Page 4 of Praise Me: Soldier

My words cut off abruptly when she reaches across the table and lays a hand on my forearm, her fingertips finding one of my many scars, tracing it lightly. “I’m sorry, Theo,” she murmurs, wetting her lips. “I’m sorry you had to live like that for so long. You must have been incredibly strong to get through that.”

Maybe.

But I’m not strong right now.

My attention is locked on her hand where it connects with my skin. It has been over four years since anyone has touched me without the intention to do harm. Warmth spreads from the place where our skin connects, rolling downward toward my belly, heating my skin like I’m sitting too close to a fireplace. And I can’t help looking at her tits now, small and high and proud in her modest, white V-neck sweater, those mouthwatering handfuls seeming to grow plumper with every breath.

July’s eyes find mine through the forest of her eyelashes, shy and overwhelmed and I know I should draw my arm away, because my neglected body is poised to ruin this. I’m going to take this encounter too far and she’ll run away, refuse to ever see me again. I don’t want that. Ineedto see her again. As soon as possible.

I need to be in her plans. I need tomakeher plans.

But I don’t draw away. I soak in her delicate touch like she’s the sunset and this is my last day on earth. Shouldn’t I warn her, though?

“July,” I manage, my tone rocky.

“Yes?”

“I haven’t been touched by a woman in a long time,” I say, in desperate need of adjusting myself, the stiff flesh of my cock crammed up behind my fly, seeking space to grow. To be relieved. “I…think you have to stop.”

“Really? I’m only touching your arm.”

“Please,” I pant.

She starts to remove her hand, but her fingertips linger and she’s curious. Too curious for her own good, apparently. “What if I don’t?”

“I’m going to embarrass myself. Please, I…” I lean forward across the table, devouring the nearness of her mouth, the shape of her nose, eyes, chin. “My body has been through so much pain, it forgot what pleasure feels like. But it started to remember as soon as you sat down in that chair.”

“You haven’t…been with a woman in four years? Not even since you came back?”

“Couldn’t even get hard until I saw you, baby. And like I said, we have to stop talking about this or I’m going to…” A wave of lust snares my loins and my hips jerk, a moan trapped in my throat. Jesus, my cock is straining against my zipper, my spend dribbling out everywhere, ready to pop. “I’m going to bust if you don’t stop touching me, July. Hell, if you keeplookingat me like that, it’s going to happen.”

“How am I looking at you?” she breathes.

“You’re curious.” Despite the agony in my jeans, I scrutinize her face for clues as to how she’s reacting. How she’s feeling. “You’re curious because it would be the first time you’ve watched a man get off, huh?”

“Yes,” she says, her voice low, thready. “I-I didn’t know I could have this effect on someone.”

“You’re having it on me.” I pound a fist on the table, making the sugar container bounce. “Going to bring me off with nothing but that pretty face, aren’t you, baby?”

That’s when she moans.

It’s only the smallest, briefest sound but it’s like a cannon boom in my head.

It’s the final straw.

My cock swells and lengthens that final degree—and in such swift fashion, I have to snatch up a cloth napkin in my fist and press it to my mouth, my willpower demanding my body cool off, to stop whatever is happening due to her scent, her coy but rapt body language, the fucking way she’s looking at me.STOP. But—

I ejaculate in my jeans.

My balls spasm, cock rippling with the flood of semen. Four years’ worth of pressure leaves me in a blistering liquid rush, filling my briefs, soaking into the cotton, while I grit curses into the napkin, straining my vocal cords in an attempt to stay quiet. My stomach screams in agony over what it’s been holding in and the sudden, dramatic loss of tension, my thighs shake in the seat. I see heaven and hell on the backs on my eyelids, and in between it all, there’s her. July. Looking up at me in that excitedly nervous way.

And it’s a good thing her image is seared into my mind, along with her name, because when I open my eyes, she’s gone. I’m staring back at an empty seat, the outline of her perfect face still lingering in the vacant air.

My obsession with finding her begins here…my mission sharp and clear.

Urgent.

Only, this mission won’t end with me getting locked down.

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