this is so much more and his heart aches as it is allowed to truly feel for the first time.

You notice that tumultuous look in his eyes, feel that tremor that accentuated with shaky breath, and understand the weight of the connection you both have shared tonight. Reaching up, you stroke your fingertips over his temple and along his cheek, gazing up into his face through heavy breaths with a gentle smile on your lips and contented exhaustion in your eyes until he looks down at you securely in his embrace. 

“I love you.”

He smiles. “I love ya too.”

Minutes pass as you both drift back down from that high with your body wrapped in his arms and your head resting against his chest. Each strong heartbeat pounds against your ear and you count them one by one as they start to slow and you feel his touch against your face. 

“Ya know, never gave a damn ‘bout bein’ religious,” Simon says quietly as his fingertips stroke over the soft, delicate skin of your cheek, “but fuck, sometimes I think somethin’ divine must a made ya just for me. And I fuckin’ hate myself for nearly throwin’ it all away.”

Even from the back he already knows it’s you that will be sharing a space for God knows how long and suddenly he is unsure of how he is going to make it through the proximity. Why the fuck of all people did it have to be you that he was paired to board with? The one person that would make the stay that much harder?

“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ jokin’,” he says aloud and as soon as those distinct bassy notes make it out of his mouth you immediately turn.

The color drains from your face. “No,” you say as you shake your head. “This has got to be a setup. What the hell are you doing here?”

The lieutenant adjusts his pack full of his clothes and personal items hanging off his shoulder. “What the fuck do ya think I’m doin’?” he asks, his tone harsh. “This is tha room I’ve been assigned.”

The universe has to be playing a cruel joke on him that it would force him into being near the one person he can’t stand above anyone else in this shithole. It has been hard enough having to work together, but now he would have no escape from you and he could already feel himself growing weary at the prospect. 

You shake your head. “That can’t be right. There’s no way they even thought to put us together.”

“Ya think I jus’ decided ta bunk with ya of my own free will?” he shoots back as he moves to his side and sets his gear down. “I’d rather be anywhere else, princess.”

Where this dislike came from neither of you even really knew. There was never any pinpointed incident, no explosive confrontations, no pushbacks to his authority from you or questions about your abilities from him; it seemed to be as simple as two personalities that just repelled each other.

At least that’s what Lt. Riley tells anyone that happens to ask about why you two can’t seem to really get along, but if someone were to really pay attention maybe it isn’t that at all. Maybe there is, in fact, another reason for his attitude, a secret reason that means his eyes will sometimes linger a little too long on the person he says he dislikes, but if…and that is a big fucking if…there is something, he would rather take it to an early grave than even give a hint of anything.

And you, well… Your eye rolls whenever he crosses your path are getting a bit too theatrical to be believed fully anymore, almost as if you are trying to not only convince others of your strong distaste for the officer, but that you are trying to convince yourself as well. You keep your lips sealed tight though and so face value is all anyone can take, even if they just so happen to catch a glimpse of the way your pupils seem to dilate when he is near.  

“Don’t think you’re going to be here long,” you say, your tone snide. “This will be sorted soon enough cause this” you point between him and yourself repeatedly “will not work.”

The lieutenant has already resigned himself to living in hell as he hunkers down in his bed. “Whateva’ ya fuckin’ say, princess, but ya know what Cap’n Price said about not bringin’ this bullshit ta him as he’s too fuckin’ busy dealin’ with everythin’.”

Fuck. You’d forgotten that little memo… mostly likely put in place to avoid having to deal with situations just like this. If it wasn’t for that you would have marched right down to the captain’s office at first light to demand a change, but you’re already on thin ice as it is right now and can’t afford to cause trouble. All you can do is suck it up and bear it. 

It’s just a few weeks, right? Just a couple of measly weeks and you can both go back to avoiding each other like the plague and all will return to the status quo. Right?

Well a couple of weeks feels a lot longer when it’s spent in company with someone you are actively trying to keep up appearances around. By the end of the second week, even being the highly trained military officer that Lt. Riley is, even he is starting to crack under the constant closeness. 

He used to have an outlet, time that he could spend away from you to deescalate the desperate need growing in his belly, but now… now he has to see you after hours moving about the room in your pajamas that leave very little to the imagination and fuck is it killing him to not have some form of relief. 

He needs something to take the edge off or he is going to start getting sloppy around you and there are still three more weeks that just got added on to this torture. He’s held on for as long as he can, done all the mental gymnastics to keep certain thoughts at bay, but being forced to have his nose filled with the scent of your soap after your shower and have to watch you lay about casually on your bed as you read before going to sleep, legs propped in just a way that he can almost look into your shorts, he can’t do it anymore.

Tonight he has to fix his problem or you’re going to be able to see it protruding from the crotch of his pants. 

Lt. Riley waits long after he’s heard the change in your breathing to be sure you’re sound asleep before he puts his plan into action. The sharp edge of his teeth grip into the rolled up bottom of his crew neck shirt, holding it up off his stomach as his large hand is wrapped tightly around the shaft of his cock sticking out the top of his grey sweats. He had stuffed the fabric into the cavity to keep himself quiet, not wanting the sound of his desperation to wake you until he can finish; he has to get through this somehow and keeping his balls empty is the only way he knows will work. 

Vigorously he strokes up and down his length, using the bit of precum dribbling out of the tip as lubrication to smooth his movements. Those coffee-colored eyes stare up into the dark ceiling as his fantasies play through his mind like a film: you being a vision of beauty naked, his large body wedged between your legs, your bare thighs crushing against his hips as he slams into you hard and rough enough to make your breasts bounce with each thrust. 

Fuck, he cannot draw his thoughts away tonight. 

He desperately aches as he always does to feel you, get lost in your curves, let his touch map the contours of your body as he pulls your pleasure from you himself. His hand around his cock strokes harder as he imagines the way your body would feel wrapped around him instead of his rough palm. Would you cry out as he stretched you out for the first time? How hard would your hips buck and writhe against his?

God dammit, why do you have to be just out of reach? Close, right on the other side of the room, but not close enough… not in his bed, not under his body, not filled with his cock. Instead, here he sits propped up against the wall in his bed just as he has so many times before in his old room, using his palm to fuck himself, wishing he could be worthy of a minute of your softness instead.

He nearly bites a hole through the bottom of his shirt imagining the way the sound of your whimpering voice would run like a drug through his veins, leaving him in an intoxicating haze of desire as you moaned his name into the silence.

And that’s when it happens. This one isn’t only imaginary though, like your voice in his head. Muffled, your name falls from his lips in a groan and he doesn’t realize what he has done.

The hardened military lieutenant is unraveling at the seams, forcefully stopping himself from grunting like an animal as his abdominals tense the more that pressure builds inside. He’s almost there, so close that just a bit more and he is going to spill over the edge and finally be able to sleep so that another day can pass, but before he can reach that sweet peak of pleasure his eyes flutter open…

And there you are silently standing near the edge of his bed.

He should have been paying more attention to his surroundings during such an intimate act, but the ecstasy was too strong and he missed that squeak of springs and the soft pitter of feet across the floor. The bunched up shirt slips out of his lips as he tries to shove his cock back inside his pants, praying that the dark has masked enough of his body that you can’t see him clearly.

“What tha hell are ya doin?” he asks as embarrassment floods his nervous system.

Reaching over to his bedside table and brushing your hand over the fabric of his mask, there is a click as you turn on the small lamp to give the room just a tiny bit of light. You try not to get distracted by having those sharp features that you so rarely get to gaze upon meet your sight and you swallow to regain composure to continue.

