"So hard," she murmurs, stroking me slowly, her thumb spreading the precum around the head. "How long have you been like this?"
"Since I woke up," I admit, my hips bucking into her grip. "Since I felt how wet you were against my thigh while you slept."
She guides me to her entrance, rubbing the head of my cock through her wetness, coating me in her arousal. "Then we should probably do something about that."
I push inside her slowly. So slowly it's torture. Every inch is a revelation, her pussy gripping me perfectly, still swollen from last night but so wet, so ready. We both moan when I'm fully seated, my balls pressed against her ass.
"Fuck," I breathe, having to stay still or I'll come immediately. "You feel…"
"I know," she says, wrapping her legs around me. "You too."
I start to move. Not thrusting but rolling my hips, grinding deep, making sure I hit every sensitive spot inside her. It's completely different from last night's desperate claiming. This is something else. Something that makes my chest tight with emotion.
"Look at me," she says softly.
I realize I've closed my eyes, overwhelmed by the sensation. I force them open, meet her gaze, and the vulnerability of it nearlyundoes me. She sees everything. Every wall crumbling, every defense falling, the terrifying truth that I'm completely fucked because I'm falling for her.
"There you are," she whispers, hands coming up to frame my face. "My beautiful, broken soldier."
The tenderness breaks something in me. I lean down to kiss her, deep and slow, matching the rhythm of my hips. Her pussy clenches with each stroke, getting wetter, our combined arousal making slick sounds with each movement.
The monster rattles its cage, wanting to go harder, faster, to claim and possess. My hand actually moves toward her throat before I catch myself, gripping the sheets instead.
"You're shaking," she observes, running her hands down my sides.
"I don't know how to be gentle," I admit, my whole body trembling with restraint. "I don't know how to do this without…"
"Without losing control?"
"Without breaking things. Breaking you."
She pulls me down for another kiss. "You won't break me. I'm stronger than I look. And maybe… maybe I want to see you choose gentleness. Choose to stay present with me."
The permission to be soft is somehow harder than permission to be rough. But I maintain the slow rhythm, reaching between us to circle her clit with my thumb, watching her face as she climbs toward another orgasm.
"I'm close," she gasps, her pussy starting to flutter around me. "Are you?"
"Yeah," I groan, feeling the pressure building at the base of my spine, my balls drawing tight.
I increase the pressure on her clit slightly, feeling her whole body start to tense. We're watching each other, seeing everything, hiding nothing.
"Now," she whispers. "Come with me now."
Her orgasm triggers mine. She arches beneath me, crying out, her pussy clamping down on my cock in rhythmic waves. The sensation pulls my release from me. My cock throbs as I empty myself inside her, pump after pump of hot cum, all while maintaining eye contact. It's the most vulnerable I've ever been, letting her see me completely undone.
She pulls me down for a kiss that's all softness and acceptance.
We stay connected, neither willing to separate. I can feel our combined wetness starting to leak out around my softening cock, marking her thighs. The physical evidence of what we've become to each other.
I bury my face in her neck, overwhelmed. The soldier in me is screaming about compromised positions, emotional vulnerability, the danger of caring this much. But the man, the one she's teaching to exist, just holds her closer.
"I… like you," she murmurs.
"Even though I'm a tactical banana who counts everything and can't make normal coffee?"
She laughs, the sound vibrating through both our bodies. "Especially because of that."
Outside, Miami wakes. Traffic building, heat already shimmering off pavement, the city oblivious to the fact that everything just changed in this bedroom.
