Page 17 of Big Bodyguard
I help her step into the tub, lowering her into the warm water. She sighs, head tipping back against the rim, but when her eyes flutter open again, they’re filled with heat, and trust. And tears.
I kneel beside the tub, wetting a washcloth and running it over her arms, her chest, the soft curves of her body. I keep my touch gentle, worshipful, but my cock strains painfully as I watch her arch into my hands.
“Jack…” she breathes, and that single sound wrecks me.
I drop the washcloth and reach out to cup her breasts, teasing her petal-soft nipples into tight buds. She gasps, then throws her head back with a soft moan.
“God, you’re so beautiful,” I whisper, running the pad of my thumb over one hardened bud.
I cup both breasts, then slightly flick the nipples with my fingers. She shivers, murmuring my name under her breath. I duck down, flicking my tongue over each puckered nipple, then close my mouth over her right nipple, suckling slowly.
Her body buckles, a whining sound escaping her lips. “Yes, Daddy,” she moans, arching her back, offering herself to me.
I tug on her nipple with my lips, fueled by her little throaty moans and my own desperate hunger. I flick it with my tongue and suckle while cupping her other breast with my free hand, my thumb tracing circles on the sensitive underside. Then I shift my mouth to her other nipple, grazing her with the edge of my teeth, then sucking hard.
“Oh, please! Daddy, please!” she screams, squirming against me.
I raise my head, flicking a nipple with my tongue, teasing her. “Please what, princess?
“I—I don’t know…I need you.”
I chuckle at the hint of frustration in her voice, then I return my attention to her breasts, sucking on a nipple as I smooth a hand down her body, over her stomach, and lower. She buries her fingers in my hair as I spread her thighs, sliding my hand between her legs, a finger easily entering her slick entrance.
Her gasp echoes off the tiled walls as my thumb slides against her clitoris, slow and thorough. I hold her down as she writhes, my name falling from her lips in broken whimpers, her body trembling as I fuck her with first one finger, then two.
She comes apart fast, shattering in the water, her thighs squeezing my hand, her cry sharp and raw. I don’t stop until she’s limp, boneless, her chest heaving with every ragged breath.
Then I rise, shedding my own clothes in seconds, climbing into the tub with her. She curls instinctively into my lap, her wet body sliding against mine, and I groan at the feel of her slick heat against my cock.
I lift her, guiding her down onto me slowly, carefully. Her walls stretch around me, tight and perfect, and I grit my teeth, fighting for control.
She clings to me, her arms around my neck, her lips pressing desperate kisses to my jaw. “Jack…”
“I’ve got you, princess,” I rasp, moving inside her with slow, tender thrusts. “Daddy’s right here.”
The water laps over the sides as we move together, her soft cries mingling with my groans. This isn’t about possession or staking a claim—it’s about her. About giving her every ounce of the tenderness that she needs, that we both need, to navigate what’s to come.
Her lips find mine again, and I kiss her slow and deep, forgetting the world outside for a moment. Forgetting what was and what is to be. Right here, right now, it’s just her and me. Us.
And as she shudders around me, climaxing again with a soft, broken whimper, I know it’s going to be fucking hard to let go.
Chapter Seven
Charlie
The water has gone lukewarm by the time Jack finally stills inside me, holding me tight against his chest. I don’t want to move. I don’t want this moment to end. If I could freeze time, I would stay right here. In his arms, wrapped in his strength, cocooned in this tiny cabin where the world can’t find me.
But the shrill buzz of his phone breaks the spell.
Jack mutters a curse, resting his forehead briefly against mine before lifting me gently from the water. He wraps me in a towel, tucking it snugly around me, then grabs his jeans off the floor and fishes out the phone.
His expression hardens instantly.
“Steele,” he answers, his tone clipped, all business. The contrast between the man who just kissed every inch of me and the soldier barking into a phone is so sharp it makes me ache.
I can’t make out all of what’s being said, but the urgency in his voice is clear. His brows pull together, his jaw ticking. Finally, he exhales through his nose and says, “I’ll handle it.”
He slips the phone back into his pocket, eyes finding mine. “I’ve got to take this,” he says gruffly. “Home office. Won’t be long.”
