Page 6 of Flint

I’m about to suggest putting on some TV. I want her so badly my entire body aches, but I’m not going to rush this either. We’ll have decades to be together, and I’ll wait for her as long as it takes. I can’t have her regretting our first time…or any other time for that matter.

Sadness flickers across her features. “My ex never would have thought to do something like this. He always said I was too fat.”

My hands go to her hips, pulling her close. I can't help it. It's instinct, the same instincts that kept me alive during my tour overseas, the same instincts that told me to rally when the doctor said I may not make it through the next surgery.

I’ve always trusted my instincts, and maybe that's what I need to do here and now. Trust that my heart and body know exactly what she needs and how to provide it for her. “I don't know his name, but I can already tell you that he was an idiot for letting someone so amazing go.”

She looks up at me then, lips slightly parted, so I kiss her. I sweep my tongue into her mouth, angling to get as close to her as I can. She tastes like the first day of summer and soulmates that spend fifty years together on the front porch.

Her arms go around me, her pillowy breasts pushing against my chest. Fuck, they feel nice, soft and lush. She pushes me, and I step back willingly, unable to pull my mouth from hers. My back hits the door. I give a little grunt, liking the pain, and grind myself against her.

She breaks our kiss long enough to murmur, “I want to be in charge tonight.”

Fuck if those words don’t send even more blood straight to my cock. There's something about this woman. I love the idea of her bossing me around for the next few decades of my life. “Whatever you need.”

She takes two steps away from me and reaches behind herself, tugging on the zipper of her dress.

I watch her shimmy out of the top, fascinated by the way her breasts jiggle in her lacy white bra. My mouth is watering as I imagine what it will be like to suck on her tits. I squeeze my cock through my pants and send up a prayer that I don’t get this wrong and embarrass myself on our first time together.

She gets the dress stuck on her hips. I want so badly to lean forward and tug it free, but I don't. She said she wanted to be in charge, and if that’s what she needs, then I’ll play by her rules.

When she's finally standing there in nothing more than a matching bra and panties set, she gives me a grin that promises mischief tonight. “Clothes off. Show me the goods.”

I don't waste time yanking off my clothes. The silvery scar is there, stretching from my breastbone down to my stomach. The midline incision was done to find the source of the internal bleeding in the middle of a combat zone. It’s proof that I lived.

When I'm naked in front of her, I wait for her to ask about it, but she doesn’t. Her gaze flicks over it then onto my cock who is pointed angrily at her, already dripping seed. I lift my eyebrows, silently asking what she wants me to do next.

“On the bed. On your back. I'm gonna ride you, cowboy,” she says.

I chuckle, amused by her words and more than a little turned on by the look in her eyes. I grab a handful of condoms from the box, tossing a few carelessly on the bed and some on the nightstand. I settle on the mattress, one arm tucked behind my head and wait.

She struts to me, body jiggling in ways that make me even hornier. I want to bury my hands in her hips, touch all of those stretch marks and feel her body in motion against mine. I remind myself to be patient as she joins me, putting a knee on either side of my chest. She's hovering, staring down at me.

She reaches for my hair, her hand tangling in my wavy strands. I didn’t think just having someone touch my head could be erotic, but somehow, this is. It’s because it’s her, my beautiful Ronnie.

“This is okay?” She asks. Her lace-encased tits are right in my face, and it’s everything I can do not to latch onto one. Does she know she’s every fantasy I’ve ever had all rolled into one beautiful, curvy package?

“It's perfect,” I grunt out, pretty sure I no longer have blood above the equator.

She kisses me, fusing our lips together. It’s everything I can do to let this be her show. What I want more than anything is to grab her and roll her underneath me. I want to pin her curvy body to the mattress and rut into her.

But there's more than just me to consider. I think about the look on her face when she was staring at the candy bar. She hasn't been well loved, and fuck it, I am the man that is always going to put her first, even if it means I die of blue balls as she slowly kisses me.

She kisses her way down my body, even kissing the scar. It shouldn’t make my heart clench that she treats it with so much reverence, but it does. She’s offering me back the acceptance I so freely gave her, making me think she finds me just as beautiful as I find her.

The entire time her lips are moving down my chest, she’s grinding against my hard cock. The only barrier between us is her thin little panties. I can feel her soaking through them.

I grip the material of the bed cover, bunching it in my fists. My breath is shallow pants, my words punctuated with need. “I’m. Damn. Close.”

“Then come for me,” she whispers and bites my earlobe.

It’s the only encouragement I need, and before I know it, I’m spraying a sticky mess between us. She keeps grinding on me until I’m heaving and exhausted in the best way.

She collapses on my chest, breathing hard. She lets out a soft sigh. “I'm not done with you yet, cowboy.”

I put a hand on her back, loving the way it feels to be so connected with her. Endorphins are flowing, and I feel higher than that time the nurse in the hospital accidentally doubled my pain medication. “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

I don’t know how long we lie together. Maybe it's minutes, or maybe it's hours. All I know is that at some point I dozed off with her weight on top of me. When I wake again, it’s to her pressing kisses against my chest.