Page 48 of Courting Danger

It wasn’t just the shock of hearing a curse word fall from Garrison’s lips, although that was also a surprise. No, what really pushed me over the edge was the insinuation that we’d be doing this again in the future.

Did this mean Garrison wasn’t going to leave?

My climax finally ended. With a sigh, I slumped against Garrison, but the man didn’t loosen his hold. As I regained my breath, I became acutely aware of the hard shaft still buried inside me and stretching me open.

I wasn’t even surprised when Garrison gripped my hips and lifted me up a few inches only to immediately let go. I dropped back onto Garrison’s lap, and the man’s cock plunged back inside me.

“No, wait... I can’t...” My words could barely be heard around my moaning. I may as well not have spoken at all as my pleas for mercy went unheeded. Strong hands kept a hold of me, bouncing me on Garrison’s lap. Over and over, I was lifted and pulled back down, forcing Garrison’s cock to slam right into my prostate each time.

I rode the line between pleasure and pain as nerves already overstimulated from my orgasm were repeatedly assaulted.

A line of spit dripped from the corner of my panting mouth, but I didn’t even have enough strength to wipe it away. I was a ragdoll being ruthlessly fucked by my master.

Garrison seemed determined to make it last as long as possible. Each time the man neared his own end, he’d slow down. Then, after a moment to regain his composure, he’d speed up again with even more enthusiasm.

I wasn’t sure how long it went on for. It felt as though I’d passed out, though I remained completely conscious. My own arousal slowly came to life again, bobbing between my legs in time with each thrust.

A voice in my head reminded me that my hands were free. I could take care of my own arousal if I wanted to. My fingers twitched with the desire to do so, but I couldn’t find the strength to raise my arms.

One of Garrison’s hands slid down and gripped my cock, giving the shaft a few hard strokes. That was all it took to push me over the edge again.

We came at the same time, trembling together as we rode out the last of our pleasure. I nearly face-planted into the floor the moment Garrison pulled out of me. I braced one trembling hand against the carpet to try and stay upright, but I could already tell it wouldn’t last. Every muscle in my body seemed to have been replaced with Jello.

I didn’t even have the strength to struggle when strong arms wrapped back around me, and I was lifted off the floor. Garrison carried me to the bed, where I was gently laid out over the mattress.

I closed my eyes and floated on a cloud of cotton and silk. I heard Garrison walk away but didn’t bother to open my eyes. The only thing in that direction was the bathroom.

A minute later, Garrison returned with a wet washcloth.

The water was warm, but I still groaned in protest as Garrison cleaned us both up. The moment it was done, and the washcloth was gone, I pulled him into the bed with me. Hard muscles covered by soft skin made for much better bedding, and I cuddled against Garrison like I was getting ready to hibernate.

We lay together in silence for a while, both drifting on the edge of consciousness.

Judging by the clock, at least an hour passed before I felt capable of talking. Keeping my head pillowed on Garrison’s chest, I looked up at the other man with curious eyes.

“It’s probably too early to ask, but... Earlier you mentioned wanting to sleep together again. Was that just sex talk, or...”

Garrison took a deep breath, causing my head to rise and fall. He didn’t answer right away. The weight of so many different words danced behind his eyes as he considered them one by one.

“It’s true that I would like to know how it feels to have you inside me. There are a lot of things I’d like to experience with you. Whether or not I get to know these things, however, is up to you.”

I sat up so I could look Garrison directly in the eye. “Up to me? How so?”

Again, Garrison didn’t respond right away. He stared at the ceiling, watching some far horizon only he could see.

“You asked me once about my tattoo.”

Not sure what to say in the face of such a non sequitur, I merely nodded and waited for Garrison to continue.

“Each field cross represents a fellow soldier I saw die. A few happened over the years I served, but most were lost on my last mission.”

The rest of the story lingered in the air between us, eager to be told. Yet, Garrison struggled with the words. He opened his mouth several times like he was about to start talking, but each time he would scowl then close it again.

Though I still didn’t know what this had to do with his question, I figured a little prompting couldn’t hurt.

“To lose so many people at once, I’m guessing something went wrong.”

I had never counted the number of field crosses on Garrison’s tattoo, but there were enough to completely encircle the man’s right bicep.

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