Page 27

“Please,” she added, immediately knowing what he wanted. She’d always been a smart girl like that.
He moved his thumb. “You’re so fucking wet for me.”
“Yes, only for you.” She whimpered. “Oh my God, please.”
When he quickened his strokes, her back arched again and her wrists jerked on the cuffs. Staring down at her, he studied the way her long brown hair covered his pillow, and how her perky breasts bounced as she writhed on the bed, her breaths coming out in spurts. She was the prettiest, sexiest, most perfect woman he’d ever brought to his bed.
If she wasn’t careful, he’d never let her go.
Her body tensed, and he watched her as she squirmed. “I…I’m going to come,” she cried.
“No.” He moved faster, nibbling on her shoulder at the same time. “You’re not allowed.”
She cried out, tossing her head to the side. He couldn’t tell if she was trying to escape him, or give him better access to her neck. “Jake, please.”
His cock ached to be inside her. “Enough,” he gritted out. He stopped touching her and grabbed the hem of her shirt. “Time to see the rest of you.”
“B-But you can’t get my shirt off.” She tugged on the cuffs. “I’m stuck.”
“The hell I can’t.” He ripped her shirt in half. She gasped, her eyes simmering with lust. He quickly removed her bra, too. He stared down at her, memorizing the sight of her lying there almost naked in his bed. Nothing had prepared him for this.
For the reality of her.
“You’re…I’m…fuck.” He broke off and stood up, knowing he was perilously close to losing control. He removed his own clothes, staring at her as he did so. He needed to be unclothed before he’d allow himself to go near her again. Because once he touched her, he didn’t want to have to stop.
He wouldn’t stop, come hell or high water.
Completely naked, he straightened and met her eyes. She examined him, her gaze dipping low and falling on his injured leg. When she froze, he shifted his weight on his good leg, his head high despite the nerves bundling in his gut. She was seeing him now—really seeing him.
All of him.
The jagged red marks crisscrossed over his thigh, and the skin over his knee was puckered and ugly. Always would be. Would she turn away in disgust? Would this be a deal-breaker? His ex had hated his wounds. She hadn’t been able to love him. She’d left him, and he hadn’t blamed her.
That didn’t mean he was the type to sit there bemoaning the loss of his once-perfect leg. If people didn’t like the huge red scars, well, then fuck them. It wasn’t his problem if they couldn’t handle the sight of the damage done to him in the name of his country. But for the first time…he cared.
Cared what she thought. He didn’t like this weakness she brought out in him.
Her gaze returned to his face, the sympathy she felt for him way too clear. “What happened?”
“IED. I didn’t move fast enough, and it took me down,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Is this going to be a problem for you?”
She shook her head. “N-No. Of course not.”
He gave a nod, as if he hadn’t been worried about her decision at all. As if his heart hadn’t leaped when she hadn’t winced in disgust or sent him away. Time to regain control. “Good. Now beg me.”
She trembled. “Beg you to do what?”
“Touch you.” He snatched a condom out of the drawer in his nightstand. He rolled it over his bulging cock, his fist gripping the thick shaft as he did so. “Beg me. Tell me where you want me first.”
She licked her lips. “I…I can’t talk like that.”
“Yeah, you can.” He parted her legs, opening her up to him. Seeing her like this almost had him forgetting all about the rules. He didn’t move. “Don’t move. Beg me.”
She dug her foot into the mattress. “Please. Kiss me. Touch me.”
“Where?”
“Everywhere.”