“Could ask the same thing of you,” you return as you nod your head, using it to point to where his hands are doing a poor job of hiding the massive hard-on he still has.

Now it’s his turn to be silent. What the fuck is he supposed to say? It’s obvious that you’ve seen everything so no lie is going to convince you otherwise.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” you ask, but still he says nothing. “You know, you’re not as quiet as you think you are.”

The thought is left to hang in the air a moment, the only sound filling the room is of his heavy breathing as you weigh your options on how to handle this. You know you could simply chide him for needing to have a wank while bunked with a roommate and leave it at that, but that’s not what you want. No; you know what you just heard and that you have to know if what he was just doing was out of need for you… a need that you secretly share.

If this is your chance to make something happen between you both, you cannot let that go.

The lieutenant’s breathing gets even harder as he watches you move forward without another word and slowly climb onto the bed with him. You move your body up over top of him, his back still propped against the wall behind him, crawling up over his legs until you are straddling over his lap. 

Your face is right before his and there is a glisten that shimmers through the irises of your eyes  as you stare back at him that catches the spare bit of light illuminating the room and it makes him unable to pull his sight away. You’ve been quiet this entire time, but he still expects you to say something, anything, break the silence because he isn’t going to do it. The lieutenant doesn’t say a word as he keeps his eyes plastered to your face. His gaze drifts down to your lips where they linger only a moment before finally he watches you open them to speak. 

“But, you know, it wasn’t the sound of you fucking stroking yourself that woke me up,” you say and his eyes drift back up to meet yours. “Been in the military long enough to know that when you gotta relieve pressure, no matter the situation, you just gotta fucking do it. No, that wasn’t it.”

You pause and he waits on baited breath for you to finish the thought. He needs you to finish the thought so he can do something about how you are over his lap, nearly rubbing up against the tip of his hard cock.

Reaching for the bundled up edge of his shirt still resting at the top of his stomach, you give it a tug to draw his attention to it, brushing your knuckles over the hair covering his abdomen and he fidgets trying to keep quiet as ecstasy-filled synapses spark over his skin from your touch. 

It isn’t hard to miss that the contact has a certain effect, but you don’t say anything and instead continue your thought. “Your muzzle really isn’t that effective at buffering the sound…when you absentmindedly said my name in a moan. Care to explain why I was in your head?”

The lieutenant bristles and your smirk is as sly as a foxes. “Have I been in there long, sir?”  

That strong jaw shifts back and forth as he breathes in deep through his nostrils to try and calm his pounding heart from beating out of his chest. You’ve barely touched him and it is already rendering him nearly incoherent, but he has to pull it together cause he won’t give you the satisfaction of making him fall apart, especially and until he figures out what the hell is going on.

“Why don’ ya just go on back ta fuckin’ sleep ‘stead a askin’ questions?” he pushes back. “I’s late.”

You shake your head. “Suddenly I’m not so tired anymore. Come on, I promise I won’t tell,” you lower your voice “How many times have you stroked it to the thought of me?”

“Bed,” he barks, but you aren’t having it.

“I’m already in one and I’m not moving until you tell me.” 

Fine, he’s already caught anyway. What’s the harm in the truth? You already have enough ammo to use this against him, what’s a little more? 

“Alright, ya really wanna know? Do ya ‘ave any fuckin’ idea what it’s like to want someone and feel like you’re unable ta do anything ‘bout it?” he growls. His intense gaze never waivers and yours doesn’t either. “I mean, we ain’t exactly chummy with each other, what the fuck was I ‘spose ta do other than rub one out ta get it outta my system? Do ya know how bad I’ve been fuckin’ achin’ to ‘ave my way with ya?”

You tilt your head. “Is that why you’re always in such a piss poor mood when I’m around? Cause you want to bury that cock of yours in me so fucking bad? Is that right, Simon?”  

He smirks in return, running the tip of his tongue slyly over his top lip to buy him enough time to calm his racing heart down from hearing you say his name before his hand juts up from his side to find its way onto the back of your head tangling in your hair. 

He gives the strands a rough tug that makes you grin instead of wince. “Who said ya could fuckin’ call me that?” he waits for your answer a moment, knowing you won’t give one before continuing “And what’s your fuckin’ excuse for the way ya act, hmm? Maybe ya want me ta bury my cock in ya, princess.”

You move your face in nearer despite his grip, your lips ghosting so close to his that he can feel the heat of your breath on them. “Are we going to keep sitting here exchanging insults…” the sentence gets interrupted by a hiss from him as you rock your hips so that your pajama clothed pussy brushes over top of his bulge, “...or are we going to do something about this? Cause maybe we just found a way we can stand each other and you’re letting it slip by.”

A chuckle emanates from deep in his chest. “Fuck you,” he grunts.

The tip of your nose bumps against the tip of his as again you move your hip and you can feel the sharp inhale he takes as it steals some of the air from your mouth. “That’s exactly what I’m trying to get you to do, Simon. So, you better make up your fucking mind fast. Am I going back to sleep or…?”

That dam of need he’s kept walled up inside himself for this long had never been tested like this before and as you roll your hips one last time it finally bursts open with such force that there is no stopping the flood. Simon is no longer in control of his actions, though he still has a bit of sense left that he lets out in a terse comment before he lets himself completely go.

“I can’t fuckin’ stand how much I need ya, but you ain’t goin’ anywhere, princess,” he says in a groan and before the last syllable is even uttered his hand at the back of your head pushes your head in towards him so rapidly that you can feel the last word die on your mouth before he mauls you in a kiss that overwhelms your entire face.

A kiss that you cannot get enough of and you meet his intensity and desperation with the same magnitude of your own.

All he needs from this point on is you, all he wants in this moment is you. Nothing else in the world matters or exists except the two of you tangling your limbs and lips together in a union he has obsessively fantasized over for so fucking long it makes him ravenous for each kiss, each, touch, trying to satisfy that burning desire he had suppressed. And by the way you meet his kisses with a ferocity, he knows that you will take it all, anything that he has to give. 

Suddenly, in a display of his sheer strength, he grabs you tightly in his arms and flips you both over so that your back is now pressed into the mattress and his body weight is crushing you into it, causing the kisses overwhelming your mouth to not be the only thing making it harder to breathe. His heart is racing, his blood feeling like fire in his veins as he briefly breaks his mouth away to look down at you beneath him, swallowed under the bulk of his body; the angle he’s dreamed of seeing you in. His lips lock back to your own, devouring every heated kiss that you give to him like a man starved.

You moan into his mouth as he thrusts his hand down the top of your short pajama bottoms and into your panties while he pins his lips tighter against yours to swallow the sound of your pleasure down like water and keep it from escaping into the room. He has needed this for so long that now that he has it, he can’t get enough and he won’t waste a single note of it.

The lieutenant is flying blind, but his desire won’t let him falter in his movements. He struggles to keep as much attention he can scrounge up to observe you, read your body, let your sounds guide him so that he can adjust his actions. He isn’t worried about the rush, he is going to be thorough in finding all the ways that can make you fall apart for him and have you completely addicted to him by the end.

Simon’s thick fingers spread apart the silky, warm lips of your pussy and he slides the middle one right up your slit to your clit where he presses the rough pad against it harshly and begins to draw tight circles over it. He is not hesitant at all, touching you like he owns that thing between your legs and you are rendered dumb within just a couple of minutes of him stroking his finger over that small bud.

You’d seen his hands before, meticulously cataloged each thick finger both in and out of his skeleton-patterned gloves and mused about what they would feel like against you, on you, in you. So you know exactly how big they are, but having them between your thighs is an entirely different thing. They are strong, precise, everything a trained professional should be and you know you don’t stand a chance against how he decides to use them. 

