“As much as I want to get you naked, you need to dry out your clothes or you’re going to have problems with your skin.” I sigh. “At least take off your boots and socks. You need to be able to walk. Yeah?”
She nods and takes off her boots and socks. “Where can I hang them?”
“There are some nails in the wall just above head height.” I’ve already worked some free. I’ve gone through everything in here, which isn’t much, to find something useful. So far, all I have are a few rags, some nails, and an empty box of matches that may or may not be dry enough to be of any use.
She hangs up her socks.
“You really should take your pants off. You’ll thank me later.”
“You need to work on your pickup lines, because that was shit.”
“If I was trying to pick you up, you’d know about it.” As she strips off her wet pants, and I have a front-row seat to the curve of her thigh and ass, I would like very much to fuck her. Especially if it’s the last nice thing I’ll get to do—killing some of the assholes who caught us will be satisfying, but not nice.
She glances at me. “Is that right?”
“Yeah, it is.” And I can’t think of a single line. My brain has turned to mud, churned up by the threat of death.
The roof rattles as the rain gets heavier, and I expect it to leak, or come off.
For a moment, there is a tension between us like the static before a storm. I lick my lip, remembering the cut too late. “Why don’t you take off your panties so they can dry while I make you wet?”
She’s staring, even though I can’t see the details of her expression. “I haven’t showered since yesterday.”
“I don’t care.” I almost make a bad joke about last meals, but I doubt she’d find it funny. Hargrave would. Colton would tell me off for being negative. “I want to taste you. Have some fun.”
Before you escape and I wear the consequences.
“Colton won’t be pissed that you cheated?” Her fingers are already tracing the edge of her panties as though she is thinking about taking them off.
“That’s sweet that you’re thinking of him. I’m sure he’d love to be here with us.” But I’m glad he’s not because then they’d kill us both.
“I…er…are you okay enough for this?”
“Are you? This is fucked up, but I’m all for stealing pleasure wherever and whenever possible.” My dick is in agreement and rising to the occasion. I haven’t lost that much blood.
She nods and shoves her panties down.
That was far easier than I expected and, for a moment, I wonder if I’ve passed out or something. If I have, I’m happy to ride this one out until the end.
“Step over my legs.” I’m okay to fuck, as long as I don’t have to move much.
She does, so she is standing over me. “This feels a little wrong.”
“Why’s that?” I trace my fingers up her leg. She hasn’t shaved them in a while, which only adds to the feral desperation of the situation. I need her. I need to pretend for a few minutes that none of this exists and that everything will be okay.
“Because. We shouldn’t be thinking about this.”
I cup her ass cheeks and bring her forward. I need to taste her. My tongue traces the crease of her thigh, and she gasps. But she doesn’t move away.
“It’s a normal reaction.” The first time I felt it was after an intense firefight. We made it back to base and I don’t know if was because we’d survived or what. But that was when I found out that a fuck was a fuck, and I wasn’t going to spend the rest of the deployment living like a monk. “It’s a distraction. Endorphins. Bonding.”
I punctuate my words with more licks before finally teasing her clit. I give it a little suck as I learn what she likes, and what she needs so she can come. She squirms and rocks her hips as though eager for more. With my hands bound, it limits what I can do, but I’m creative. My thumbs slide over her folds and into her slick core.
Fuck, she really does want this. This isn’t a pity fuck to make up for my bad day. My dick hardens further, as if to prove how okay I am. I hadn’t expected that much enthusiasm from my body, but I’m not about to waste it either.
My tongue dips into her, her sweetness filling my mouth. I want to groan, but I hold back. I’d gotten so used to the saltier taste of a man that I’d forgotten the sweetness of a woman.
Her fingers thread through my hair, and her muscles tense as she comes with the smallest of moans. I want to hear her screaming my name. If we were anywhere else…well, she wouldn’t have taken her panties off for me.
