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Authors: Kate Canterbary
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demanded that I wrap myself around her immediately. Hold her and kiss her and fall asleep with her, even if it was only for this strange, unexpected weekend. I wanted it more than I could remember wanting anything else.
Her fingernails cruised over the backs of my thighs, stroking just enough to bring me back down to earth. With my chest heaving like I’d just finished a marathon in full combat gear, I traced her swollen lips with my thumb. “Oh, baby—”
“I’m not your baby ,” she interrupted. “Let go of my hair.”
What the fuck just happened here?
I opened my fist and the strands fell free, and that quickly, the moment was lost. We were back to being the people who only enjoyed arguing with each other, and those people didn’t snuggle after emotionally exhausting blowjobs.
Shannon popped to her feet and darted into the bathroom. I flopped on the bed, too fried from that orgasm to do more than exist, and listened while she brushed her teeth. Swallowing was a bonus I hadn’t expected—again, my preconceived notions about Shannon pointed to her squealing in horror at all bodily fluids—but I couldn’t decide how I felt about her erasing the evidence of it now.
I wouldn’t be able to kiss her and taste myself on her tongue, and I wanted that.
Shit . I needed to stop going on three-year deployments if I wanted to keep what was left of my sanity. Pet names? Cuddling? Post-head kissing? What the fuck was wrong with me?
“How do you not recognize the cues to leave?”
I leaned up on an elbow and found Shannon in a short blue bathrobe, one that was too thin and silky to hide the outline of her nipples. The makeup was scrubbed from her face and her eyes seemed impossibly large and bright against a riot of freckles. Her hair was up in a messy bun and her arms crossed over her chest, and my cock was more than a little interested in getting under that robe.
“Why can’t you chill the fuck out?” I asked, patting the mattress beside me. How could she not understand that I needed to touch her right now? How could she do that to me and then think I’d be able to leave? “Stop bitching about everything. Get over here and let me eat your cunt.”
Her eyes snapped shut and she jolted backward as if I’d slapped her. “Do not use that word.”
“You’re okay with ‘good little cocksucker’ but you draw the line at ‘cunt’?” I scratched my head, frowning, and gestured to the bed again. I was ready to beg for her skin against mine. “What if I do really nice things to your cunt?”
Shannon unfolded one arm and pointed to the door, and when she spoke, her voice was more precise and final than some orders of execution I’d heard from terrorist kingpins over the years. “Get the fuck out.”
The answer to the original question was yes . Yes, we were drawing the line at cunt.
“Hey, shh, it’s okay,” I said. I lumbered off the bed and dropped my hands on her shoulders. “Calm down. Shh. No reason to lose your shit, Irish Spring. It’s all good. Now get on the bed with me.”
She finally glanced up, and God, there was an entire fucking universe in her eyes. All the defiance I’d come to expect from her plus pain and fear, staring back at me. There was so much there, so much more than what she stowed just beneath the surface.
“What’s the point? You’ve already destroyed it,” she said, a laugh softening the edge of her voice.
“The point is I want to be inside you again,” I said. My inclination was to push her buttons, but instinct told me to do whatever the fuck this girl wanted, and do it now. “And while I can fuck you against the wall, I’d like to take advantage of beds while they’re available to me.”
Shannon hesitated, and I seized that opportunity to scoop her up and throw her on the mattress. She hated being manhandled in the sense that she hated liking it, and it had the side benefit of breaking the tension building between us.
“You are such an arrogant
Her fingernails cruised over the backs of my thighs, stroking just enough to bring me back down to earth. With my chest heaving like I’d just finished a marathon in full combat gear, I traced her swollen lips with my thumb. “Oh, baby—”
“I’m not your baby ,” she interrupted. “Let go of my hair.”
What the fuck just happened here?
I opened my fist and the strands fell free, and that quickly, the moment was lost. We were back to being the people who only enjoyed arguing with each other, and those people didn’t snuggle after emotionally exhausting blowjobs.
Shannon popped to her feet and darted into the bathroom. I flopped on the bed, too fried from that orgasm to do more than exist, and listened while she brushed her teeth. Swallowing was a bonus I hadn’t expected—again, my preconceived notions about Shannon pointed to her squealing in horror at all bodily fluids—but I couldn’t decide how I felt about her erasing the evidence of it now.
I wouldn’t be able to kiss her and taste myself on her tongue, and I wanted that.
Shit . I needed to stop going on three-year deployments if I wanted to keep what was left of my sanity. Pet names? Cuddling? Post-head kissing? What the fuck was wrong with me?
“How do you not recognize the cues to leave?”
I leaned up on an elbow and found Shannon in a short blue bathrobe, one that was too thin and silky to hide the outline of her nipples. The makeup was scrubbed from her face and her eyes seemed impossibly large and bright against a riot of freckles. Her hair was up in a messy bun and her arms crossed over her chest, and my cock was more than a little interested in getting under that robe.
“Why can’t you chill the fuck out?” I asked, patting the mattress beside me. How could she not understand that I needed to touch her right now? How could she do that to me and then think I’d be able to leave? “Stop bitching about everything. Get over here and let me eat your cunt.”
Her eyes snapped shut and she jolted backward as if I’d slapped her. “Do not use that word.”
“You’re okay with ‘good little cocksucker’ but you draw the line at ‘cunt’?” I scratched my head, frowning, and gestured to the bed again. I was ready to beg for her skin against mine. “What if I do really nice things to your cunt?”
Shannon unfolded one arm and pointed to the door, and when she spoke, her voice was more precise and final than some orders of execution I’d heard from terrorist kingpins over the years. “Get the fuck out.”
The answer to the original question was yes . Yes, we were drawing the line at cunt.
“Hey, shh, it’s okay,” I said. I lumbered off the bed and dropped my hands on her shoulders. “Calm down. Shh. No reason to lose your shit, Irish Spring. It’s all good. Now get on the bed with me.”
She finally glanced up, and God, there was an entire fucking universe in her eyes. All the defiance I’d come to expect from her plus pain and fear, staring back at me. There was so much there, so much more than what she stowed just beneath the surface.
“What’s the point? You’ve already destroyed it,” she said, a laugh softening the edge of her voice.
“The point is I want to be inside you again,” I said. My inclination was to push her buttons, but instinct told me to do whatever the fuck this girl wanted, and do it now. “And while I can fuck you against the wall, I’d like to take advantage of beds while they’re available to me.”
Shannon hesitated, and I seized that opportunity to scoop her up and throw her on the mattress. She hated being manhandled in the sense that she hated liking it, and it had the side benefit of breaking the tension building between us.
“You are such an arrogant
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