The more he plays, the more that other hand of his he wants to put to good use and so he slips it up under the hem of your shirt to roughly push it up revealing your soft torso until it reaches the point that he will have to pull from your mouth to rip it off over your head. 

Simon tears the fabric off your body, flings it away, and lets his dark eyes linger on your naked curves to take you in as if seeing you for the first time all over again. He’s seen you almost every day that you’ve been a part of this team, but he has never been able to see you like this: naked, breasts on full display with their hardening nipples, the muscles along your torso clenching as his hand in your bottoms is quickly making a mess. 

But all this newly revealed bare skin calls to him and he pulls his fingers out of your cunt to cross his arms over his abdomen while grabbing the bottom of the shirt he still has covering his chest so that he can quickly pull it up and off in one fluid motion. He tosses the piece of clothing to the ground atop yours and immediately dives in to press tight to you while letting his touch glide over the contours of your exposed skin until his fingertips tremble with ecstasy. 

There is an electrical pulse that bursts over his flesh as your bodies connect skin to skin for the very first time, an attraction that is magnetic in its design, and he groans deeply as he nips at your bottom lip lightly. “God dammit, why tha fuck do ya feel so fuckin’ good?” he huffs in a desperate strain of his gruff voice as his fingers slip up into the short pant leg of your pajamas so that they can go right back to servicing your now damp pussy.

A shuddered breath escapes his lips, the corners upturning into a sinister grin as an idea strikes him and suddenly he is bringing his head in towards your chest, moving to one side and opening his mouth so that he can graze the tip of your nipple with the edge of his teeth before he circles it with the tip of his tongue. 

God damn, where the fuck did he learn something like that?

You let out a whimper as the feeling he elicits from your breast when he does it again can be felt in your clit, making the stroke of his finger even more potent. “F-fuuck…” you say in a shaky breath and you swear you can feel that bastard smile into your tit as he hums with satisfaction that his maneuver worked just like he had hoped as he switches sides to do the same to the other. 

Satisfied with how your nipples are nice and hard, his lips press into your breast so he can suck them into his mouth and now he has you right where he wants you- whimpering and bucking your hips into his hand to grind harder on his fingers. He knows right now he can do anything he likes and your body will force you to comply just to get him to keep going…and he is still feeling raw from being the only one to have to confess the extent of his need earlier.  

That hot mouth unsuctions from your breast with a pop.“Admit it,” he demands abruptly as he pulls his mouth away from your skin. “Admit ya have been achin’ for me just as bad as I’ve been achin’ for you.”

Caught up in the pleasure, you close your eyes and ignore his order to talk, wanting to only focus on the sensations causing your mind to get more hazy by the second. “Don’t stop,” you moan instead. “We’ll talk later.”

Without a word he drags his finger down through the gathering wetness in your slit away from your clit and lifts it out to settle it on the crease between the lips of your cunt and your leg, forcing you to open your eyes to him as you whine in protest. “Ya heard me tha first time,” he says.

You desperately try to wriggle your hips to maybe somehow get him to slip back in, but his free hand keeps your body restrained in place. He’s strong, strong enough that you aren’t going to get anywhere trying to push back against him. The only way you’re gonna get him to keep going is to speak…and you better do it fast because you cannot take this torture.

“Okay, okay,” you give in with a frustrated sigh; you made him admit, it’s only fair you do the same. “There is just something about you, I can’t explain it. This…desire… came out of nowhere and it’s been torturing me for a long time now. And then all this happened and I thought I wasn’t going to make it; I need you so bad sometimes it feels like I’m going to fucking combust. Then I heard you say my name tonight and the only thing I could think as I walked over is that I hope he will want to act on whatever he’s fantasizing about. Is that good enough?”  

Simon’s hand moves back to inside your lips, but it isn’t back up towards your clit. His finger gathers a friend and he moves them both down to your entrance where he aligns them quickly before slamming them up into you until the lips of your pussy hit his palm.

“That’ll do,” he praises in a low growl that gets quickly drowned out by your moan from the stretch of your walls to accommodate his large digits.

God you’re so fucking tight around his fingers it’s enough to drive him insane and his cock throbs as his excitement grows to thrust it inside, but not yet; it’ll do for now just to hump the back of his hand against your pussy until he’s finished prepping your body for what’s to come. 

Over and over he heatedly ruts against you and the bulge in the crotch of his pants hardens again into a stiff peak that tents his clothes. There are only a few measly pieces of fabric that separate your bodies and that only makes him grind harder and harder, scrambling for a tiny bit more friction. You match his energy by wrapping your thighs around his hips so you can roll your body into him and ride his fingers curling up inside until you feel the drip of your honey down his hand to gather into the crotch of your panties.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groans.

You nod. “I’m ready,” you say desperately. “Fuck me; I need you inside me.”

Your plea goes unanswered for a moment as his fingers continue until you hear him chuckle; it’s anything but cheerful.“No.” The statement is short, but powerful.

“What?” you gasp, your breathing heavy.

That familiar tension is starting to build inside that causes your limbs to tingle and you know that if he keeps the rhythm steady that it won’t be long and he will make you cum. A part of you wants him to stop and fuck you, but the other part, the part that is surprised at his skill with his hands, wants him to keep going. You don’t have to struggle with the weight of deciding too long as your decision is made for you.  

“You’re not getting a god damn thing more till ya cum for me right now, princess,” he demands, “all over my fuckin’ fingers. Wanna feel it. Ya don’t know what you’re gettin’ yourself into; you’re gonna ‘ave ta be nice and wet ‘fore ya take me.”

That pressure is welling up inside you, ready to burst at any second as long as he keeps his strokes steady. Your mouth falls open and hangs slack so you can simply breathe as each minute that passes brings you to that edge until that heated knot in your core finally becomes so pressurized that it bursts open and sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body like a river of fire.

You cry out as your body lurches and your hips buck against his hand and he groans in ecstasy to feel your body clench around his fingers. “There ya go princess, let it out,” he coaxes as he curls his fingers over and over inside you through your orgasm until you finally relax as the ecstasy subsides.

You lay there breathing heavily as you try to contemplate how hard you just came, but your thoughts are wrangled back into the present as you feel heated lips against your neck trailing down to your collarbone.

Simon pauses and pulls his face back up to meet yours for only a moment; he is on a mission and can’t be stopped for long. “I am gonna fuckin’ ruin ya,” he snarls his deadly promise into your face before flashing a smirk and diving back into his work. 

Your body is burning under his fingertips as if everywhere he touches he sets ablaze and he can feel it as his lips follow closely behind. Down the line of your abdomen he places his kisses: over your ribcage, across your waist, over your belly button, and coming to a stop right above your shorts. 

His fingers hook into the fabric. “Lift your hips,” he urges and you follow his request as he grips into the material to pull them over the curve of your backside and down your thighs, tugging them the last bit off your feet and tossing them out of the way.

Only the skimpy bit of fabric that is your soaked panties remains, but his feral brain will only let him remove them one way and it isn’t with his hands. He moves in by lowering his head to your pelvis, his warm breath traveling over the sensitive skin just below your belly button until he raises goosebumps across the surface in response. The scent of your arousal fills his nostrils and it only fuels his urges with fervor.

“Christ, Simon,” you moan at delicious feeling of the damp heat from his mouth warming your skin, followed immediately by a louder one as the stubble on his jaw pricks you as the touch of his lips meets your body so that his teeth can sink into the top of your panties. 

