Page 38
Story: Special Ops Seduction
And there was no way anything should be this good.
It was asking for trouble. For fate to come in and set things to rights.
For once in his life, Jonas didn’t have it in him to care when that other shoe might fall.
Because it wouldn’t be now.
Holding her between him and the wall, he found the bottom of that dress she was wearing. It was frilly and feminine and too much for him to handle even as he pulled it up, over her head, so he could toss it aside.
And then, maybe, he died.
But his resurrection was glorious and he handled it by grinding the hardest part of him into the place where she was so soft she threw her head back and keened a little bit.
And meanwhile, he glutted himself on the view.
Because as he’d always suspected, and pretended he didn’t notice, she was perfect.
Absolutely and utterly perfect, and he thought his mouth was watering.
Her breasts were surprisingly plump and lush, and he realized as he fitted his palms to them that she must spend a significant amount of time clamping them down. He marveled at that as he dispensed with the little bralette she wore, so he could finally hold the weight of her in his hands.
And below, the expanse of her belly was a wonder. She was toned and taut, not so much sporting a six-pack as the suggestion of one, and all of it tight. Pretty, he would have said. Because Bethan wasn’t a skinny girl. She was a warrior. The thighs that gripped him were thick and strong, the way they would have to be. The way his were, too, because what they did demanded strong quads and fearless hamstrings.
He had never wanted a woman so badly in his life.
And for a moment, Jonas had to stop and take it in. That this was happening. That everything that had been storming around inside of him for years was real, that she shared it as he’d always known she did, and that there was only one place this was going.
He knew he shouldn’t. He knew he should step away, set her down, and try to regain his equilibrium.
But he didn’t.
He didn’t want to.
“If you stop,” Bethan said then, and there was nothing even or easy about her voice, “I’ll kill you. Not metaphorically.”
And despite himself, Jonas grinned.
Then it was a kind of race, but one where they were both going to win.
He tipped her against the wall again, and held her there.She reached between them, hooked her fingers in the panties she wore, and ripped them straight off her own body.
Jonas didn’t think he’d ever seen anything hotter in his life. His body shook with it.
“I don’t have a condom,” he managed to get out.
“I’m on LARC,” Bethan replied. “Long-acting reversible contraception, suitable for the combat-ready female, of course.” She smiled, wicked and sweet. “An IUD, Jonas. We’re good.”
He couldn’t believe that he’d had the ability to get out a sentence, and that was before he found her sweet, slick center and tested her with his fingers. The evidence of how much she wanted him almost took him to his knees.
Almost.
Then it was as if he’d done this a thousand times before. With her, only her. As if this were a simple thing after all. He reached down to work his own zipper and Bethan lifted herself up, like they’d already plotted out all the angles.
As if their bodies had been ready for this for years.
He pulled himself free, positioned himself, and their eyes locked together.
And slowly, so slowly it made his head spin, he guided himself to her entrance and she lowered herself down to take him in.
It was asking for trouble. For fate to come in and set things to rights.
For once in his life, Jonas didn’t have it in him to care when that other shoe might fall.
Because it wouldn’t be now.
Holding her between him and the wall, he found the bottom of that dress she was wearing. It was frilly and feminine and too much for him to handle even as he pulled it up, over her head, so he could toss it aside.
And then, maybe, he died.
But his resurrection was glorious and he handled it by grinding the hardest part of him into the place where she was so soft she threw her head back and keened a little bit.
And meanwhile, he glutted himself on the view.
Because as he’d always suspected, and pretended he didn’t notice, she was perfect.
Absolutely and utterly perfect, and he thought his mouth was watering.
Her breasts were surprisingly plump and lush, and he realized as he fitted his palms to them that she must spend a significant amount of time clamping them down. He marveled at that as he dispensed with the little bralette she wore, so he could finally hold the weight of her in his hands.
And below, the expanse of her belly was a wonder. She was toned and taut, not so much sporting a six-pack as the suggestion of one, and all of it tight. Pretty, he would have said. Because Bethan wasn’t a skinny girl. She was a warrior. The thighs that gripped him were thick and strong, the way they would have to be. The way his were, too, because what they did demanded strong quads and fearless hamstrings.
He had never wanted a woman so badly in his life.
And for a moment, Jonas had to stop and take it in. That this was happening. That everything that had been storming around inside of him for years was real, that she shared it as he’d always known she did, and that there was only one place this was going.
He knew he shouldn’t. He knew he should step away, set her down, and try to regain his equilibrium.
But he didn’t.
He didn’t want to.
“If you stop,” Bethan said then, and there was nothing even or easy about her voice, “I’ll kill you. Not metaphorically.”
And despite himself, Jonas grinned.
Then it was a kind of race, but one where they were both going to win.
He tipped her against the wall again, and held her there.She reached between them, hooked her fingers in the panties she wore, and ripped them straight off her own body.
Jonas didn’t think he’d ever seen anything hotter in his life. His body shook with it.
“I don’t have a condom,” he managed to get out.
“I’m on LARC,” Bethan replied. “Long-acting reversible contraception, suitable for the combat-ready female, of course.” She smiled, wicked and sweet. “An IUD, Jonas. We’re good.”
He couldn’t believe that he’d had the ability to get out a sentence, and that was before he found her sweet, slick center and tested her with his fingers. The evidence of how much she wanted him almost took him to his knees.
Almost.
Then it was as if he’d done this a thousand times before. With her, only her. As if this were a simple thing after all. He reached down to work his own zipper and Bethan lifted herself up, like they’d already plotted out all the angles.
As if their bodies had been ready for this for years.
He pulled himself free, positioned himself, and their eyes locked together.
And slowly, so slowly it made his head spin, he guided himself to her entrance and she lowered herself down to take him in.
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