Holly
Chance devoursme with greedy eyes as we tear away what little clothing we have left. His gaze burns into my skin for precisely three seconds as I stand before him in only my thigh-high socks and glasses.
That’s all it takes—he’s on me, his mouth slanting hot and desperate over mine, fingers tangling in my hair like he’s afraid to let go. His body presses into me, swallowing me whole, and all I can do is hold on for dear life.
Muscles roll and flex under my hands as he marches me backward, step by deliberate step until my knees hit the edge of the bed.
A low, dark groan rumbles from his chest, vibrating into my mouth when my nails scrape lightly over his skin, teasing him just enough to feel his restraint fray.
He doesn’t just crawl over me—he stalks me like prey, deliberate and unrelenting, until he’s exactly where he belongs, nestled between my splayed legs. His hand clamps onto my hips,strong and possessive, dragging me up onto his thighs like he can’t stand even a sliver of space between us.
Looming over me, his shadow stealing my breath, and all I can do is marvel at him. I barely register the sound of him tearing open a condom. By the time I realize he protected us both, he’s already reaching for the hammer hooked over the headboard, claiming it like a vow.
Soldier boy is bringing the hammer from now on, because this?
This is the single hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
His forearm flexes as he adjusts his grip—his body taut with restrained power—the head of his cock brushing my entrance, teasing me with every deliberate move.
I look up at him, my heart pounding so hard it feels like it might crack my ribs. For all his intensity, it’s the tenderness in his eyes that steals my breath—the unspoken promise that this moment isn’t just about his pleasure but about us.
“Ready, baby?” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, the rasp sending shivers straight down my spine. His thumb drags over my bottom lip, slow and deliberate, a tease and a question all in one.
“Do your worst, soldier boy.” My teeth sink into the pad of his thumb, and his pupils blow wide, raw hunger flashing through his gaze so fiercely it steals the air from my lungs.
His hips surge forward, his cock driving into me with one hard, definitive thrust.
Pleasure teeters on the edge of pain, the explosion deep and all-consuming. Thick and heavy, he forces me to accommodate every inch, aiming a week’s worth of frustration and unspent restraint at me in a punishment so hot it sends me reeling.
My gasps come wild and ragged, every punishing thrust delivering that perfect, mind-shattering stretch and fullness.
There’s no room to adjust, no reprieve. He withdraws almost completely, only to slam back into me, the hammer a taut anchor in his grip. His rhythm–a rolling plunge and drag, retreating just enough to pull me apart all over again. My hands fly to his shoulders, nails biting into his skin as he takes more—takes everything—with ruthless, possessive strokes.
Closer.
I need to be closer.
All the places he loves to claim on me—behind my ear, along my throat, the ridge of my shoulders—they call to me now, begging to be marked in return.
Hooking my hands behind his neck, I climb, meeting him chest to chest, my breasts pressed to his rock-hard frame. Every brush of my nipples against the dusting of hair on his skin sends sharp jolts of heat straight through me.
But it’s not enough.
When he tightens his arm around me, pulling me closer with a low, primal growl, it still isn’t enough.
My hand snakes through his hair, fingers twisting as I tug his head back and lean in, grazing the sensitive spot just behind his ear. He jerks, his arm squeezing tight, a shudder ripping through him and into me.
Oh—oh. I—wow.
My tongue trails along the column of his throat, over the bob of his Adam’s apple, licking my way to the underside of his jaw. His jagged groan vibrates against my lips, spurring me on.
His thrusts grow more erratic, each one hitting harder, rougher. The power of driving him to this point, of unraveling him completely, only makes me want to push him further over the edge.
Clinging to him, the salt of his skin still heavy on my tongue, I sink my teeth into the ridge of his shoulder, desperate to anchor myself.
He jerks, a ragged groan ripping from his chest as his hips slam into me harder, wilder.
“Fuck, Holly,” he snarls, his hand digging into my hip. His movements turn erratic, each thrust harder than the last, leaving me gasping and clawing at his back.