Your head pops up over the line of your body at the strange sensation just in time to watch him slink down over your legs with shoulders arched and muscles rippling across his back while dragging the cloth of your panties stuck securely between his teeth. He looks up so his eyes can lock onto yours as he goes and you swear you can see them darken with the untamed desire that is floating in their depths, desire to give in to all that he has denied himself for so long and unleash it on you in the most depraved ways.   

He makes it to the end of your legs and harshly pulls the fabric off, holding the garment in his mouth like an animal as his chest heaves strenuously up and down with each labored breath. God, he can’t stop the way your body holds his gaze hostage. He is drowning in the beauty of you as he stares with baited breath, admiring how all this gorgeous flesh that he has pinned to get just a glimpse of time and again is right in his grasp and all he has to do now is reach out and take it.

Taking your damp panties out of his mouth and setting them onto the bed, he pops his gaze back up to your eyes. “Open your legs,” he says, inhaling sharply as you follow his direction and he sees your naked pussy presented to him. 

He tries to be as coherent as he can through the heavy panting he cannot settle, mix that with the visceral reaction he has to seeing you bare and dripping before him and his temperature begins to skyrocket so that the overwhelming desire he feels for you in that moment is strangling him like a straightjacket of heat.

Suddenly he is overwhelmed with an insatiable hunger to get at you with his tongue, wanting to feel you squirm across his face as his mouth makes contact and he begins to lap at you like a hungry dog. He needs you to make an absolute mess of cum across his stark features as he uses his tongue to draw out your pleasure until your scent has fused with his skin and your nectar has awakened the taste buds in his mouth.

Crawling on all fours he stalks back in close and in the haze of his desire, he grabs your thighs harshly to spread them even wider as he drops down onto his stomach. “Was jus’ gonna fuck ya, but not yet,” he growls. “You’re gonna cum again and I’m gonna eat ya out till ya do.”

No more words, he ignores your pleas to give you a moment as he moves his face in and places his lips to the petals of your pussy in delicate kisses that send shivers up the length of your spine from the stimulation and makes your head strike back into the mattress as you cry out.

You shut your eyes tight as you are immediately overwhelmed with the sensation of his lips pressed between your legs as he uses his tongue to push through them so he can suction around that sweet little bud and sucks it into his mouth. 

The sensation from your still tender cunt makes you buck your hips and slam them against his nose, but that doesn’t deter him one bit. The thrill of the struggle to eat you out while you’re still so sensitive is what makes him want more; Simon wants those whining cries and moans, wants to feel trapped against you as your muscles flex and make you lock your legs around his ears.

It takes a bit, but soon the slight discomfort subsides and all that’s left is the ecstasy of his agile tongue. Your hand finds the back of his blonde head and pushes down so that he is pressed tighter against you. Simon hums his pleasure deep inside his chest at the act of being forced to suffocate against you and the grip wrapped around your thighs tightens as if he is physically trying to hold on to his sanity.

The moisture rolls down Simon’s strong chin, through the stubble on his jaw, and drips down his face onto the sheets beneath him so that a noticeable dark stain begins to form on the fabric. Good, get him filthy, wreck his sheets, he doesn’t care. He isn’t going to stop licking and sucking no matter how bad it gets.  

How does he do it? How does he keep up the stamina to keep going at your clit with his tongue with just as much vigor as when he started minutes and minutes ago? You whine and it seems to make him go in harder, you buck and he is not deterred; you’ve never been treated like it was a fucking pleasure to get the opportunity to eat you out before.

Just the insatiable way Simon uses his mouth to pleasure you is enough of an aphrodisiac to kickstart the second gathering of warmth in your belly.

You want to cum again for him and so you leave him to his work and focus on letting him go wild. Giving up that control is what it takes and within minutes, you can feel that tautness inside about to give way to your ecstasy. You go completely silent and with a few more strokes of his tongue your orgasm comes on strong so that your legs draw together out of reflex to the overwhelming euphoria. 

Your thighs are wrapped around him so tight that if you don’t let up he is going to die between your legs from lack of oxygen, but still he doesn’t give up; if he dies, he dies. The air is slowly slipping away and just before he goes to pry you open so that he can escape, your body relaxes and you release your hostage as you sink into the mattress.

Simon rolls onto his side and rests his head against the shaking muscle of your thigh to catch his breath, lifting his eyes to gaze at the mess shimmering as it leaks from between the lips of your pussy, the mess that is entirely his doing. He smiles to himself as he wipes away the spit and cum that’s accumulated on his chin before he sits up and moves back over top of you. 

“God damn, ya never sounded better than when you’re cummin’ for me,” he breathes the words against your raw mouth as he steals it again, trying to drink your whimpers as you come back down that second time.  

There is a bit of fidgeting between your bodies that you can feel as he keeps your face at his mercy, but soon it becomes clear that he is wrestling down his sweats off his hips and kicking them off his legs. 

Through a panting breath you beg him. “Please.”

That’s all you have to say to make your intention clear, that one word is all he needs to understand what you’re imploring him to do; you need to feel him, even though you aren’t even sure you can stand another orgasm. It doesn’t matter, you need his cock inside you - now.

The tip of his free cock throbs against the skin on your thigh and he grabs your hand to wrap around it so you can get your bearings on what he has to work with; it’s definitely got some girth.  “Tha’s all for you,” he grunts as your hand tightens around the shaft. “Ya want it, princess?”

Staying silent, your hand still wrapped around it, you move it to align the head with your sopping entrance. You can taste the distinct musk of yourself in his kiss that he steals as he pushes his hips forward and presses the tip against the membrane. 

“I’ll go slow,” he reassures in a whisper on your mouth, “jus’ breathe for me.” 

Those strong hands hold your hips steady as he clenches his abdominals and drives the tip of his cock carefully up into you until your body gives way to his girth. The stretch causes your walls to expand quickly and you cry out at the delicious feeling of suddenly being so completely full of him. 

Christ, you’re so tight that he has to pause and pant heavily to gain control of his sanity before he attempts to continue or else he risks coming too soon. And nothing, absolutely nothing, is going to make this moment you’ve both waited agonizingly long for be over before it’s begun.  

“Tha’s it, sweetheart, tha’s it,” he struggles to get the words out coherently. 

His thrusts start slow, hips rocking back and forth easy until he is sure he can pick up the pace without losing it. As the speed increases so does the strength, each new thrust hitting harder and harder as he holds onto your hips to keep your body from being shoved away from the intensity.  

“Fuck…ya drive me insane,” he grunts, his fingertips digging into the meat of your hips so hard you can already feel the skin begin to bruise. “And I can’t fuckin’ get enough a it.”

His breaths are now ragged, each one more of a struggle to draw in than the last and his thrusts become more sloppy with each pass as he fights himself to gain back control.

“Your mine,” he groans with a fierceness that sets your soul on fire to hear. “All mine, no one else can fuckin’ have ya. Understand? You belong ta me. Say it, say ‘I’m yours, Simon’.”

There isn’t a moment of hesitation as the words fall effortlessly from your lips. “I’m yours, Simon,” you repeat his words and he slams into your hard.

He drills his fingertips into your soft thighs to hold on to them like handlebars. “Say it again,” he commands.

“I’m yours, Simon.”

He frees one of his hands from your thighs to find the back of your neck and closing his eyes, he leans forward while pulling your head towards him to rest against you with foreheads touching. “Again.” The needy word is barely audible.

You steady your voice by taking a deep breath. “Simon, I am only yours,” you reassure and again he slams his cock into you more vigorously in response.

