"Say yes again," she demands softly, her mouth moving to my neck, teeth grazing the pulse point. "Say yes to letting me have all of you."
"Yes," I growl, the word torn from somewhere deep, somewhere I've kept locked for seven years. "Fuck, yes."
16 - Marisol
When he says “yes,” I feel the word vibrate through my whole body. Not just the sound but the surrender underneath it, the crumbling of walls he’s maintained for years. His tears are still damp on my fingers from holding his face while he broke apart, confessing about Afghanistan, about the mother and child he couldn’t save.
I shift in his lap, straddling him properly now, my thighs bracketing his hips. The silk of my sleep shorts rides up, and I can feel him beneath me through his sweatpants. Already hard, his cock pressing against my pussy through the thin barriers. The friction makes me gasp, my clit throbbing with sudden, violent need.
His eyes are red-rimmed, raw, stripped of every defense. I've seen him throw men into rocks, fuck me mechanically, lock himself in bathrooms to come alone. But this broken, open version of him is the most beautiful thing I've ever witnessed.
"Look at me," I whisper, cupping his face with trembling hands.
He does look, and I see everything. The soldier who followed orders, the man who hates himself for it, the monster he believes himself to be. Behind it all, I see the boy who lost his father and tried to turn his sister into a weapon to protect her.
"I see you," I tell him, my voice catching. "All of you. The parts you show the world and the parts you hide." I rock against him, slow and deliberate, grinding my pussy against hishardening cock. The silk of my shorts is already damp. "And I want every piece."
His hands find my waist, grip tightening until I know I'll have bruises tomorrow. Good. I want his marks on me. Want to press on them later and remember this moment.
"Marisol."
"No." I kiss him, hard and hungry, my tongue invading his mouth, tasting salt from his tears. When I pull back, we're both panting. "No more walls." Another kiss, deeper, wetter, my teeth catching his lower lip. "I don't want the controlled version. I don't want tactical precision."
"What do you want?" His voice is wrecked, barely recognizable.
"Everything you've been locking away." I grind down harder and we both groan. My pussy clenches around nothing. "Remember on the boat? When I grabbed your cock through your pants?"
His hands tighten on my waist, fingers digging into my flesh. "Fuck, Marisol."
"You were so hard. Even then, rejecting me, you wanted me." I rock against him again, feeling his cock twitch beneath me, fully hard, straining against his sweatpants. "I could feel how thick you were. How badly you wanted to fuck me."
"I wanted to bend you over the side of that boat," he admits, voice rough. "Wanted to rip those sequins off you and fuck you until you screamed."
Heat floods through me, my nipples hardening against the thin fabric of my tank top. "Why didn't you?"
"Because you were drunk. Because I'm supposed to protect you, not…"
"Not what? Not want me?" I lean in, lips brushing his ear. "Your cock is pressing against my pussy right now, Nico. I can feel how much you want me. How hard you are. Stop fighting it."
His hands shake against my skin. Actually shake, this controlled soldier trembling. "You don't understand," he says roughly. "When I lose control, I'm not gentle. The things I want to do to you."
"Tell me." I pull back to study his face, still grinding against him, the friction making my clit throb. "Tell me exactly what you want to do to me."
His eyes go black, pupils blown wide with lust. "I want to pin you down and fuck you until you can't walk. Want to mark every inch of your skin so everyone knows you're mine. Want to make you take my cock until you're sobbing, begging, completely ruined for anyone else."
My pussy clenches hard, a fresh wave of wetness soaking my shorts. "Then do it."
"You don't know what you're asking."
"I'm asking you to stop holding back." I grab his hands, guide them under my tank top to my bare breasts. His palms are rough, callused from all those pull-ups, and when they close over my tits, I moan. "Fuck me like you mean it. Like you've been wanting to since day one."
Something shifts in his eyes. The last wall crumbling. The monster he's so afraid of surfaces, and God, it's beautiful.
In one fluid motion he flips us. My back hits the mattress, his weight pinning me down, and I've never felt anything better than being trapped beneath him.
"Marisol Rosetti," he growls against my throat, and the words make my pussy clench. His mouth attacks my neck, sucking hard, teeth scraping. "Say it. Tell me you're my woman. Just for tonight."
"I'm yours," I gasp as he bites down, marking me. "Your Rosetti wife, Nico."
