Page 25 of Praise Me: Soldier

“Theo—”

“What would I do if something happened to you?” I snap into her neck, because, Jesus Christ, her smooth skin is like a siren calling to me in the middle of a dust storm. She’s the only pure thing for a million miles. The light at the end of a hellish tunnel. I suck on the soft skin of her neck and drag that suction up to her ear, becoming more and more aware of her tits mashed to my chest, the way she molds to my hard muscles, like she was made just for me. I’m in the cradle of her thighs, and fuck, this is no time for a long, heavy ache to form between my legs, but the heaven of her is so tempting when all a man knows is hell. She’s salvation.

“We can’t…we can’t fuck here,” I rasp, licking the shell of her ear, burying my face in her fragrant hair and groaning at the light, innocent smell. “Out in the open. We can’t…”

“Kiss me, Theo. It’s okay.”

“I…” My heart is slamming up against my eardrums. Or is that gunfire? I don’t know. I don’t fucking know, but the horrific soundtrack of war fades slightly when I feel her breath on my mouth. And I just sort of sink myself into the mouth she’s offering, plumes of light streaking across my vision at the warmth and delicacy of her lips. How her thighs seem to settle wider as I fall further into the whimpering slants of her mouth. “Did you come all the way here for a fuck, baby?” I mutter, gripping her jaw in my hand and turning her head, lapping at her pulse, that sleek column that holds so much life. “You must need it so bad.”

“I do,” she whispers, her fingers tunneling through my hair. “I need you.”

A rain of bullets whizzes past my ear and I tense up, my hand dropping to her throat and gripping it hard. “Stay quiet.”

I don’t realize my eyes are closed until I open them to assure myself she’s nodding. And her eyes are gorgeous, but they’re full of trepidation. Obviously. We’re in enemy territory. She’s not safe. But…God. I shift my hips around, and it’s enough movement to feel the heat of her cunt through my jeans. Enough to know she’s not wearing any underwear.

“Did you come here to get pregnant?” I’m just so confused as to why she would risk her life to come visit me in the middle of hell. It makes no sense. Unless… “Are you ovulating? Is that why you took this risk, July?”

She’s trying to answer, but she can’t because my hand is locked around her throat.

She’s pulling at my fingers, her eyes widening in alarm.

Denial spears me on an intake of breath, and I loosen my grip slightly.

“Th-Theo—” she gasps.

“We’re going to have to make it fast,” I mutter, lowering a hand to unzip my jeans, huffing and puffing while I fish my aching dick out of the denim, not daring to stroke it, lest I spill a drop anywhere but her pussy. “You came here so fertile for Daddy, didn’t you?”

I press the head of my shaft to her gash, rubbing it up and over her clitoris, my muscles flexing with gratification when she sobs my name. “Daddy.”

A shudder passes through my balls, and they turn to lead, full of painful, molten lust. I know damn well I could come without a single thrust. I could simply let her name pass through my head and my admiration of her would splatter between her spread legs. But she’s here to breed. She made this risky trip to get on her back for me, so I could mate her and that’s now my only reason for breathing. Impregnating her is the mission.

“I can’t play too much or I’ll explode.”

“I know,” she whispers, opening her mouth for my tongue, taking it with the eager mewls of a virgin. “I love…”

“You love what?” I say, tonguing her mouth crudely, the head of my cock nestling into her sopping wet entrance, trying to widen it for that first sacred pump.

Her eyes are half mast, but they’re showing enough of her iris to see the dark sparkle of excitement. “I love those explosions.”

I can’t describe the sound I make. It’s a keen of arousal so steep, I might die of the impact when I come down. Temporarily, I let go of my cock, the weight of it sagging my hips, my fingers finding the slot among her slick flesh and knuckling my middle finger deep, jiggling her roughly, because I don’t have much longer. The enemy is closing in and she needs my sperm. “You come here with this tight cunt and ask for a quickie? I need hours, little girl. You’re barely taking my finger.”

There’s a commanding voice in the back of my head, warning me that I’m going to hurt her, that I’m being too rough with a virgin, but there’s also a hail of gunfire and shouts to take cover. There are plumes of dust and helos passing overhead. We’re in some kind of structure, but that doesn’t mean we’re safe. Nowhere is safe. And nowhere is safe enough for this sweet thing beneath me with her legs spread.

She’s not even safe with me.

I choke on that realization, even as I’m pressing a second finger deep, deep, deep, twisting my two digits in a one-eighty, again and again, while her pussy clenches around my knuckles, her breath catching like the sensation is new…and she likes it.

“You need your first fuck from your Daddy. Say it.”

“I need my first fuck from my Daddy,” she gasps.

I should take it as another, more serious warning when the wordsfuckandDaddyfrom her sweet mouth nearly send me into a frenzy. I rip her nightshirt straight down the middle and spit on her tits. One, two. I spit a third time on her panting mouth, fist my dick and enter her with a grated expletive while she licks my spit up and screams, my mind seeming to expand to an uncomfortable degree, light and color spinning clockwise around me, before narrowing down to her. There’s nothing but her and the perfectly painful squeeze of her pussy, her nails drawing blood on my back and the sound of my snarls as I begin moving in a merciless rut.

The war surrounding me threatens to intrude, but I burrow into the palace in my mind where only she exists and I try to stop it, I try with all my might to keep my pain from rushing toward July, taking out its misery on her, but the pleasure she’s giving me absorbs too much of my focus. The hot stroke of her cunt, her throat, caught mid-swallow in my hand, the velvet softness of her skin against my coarse body, which grinds her down, groaning into her ear, my lower body scooping and slamming into that tiny place I could barely fit my fingers. My balls must be in too much shock to lose the battle with lust, at least not right away and it buys me time to experience the woman beneath me. Her heels digging into the bed, her hips wiggling, wiggling, as if she’s trying to find a comfortable way to receive my girth, the sounds of slapping wetness coming faster, faster, my grunts growing more and more urgent.

I grab the headboard for purchase and hear her hoarse intake of breath.

Was I cutting off her air?

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