He could ask you to repeat the phrase ad nauseam until you are hoarse and he would still want to hear it again; he can’t get enough of the way it makes his heart pound faster and faster to hear you say it with such conviction as his cock is buried inside you. It’s the only thing he wants, the only thing he craves, and he cannot help the way he wants to hear it again so he can commit it to memory in case this is all some big dream he will soon wake up from. 

Your bodies slip against each other more now as the perspiration created from your copulation coats over all that exposed skin until you both sparkle in the soft light of the room. His hips roll into you with a sense of urgency; he’s close, but he has to be sure you come first. Reaching between your bodies into the gap created from this position, he guides his hand down the warm, glistening skin of your pelvis to slip his fingers back between your damp petals and up against your swollen clit. 

You mewl pitifully into his face with your mouth hung open as the pleasure radiates out from that tiny bead that his fingers rub over down into your core and you can’t help but try and push against his hand that is keeping your head locked to his as you desperately try to arch your back. “Gonna cum again,” you struggle to say. 

Simon nods his head against yours. “Finish for me, sweetheart,” he groans against your bottom lip as his fingers slip through all that natural lubrication that begins to dribble down over the back of his hand towards his knuckles the longer he strokes. “I need ya ta cum one more fuckin’ time for me.”

Your walls are fluttering around him, the pressure in the pit of your stomach almost painful as your body strains to bring you to orgasm for the last time. But it can’t be stopped even if you wanted it to, you are at the point of no return and there is no turning back. You whimper into his face, loud and pitiful, seeing stars in the darkness behind your closed eyes. 

He adjusts his head and opens his eyes so his sight can watch the movement of your bodies, watching to make sure that he is keeping steady. “That’s it, pretty girl,” he grunts, about to cum himself, “come on my cock. Show me how I’m tha only one that knows how ta make ya come.”

A few hesitant groans and your body clenches as you reach climax once again, only this time the wave of pleasure is more intense as his cock is buried inside you. And Simon feels it, the way you core squeezes him and he can’t hold off from cumming any longer. At the last possible second he pulls out of you and up between your thighs as his warm cum shoots out the tip of his cock to cover your stomach. 

Through the mind-numbing ecstasy flooding your body to make your limbs tingle, you quickly reach for him and wrap your hand around his shaft firmly, stroking it to milk his orgasm for as long as possible as he grunts deep and guttural while writhing in your touch. His fingers sink into your thighs as he sits back and lets you finish him off until he slows his movements and places his large hand atop yours, causing you to immediately slow to a stop.  

Your hand releases him and falls heavily onto the mattress beside you as you lay there and try to calm your breathing. The sweat along your curves starts to cool your burning skin the longer you stay still and it isn’t much longer before you start to get a chill. The hulking officer still kneeling between your legs is able to gain control of himself after a few minutes and moves to lay beside you on the bed, but not before stretching himself to the floor to grab his shirt.

Simon moves in closer and using the top he wipes up his cum off your stomach carefully, making sure to get it all before tossing the garment back to the ground. You turn your head to look up into his face as he props himself up on his elbow and meets your gaze.

“You going soft on me?” you ask, your tone light and playful as you are too tired to even try and pretend your usual attitude towards him is going to be kept up now.

Grabbing your hand he laces his fingers through the spaces in between your own, his thumb stroking over your knuckles gently. “Just keep quiet and fuckin’ enjoy it, yeah?” he returns, pulling your arm to roll you over so you are against his chest. 

Your eyes scan the small room to find the solitary clock along the wall and seeing how late it is you make the decision that it’s time to head back to your own room. The night is waning faster than you thought and now that the problem has been fixed, you both should really get some sleep.

Without a word you crawl your way out from his side and begin the search for your clothes; you won’t make it far across base naked. Simon props himself up against the wall behind the head of his bed, one arm behind him like a headrest as those dark eyes follow you through the room collecting your clothes to get dressed. Strange thoughts are already swirling around in his mind now that it’s clear of his desire, but he keeps those thoughts locked tight behind his closed lips and just enjoys the sight of your body until those silky curves are once again hidden from his sight. 

Your shirt is put on last and with that he too makes it out of bed and tosses on his sweats to walk with you the short distance to the door. “Till next time, yeah?” you say with a light chuckle, delaying the inevitable for a few seconds more so that the heat in your cheeks can die down.

Pulling you back against his warm chest with a strong arm wrapped around your waist, he places another grateful kiss to your lips and the moment you break apart he places his forehead against yours. “Thank you,” he whispers in the space between your raw mouths.

“Anytime,” you say with eyes still closed. “Just say the word and I’m here to do this again.” 

He moves back and you shoot him a bright smile as you reach for the door handle before you can talk yourself out of it and just like that you make your way out into the night. His eyes stay on you until he can’t make out your form in the darkness anymore and only then does he head back inside with a question pressing to the forefront of his thoughts.

What the hell has he gotten himself into now?

Days pass in normal fashion, but Simon doesn’t speak a peep about that night; there’s no requests for more encounters, no mentions of how good it was, nothing. You find it odd after all the intensity you had both shared, after the way he had told you how much he really wanted you to make him beg, that all of a sudden it would just be radio silence from him. Perhaps it would just remain a secret that you would share or maybe… maybe he thinks it was a mistake.

Whatever the case you keep it to yourself and things around the base return to the usual standard of monotony that day to day life brings whenever there are no missions scheduled. The only thing that keeps you from over thinking too much is the fact that Simon addresses you as he always has, but you can feel some space between you that hadn’t been there before and it puts a sour taste in your mouth that you can’t seem to shake.

More days pass in this confusing limbo, more nights spent alone in your bed without that thrill of making your superior cum again and now you’re frustrated. It wasn’t just Simon that got opened to something new, you did too and you liked it. Now it’s just over and tonight you’ve just about had it.

“I guess I better just get used to it,” you mutter to yourself as you roll over to turn out the lamp to at least try and get some rest.

You aren’t certain how long you’ve been asleep, but something suddenly breaks you out of your slumber. In your sleepy haze you aren’t entirely sure it’s actually anything until it happens again. Tap, tap, tap. Someone is knocking at your door and it’s getting louder and more frantic. It’s late, much later than having random company would allow and curiosity has you in its grip as you bound out of bed.

“One second,” you call out as you quickly flick on the lamp and blink a few times to adjust to the light.  

Another round of knocks ring out and you grab a jacket you have lying about close by to cover your tank top and panties well enough to greet whoever it is on the other side as it’s clear you won’t be able to get fully dressed; must be urgent the way the person doesn’t even seem to react to your message. Quickly you grab for the handle and turn the knob, ready to find out what’s so pressing that you would be disturbed this late. 

You open the door barely a crack and there, standing close to the frame, is the hulking form of the lieutenant. His random presence catches you off guard; he is the last person you’d expect to see right now with no previous warning. What the hell is he doing here? Silly question, but you don’t want to assume even though you are quick to pick up on a few signs. 

His attention falls to you as he finishes surveying the area around him and those eyes immediately find yours looking up into his balaclava-masked face. You notice something strange in his gaze… like he’s nervous. The sweats he’s currently wearing look as if they’ve been thrown on in a hurry and he isn’t even wearing a shirt, it’s just his dog tags that are over his bare chest. It’s like he’s bolted all the way over here the way he breathes in laborious, heavy draws. 

“Bit late don’t you think?” you say, trying to ascertain from his demeanor what the agenda for this visit is. “Can I help you lieutenant?”

Simon clears his throat. “We need ta talk,” he says, ignoring the snide way you utter his title as he rushes to finish speaking as if he doesn’t have the time. “Are ya gonna fuckin’ let me in?”

“I don’t know if I should…” you counter, your sleepy state making it hard to hide how annoyed you are at his sudden appearance.

He knows he deserves it, but he is desperate to get in. “Please,” he pushes; it’s not a word he uses often.

You detect that hint of desperation in his tone and unable to stop yourself you silently fling open the door enough that he can pass by you to get in. Without another word shared between you both he quickly steps inside as you poke your head out. The hallway is quiet, everyone else still asleep for the night. No personnel can be seen moving about which leads you to believe this isn’t a business call… at least that’s what you hope. 

You close the door and set the lock out of habit, but as you go to turn around your pithy words about how he better have a good reason to wake you up in the dead of night die on your tongue as you are suddenly forced back first onto the surface of the door and pinned with by two large, rough hands on your hips as bulky muscles press against your stomach. The action is so fast it leaves your mind reeling and grasping for understanding.

“Again,” he growls in a huff, his face inches from yours. “Need it again.”

Simon’s breath is warm as it wafts over your features and you realize his balaclava is already discarded haphazardly on your floor; there is no barrier that now exists between you. The parts of his skin that make contact with your body through your clothing are feverish to the touch; it’s like he’s on fire. 

His hands on your hips grip into the muscle harder as he speaks. “Need ya ta make me come again,” he groans, his lips getting closer as he tries to hold back long enough to have this conversation. “Like ya did last time. Can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout it.”

“Can’t get off alone again, so you’ve come crawling back to me? Is that it?” you ask, followed by an irked chuckle as you try to steady your breathing, hoping he can’t tell how flustered that little move just made you. He doesn’t get that luxury, at least not yet.

Simon shakes his head slowly. “I’s not that,” he replies, quieting his voice. 

“Then what?” You stare back, waiting for his reply.

Simon licks at his bottom lip. “I’s not just ‘bout comin’... I want you, the way ya fuckin’ do it and I’ll do anythin’ ya tell me to jus’ ta have it like that again.”

His needy words stir something inside you, making you feel that boldness you did that night this happened the first time. How could you say no to a request like that? But you can’t just let all that silence that built between you both in the days since that night pass without saying something.

“Care to tell me why you’ve been ignoring the subject then? I thought we had something going last time and ever since you’ve acted like nothing happened. You made me think we were actually gonna keep this up.”

He pauses a moment as he thinks about how best to answer. “I… like tha fuckin’ power ya seem ta have over me,” he admits finally. He knows he’s fucked up and if this has any chance of going anywhere tonight he is going to have to be honest. “Not used to enjoyin’ somethin’ like that and once the pleasure subsided I got self-conscious ‘bout it. I shoulda said somethin’ to ya sooner. I’m not exactly tha best at tryin’ new things.”

Dammit, that’s actually a reasonable excuse. And, of course, you’re already forgiving him. Fuck. “I guess I can understand that,” you admit as he ever so subtly brushes his lips over your own, which doesn’t help you in staying mad at him. “But how do I know you’re not gonna just pull this shit again, hmm? That we’re not gonna keep playing this game where I give you what you need and then you just ignore me till you need it again? Cause guess what, I got needs too you know.”

Releasing one of your hips, his rough fingers come up to mess with the zipper on your jacket as he lets his confession linger in the air a moment until he pushes the edges of your open coat back to see the skimpy bits of clothing you have underneath and his breath hitches. Barely anything on; god damn he is starving.

Simon’s dark eyes meet yours one for a split second before he breaks the short distance between your faces to catch your lips in a desperate and heated kiss that you cannot help but reciprocate with the same intensity. It’s not exactly the answer you wanted, but in this moment it isn’t half bad and all that frustration melts away as your mouths dance in feverish bursts until finally Simon breaks the kiss.

He inhales a shuddered breath. “Because ya got me in a fuckin’ chokehold, luv.”

You swallow hard to collect yourself; you have been waiting for this chance to spread your dominant wings again and now is not the time to get swept up in his overwhelming desire, not if you want to do this right; you need to keep your head. 

“Well, then that was a good first start, but I’m gonna need a bit more before I can really forgive you.”

Those coffee eyes drift back up from your flushed lips to your face. “I wanna make this right. I’m at your fuckin’ mercy.”

The dog tags around his neck clank together as he shifts his stance and the sound causes a reaction that makes your hand gravitate to them without even thinking. Your fingers find the chain wrapped around his neck and slip around it, pulling it towards you to grip it tightly in your fist, and tug hard.

The action is unexpected and even though it takes Simon by surprise he cannot help moaning deep and guttural at the feeling of the chain tightening around his throat in such a delicious way. This is why he knew he had to come to you tonight, you are full of surprises and he was doing himself a disservice by staying away.

His reaction is evidence that you’re onto something and you decide to run with it. “Then you best be obedient and get down on your knees,” you whisper into the intimate space between your mouths. 

You wrap the chain around your fingers again to make it tighter around his neck and give the tags another hard jerk downward now. That hulking man doesn’t hesitate to follow your direction, slipping out of his shoes and lowering himself to the ground right at your feet like a dog waiting for a treat.      

God, it already feels good to be back in this headspace again, he thinks and your thoughts match the same without either of you knowing.

With your free hand, you wiggle your arm until the sleeve of your jacket slips down and you can pull your arm out of it before you switch the chain to the other hand and do the same to the other side. The clothing falls around your feet and there you stand in almost nothing. 

Simon’s eyes are immediately drawn to your clothed pussy, but you need him to pay attention and so you jerk the chain. “Eh, eyes up on me. I need you to look at me when I’m talking to you.”

Dark eyes snap back to your face and you smirk. “There you go,” you praise him before issuing your first of many demands. “Now, I want you to listen carefully. You are going to take off my panties… with your teeth.” 

Again he immediately follows your order, holding his hands together behind his back to prevent them from getting involved and he leans in to place his lips against your lower abdomen as his teeth latch onto the waistband of your panties. Simon looks up just for a second to see how you tower over him with his makeshift leash wrapped around your delicate fingers. 

God, you look so fucking good.

It makes him feel small for the first time since he was a kid. His body feels like it is vibrating at a new frequency now as he drags that small piece of fabric off your hips and down the length of your legs, excitement and ecstasy flooding through him at a rapid pace so that his heartbeat is pounding dangerously fast.

“That tongue of yours is going to have to do a little more forgiving,” you say as he reaches your ankles, his mouth still clinging to that delicate bit of fabric, his face in the floor as he waits for you to step out of them so that he can sit back upright with his prize between his lips. 

That’s all the context he needs to know what’s coming and his heartbeat leaps excitedly in his chest at the prospect of having his face buried between your legs. You can see the look in his eyes as he drops the undergarment from his mouth and lets it fall down to the floor between his knees; so eager to please in that aspect, but this isn’t for him, it’s for you. 

You chuckle at his electric enthusiasm that you can feel coursing from him as you place your hand at the back of his head. “Don’t get too excited now, you better be sure I can feel just how sorry you are,” you say as you push his head in towards your body, struggling to hide the way your breathing hitches as he gets in close and his balmy lips make contact with the skin on your abdomen.

His lips are already on the move the moment they touch down and he trails them to the mound of your sex, through the trimmed patch of hair at the top of your pussy, before they sink into the bulk of your thick, stocky thighs. Carefully he helps you to adjust your footing so that he can lift your leg. 

Propping it up on his own thigh, he sits back on his calves so that his face sits at the same level as your pussy and in a flash he is smothering his face right between those dangerously thick pieces of flesh as you widen your stance with his guidance to make it easier, adjusting the chain in your hand so you don’t lose it. Hardened fingertips dig themselves into your body, forcing you even more firmly against his face until his nose is pressed into your clit and he moves his head back and forth to stimulate it with the tip. 

There is little oxygen to be had from the heat between your legs, but it doesn’t matter. The sound of your soft gasp as he penetrates your entrance with his tongue is enough to sustain him until he can come up for air. Lapping and thrusting, wriggling and applying pressure, he writes his apology all over your cunt until the overwhelming euphoria of being devoured washes away the rest of your annoyance at him.

He is relentless in his endeavor, putting his all into eating you out like a goddess deserves. That tongue has moved up to your clit now and with weighty presses over the tiny bean you can barely contain yourself, but you continue to hang on. There is still more work to be done to him and as good as this feels you cannot let it derail your objective.

You raise your hand to the top of his head. “Who do you belong to Simon?” you ask through a moan as you pet over his scalp and through his short hair. “I’m going to need you to say it, out loud, so that I know you aren’t going to stray away from me again. Say it, say you’re mine.”

Simon pulls away from you swiftly. “I’m yours,” he says against your pussy.

You can feel his warm breath on your lips. “Again,” you push for another answer.

His fingers dig into your thighs. “I am yours, sweetheart.”

“Good boy,” you praise and you can feel him shiver against the palm of your hand still resting over the crown of his head. 

That military officer eats you out as if he is a man starved, his aggression in taking all he can from you making you lose it fast and you scramble as he goes to come up with what comes next. You hadn’t forgotten his words from the last encounter, how he wanted you to make him beg, and you know that this isn’t the way to make that happen; he would clearly love to drown in you forever and be happy to do it.

The more that pressure that builds at the base of your spine, the less time you have to claw through the haze to create a plan, but as you look up from the top of his head bobbing between your legs your sight lands on your bed and like being struck with lightning, your mind materializes a single image of him tied down, arms outstretched with you on top of him and you know what you want to do.

Calmly you try to pull him from you. “That’s enough,” you coax, but he digs his fingers in harder to your hips.

“Wanna make ya cum,” he groans into your body, but you pull him from you by contorting the chain and taking a step back to get out of his immediate way.

“I’m not done with you yet,” you say with a smirk as you look down into his face to see the lower half glimmering with your slick and his saliva. “It’s time to move on to the next part. Go get on the bed and lay down on your back up by the head… and don’t make me tell you again.”

Wiping the wet mixture from his mouth and chin with the back of his hand, he gets to his feet and heads to the bed just as you directed. You have to do this on the fly since you haven’t had any time to prepare, but thankfully your pack of gear isn’t far and making your way to it, you dive into one of your duffel bags. It takes you a minute, but finally your hand makes purchase with what you are searching for and you pull out a bundle of military issue rope. 

“Arms out,” you direct him as you make your way back over to the bed. “I know someone likes to get handsy, so we’re gonna take care of that.”

His eyes stay glued to your movements as you bind his wrists and strap them down to the legs under your bed. It’s a good thing you did because as soon as you finish you stand at the foot and remove your tank top agonizingly slowly, letting your breasts bounce as they fall out and you can see the way his pupils dilate; you know he is itching to get his hands on you again. His sweats start to tent even more than they had from the pleasure of being face-deep in your pussy as you stand there completely naked like the most gorgeous creature he’s ever seen.

Are you a devil, an angel? Whatever you are, he cannot get enough.

Like a lioness stalking through the grass, you slink onto the bed on all fours, moving until you are over top of his legs where you finally stop and your fingers brush across his stomach as you grab at the waistband of his pants. “Lift your hips,” you command and he does.

You pull them down and off his legs and you can see his cock is already pulsing at attention as it springs free from its cage. Fuck, he’s so hard already he can barely see straight and he has to clench his fists tight and take a few deep breaths to calm himself as he waits for further instruction.

Using the pad of your pointer finger, you lightly brush it over his tip and watch as he almost levitates off the bed as he groans. You wait until he has settled back down before you decide to speak, the smile on your face unable to be contained; oh, he is going to be begging alright, once you’re done with him.

“Here’s what we’re gonna do… we are going to play a little game. I want just the tip inside me, that’s it. And you’re going to lay there and let me warm it for a bit. If you can last till I say then I’ll let you fuck me however you want.” 

You lean over him to grab his chin firmly in your hand. “Do you understand?”

Simon struggles to keep his eyes from rolling back into his head as your skin brushes against him. Fuck, why did he wait so long for this? “Yes,” he says.

That drugged look in his eyes, you can’t get enough of it. “Yes, what?”

Crap, what should he say? You are waiting for his reply, but his mind is already gone. Luckily the soldier in him takes over. “Yes, sergeant, understood.”

That’ll do. “You’re even better at this than you were last time,” you praise, releasing his chin to position your body over top of him, using his chest as leverage, and you can tell he is holding his breath as you grab his cock to place the head right at your entrance.

“Aww, baby, you better breathe cause we’re going to be here a while,” you say and lower your hips to take the tip inside the threshold of your wet cunt.

Simon is now in a battle with internal demons as he fights himself not to cum from this small bit of insertion, his cock is throbbing something fierce as your body puts the tip in a chokehold. You aren’t faring any better as he stretches you out; all you want is to lower yourself on it all the way, but you push that feeling down and incline yourself forward so you won’t be tempted.

The heartbeat coming up through your palms pressed into his chest is thunderous and you can’t help but smile as you count the strikes to calm down. “There we go,” you say after a moment. “See, you’re already doing so well Si. If you keep this up you’re gonna get what you want, to fuck the shit out of me.”

Minutes pass, but the time passes so incredibly slowly that it feels like hours to the lieutenant. He’d been in all types of high stress situations in his career, but nothing had ever been more overwhelming than having to rest just barely inside you without letting that animalistic part of himself take over to thrust up into you until you both cum.

Sweat starts to gather on his bare chest the longer this goes, a product of the conflict raging inside, and it rolls down in shimmering beads over the curves of his muscles, through the hair covering his chest and abdomen, all the way past his belly button. 

You can tell Simon is losing the war with himself to stay still as he unintentionally tries to buck his hips up into you, but he can’t get any purchase as you raise yourself up off him. “Ah, ah, ah, the more you struggle, the less you get,” you tease. “I said just the tip and I meant it. Now, be a good boy and stay still; we’re almost done. You don’t want to lose it right at the end, do you?”

The need is killing him and he can hardly see straight anymore. He wants, no he needs to be deep inside you, but he can’t. You won’t let him. Instead his eyes fixate on something else, anything to give him the strength to survive. 

“See something you like?” you ask with a coy smile spread across your lips. “I can see how hard you’re focusing on my nipples.”

“Need ‘em… in my mouth…” he stammers out. 

“Then stay still and maybe I’ll let you suck them.”

Forcing himself not to move an inch, he becomes like stone even as his muscles twitch and you move your upper body towards him just enough so that he can lean his head in and capture one of your breasts in his hot mouth. 

The moan he lets out in relief is intoxicating, matching the way you feel in between his lips. His suction is strong, pulling as much of the soft, supple tissue into his mouth that he can until breathing becomes nearly impossible. 

“You like that?” you ask in a groan of pleasure and he nods enthusiastically. 

There’s a light pop as he unsuctions his lips from around the first breast to get at the other one, pulling it into his mouth with just as much enthusiasm as the first one. Your distraction is working a little too well, but on you now and it isn’t long before it’s going to make you break.  

You need to end this soon.

“How bad do you want to fuck me now?” you ask, grinding on his tip as you push on his chin to remove him from your nipple so he can at least try and answer.  

There is a hazy quality to his eyes now that reminds you of someone after a night out of heavy drinking. He can barely speak as he feels your slick start to drip down his shaft, but he swallows to gather the strength to create a simple sentence. “So fuckin’ bad.” The words feel too cumbersome in his mouth.

“You want me to untie you so you can take me?” you ask, your tone still cocky even as you yourself are falling apart.

“Please,” he grunts.

“Yeah, you gonna ruin this tight pussy? You gonna rail me so hard I can’t walk after?”

You risk lowering down a bit more onto his shaft and he has to bite the inside of his lip in order to answer. “Gonna ruin you.”

“Then you know what you have to do, Simon. You said it yourself last time and I am going to hold you to it.”

You rotate your hips as you squeeze so that your walls clamp down on him and he chokes on his own saliva as he strains to stay still. His cock is so sensitive he’s sure by now that a little breeze would make him blow his load, but that’s not how he wants it to happen. He’s come this far, the only way he wants to go out is from fucking you.

One more rotation and you stay still to give him a moment to recover; you need his fervent participation for this next part. “ Simon,” you say his name to make him focus on your face again, “beg.”

You’re not gonna go easy on him; that’s just what he wants. “Please,” he says in a whimper, his voice the most meek you’ve ever heard it. It surprises even him that he can sound so pathetic after all the years he’s been the dominant one. “Please, luv, I need ta fuck ya. I’m beggin’ ya luv, please. I’ll… I’ll… I’ll be your good boy. Whateva ya want me ta say, I’ll fuckin’ say it; whateva ya want me ta do, I’ll fuckin’ do it. Jus’ want ta be good for ya so we both can fuckin’ cum.”

“And you’re not gonna pull away from me again?” you ask. “Not gonna deny yourself this type of pleasure from now on?”

“I swear it,” he doesn’t hesitate to answer. “I’m yours, I belong to ya.”

A smile spreads across your lips and fills the features of your face. “Good boy,” you praise as you raise yourself off his body amongst his agonized grunts of displeasure. You move closer to the first wrist to undo the restraint. “That was better than I could have imagined, Simon. I think you’ve more than earned your turn now.”

The tie on his second wrist hasn’t even slipped off the bed before you are forcefully grabbed by the waist and flung onto your back as Simon rips your legs apart and clambers his hulking body in between your thighs. He looks down and sees the effect your teasing has had on you too as the lips of your pussy are covered with your arousal. 

What a pretty fucking sight.

But there’s something he’s been thinking of since you grabbed his dog tags back at the start of all this, one last thing he wants you to do as he pounds you into the mattress. Grabbing both of your arms by the wrists he wrenches them up so that your hands are near his neck. He releases them from his grasp and uses his own hands to encircle yours around his throat.

“Squeeze, hard,” he growls as he leans in to capture your lips and you apply ample pressure to the sides of his neck.

It’s like flicking on a switch and his kisses turn rough and intense in a second so that he is devouring your mouth with everything he has, shoving his tongue to the back of your mouth until you are so full of him just as you will be down below in only a few more seconds time. A low groan vibrates in his throat against your palms before spilling onto your tongue. 

“Mmm, gonna fuck the shit outta ya now, luv,” he gasps between the embraces of your mouths. 

God, yes, please. “Then give it to me, baby,” you purr as you keep your hands firmly around his neck. “That’s it, get your prize.”

Simon pushes your thighs back towards your chest as he aligns the head of his throbbing cock with your moist entrance and you can no longer hold back how much you need him in you, inching your hips forward as you try to force him inside. Is it desperate? Yes. Is it needy? Yes. Do you fucking care? Not even in the slightest.

He’s the one to chuckle now. “Christ, you’re gonna be tha death ‘a me and I’m gonna die fuckin’ happy as hell.” With that he pushes through the threshold and down the length of his thick shaft, bottoming out all the way inside.

After all that stimulation, being smothered in your tight, wet cunt is almost too much for his sanity to handle. Just entering you he is already seeing stars. What’s going to happen when he actually comes?  

The first of his movements comes swift and hard; there is no more time for being gentle, not with the way both of your bodies are in agony for release. Your poor, government issued mattress can hardly withstand the power of his desperate thrusts as he slams them forcefully into you, each one causing the springs to creak and groan loudly until it is echoing off the walls.   

You open your mouth, pushing yourself to keep in control even as he is shoving his cock so far into you, you swear you can feel it in your stomach. “That’s it, give it to me Simon. Fuck, I love the way you stretch me out.”

The sloppy sounds of your drenched pussy being penetrated so aggressively grow louder and louder the more he ruts into you at that relentless pace. He pushes your legs back farther against your chest to open you up even more, needing to get as deep as humanly possible. There is only one thing left in his feeble mind now: to make you both cum and cum hard.

You let out a moan as your body shakes up and down with each thrust and squeeze so that you tighten around him and it makes his thrusting falter, breaking his rhythm for a moment.

“Bloody hell, jus’ like that… fuck…”

His words fuel you to do it again and he groans. “Yeah? You like that?” you ask breathlessly and he nods.

“That’s what you do to me Simon,” you continue. “No one makes me feel like you do.”

You compress around him again and his body jolts. “God, you’re gonna make me cum. It feels so good, sweetheart. Don’t stop.” 

“I want you to cum, Si. Cum for me. I need it so fucking bad; I’ve been waiting so long to make it happen again.”

Just the thought of making him fall apart again is a stimulant in itself and all that pressure that had been previously built is quickly coming to a head, that warmth in your belly glowing through you with more intensity now. That look of euphoria must be plastered all over your face for him to see because he is focused in on you even harder at making sure his strokes are more even.

“You first,” Simon grunts. “And don’t fuckin’ hold back.”

He is fighting tooth and nail to hold on for just a little bit longer; he knows you can’t be far off. Then he sees your toes curling into the air at his sides and he instinctively knows that each thrust is hitting its mark precisely as it’s meant to, your body giving in to all the pleasure it needs to be satisfied. A few more pumps and there it is, just like that everything comes to a head with a shudder as your orgasm rockets through you fiery hot, making your body writhe in his grasp as your core flutters around his cock.

You place your hand over his gripped around your thigh and he laces his fingers in between the spaces in your own, holding onto you for dear life as you coax him with shaky words. “Let go, baby. That’s it.”

He isn’t far behind and it doesn’t take many more strong thrusts until the warmth that had been tirelessly overwhelming his body all night finally shoots through his body while he releases a loud moan, the euphoria coursing like a burning river of fire through his veins as he rips his cock out and you reach between your legs to take it in your free hand to stroke it over your stomach. His warm load shoots out in short bursts, coating the skin on your abdomen in his cum.

“You did so good for me, Simon,” you sweetly praise in repeat as you work his cock until he has to tap your hand to get you to stop.

His limbs are shaking from the comedown as he breathes in deep, his body spent, his mind completely blank in his state of ecstasy, and he releases your legs to tumble down beside you exhausted. A few minutes pass silently in that high until he can collect himself enough to speak again.   

With his palm against your cheek, he turns your head to face him. “If I ever do somethin’ as stupid as tryin’ to stay away from ya again, ya ‘ave my permission to fuckin’ deck me,” he says with a laugh before scooching in closer to your face to place a kiss to your lips.

“That’s not gonna happen,” you say against his mouth, “ cause you said it yourself Si, you’re mine now. And you would never deny me what’s mine, would you?”

Another kiss placed to your lips, this one lingering a bit. “Never,” he says finally.