Mending Hearts (The American Soldier Collection 11)

She screamed his name and exploded around his shaft. But he kept going, thrusting, stroking, rocking against her, filling her to her womb and claiming her in an almost animalistic manner. She loved it. It made her feel wild, and she counter-rocked her hips against his.

“Mine. You’re fucking mine.” He yelled so loudly and deeply that she gasped as he came, filling her with his seed.

“God, you’re going to be my everything, sweetness. My everything,” he confessed as he hugged her tightly and held himself within her as they both calmed their breathing and relished the aftermath of their loving encounter.

* * * *

Gabe was pacing the room and running his fingers through his hair. He could hear them moaning and Gator raising his voice and fucking Alana in the shower. His own dick was so rock solid hard right now that he wasn’t sure he could move, never mind make love to Alana.

And how was he going to balance his weight on his knees as he made love to her when his legs were weak? He could barely hold his own body weight and needed the fucking cane.

“Fuck,” he said under his breath. He felt the hand on his shoulder and turned to see Jeb there.

“We’re not going to leave your side. We’ll help you.”

“I can’t do this. I won’t even be able to hold myself up and make love to her like a real man should.”

“Bullshit. Stop fucking focusing on your injuries and focus on what Alana does to you. Focus on how it feels to kiss her, touch her, and hold her in your arms. Just take your time,” Geno added.

“We can leave if it makes it easier,” Jaxon suggested.

Gabe shook his head.

It was so hard to admit his weaknesses, and his fears, but these were his brothers. The

y were the reasons why he’d lived these last three years. They’d taken care of him and made sure that he healed once he was released from the military hospital in Germany. They were his support network, and they all had just made love to his woman, to Alana. It was only right to have them here so, if he failed, they could take over and satisfy her needs and desires.

“If I fail. If I can’t satisfy her, help me,” he whispered, holding Jaxon’s gaze. He could see the emotions in all their eyes.

“You won’t need us. Alana is special in many ways. You’ll find the will, the need to become one with her. You won’t need us. Just remember the bond you already share. That’s a bond you’ve allowed us all to be part of, and it’s fucking powerful.” Jaxon moved toward one of the big single chairs and took a seat.

Geno and Jeb walked over to two other chairs and sat while Gabe pulled off his shirt.

His fingers shook as he thought about his scars and the deep gash of missing flesh. He realized that he didn’t want to be ugly to her. He wanted her to find him handsome and capable, her knight in shining armor. Well, maybe a bit tarnished and banged up, but still capable.

The moment he felt the hand on his shoulder, he froze in place.

Alana.

She gently ran the palms of her hands along his back then pressed her lips to his skin, even over the scars of battle wounds. He was tense, uptight, filled with anxiety about pleasing her and making love to her after all this time when she shocked him. She wrapped her arms around him from behind and hugged him.

“I love you, Gabe.”

He swallowed hard, turned around, and pulled her against his chest. He held her tight and ran his hands along her body and pushed the towel covering her away from her flesh.

He cupped her cheeks, leaned down on shaky legs, and kissed her deeply. She gave so freely, his angel, his goddess, his woman.

She ran her hands along his waist and up his chest, and he shivered from the deep sensations that filled him. He pulled from her lips and held her gaze. Alana’s green eyes sparkled with unshed tears, and she smiled.

“Make love to me, Gabe. Claim me like your team has so we can be one.”

Her statement, her understanding and description of this joining, enlightened him and brought a surge of desire and determination to his soul.

“I plan on it, baby. Be patient with me. I’m weak,” he said, and she shook her head.

“You’re not weak. You’re strong, you’re a survivor, and you’re a Marine. My Marine. Let me in. I’ll help you, just open up.”

She slid down his chest, licking and kissing his skin as her palms worked over his belly muscles and then began to undo his belt and dress pants. He held his breath when she pushed them down, revealing his scars, his battered, destroyed flesh, and she didn’t shudder or gasp. No, she did the unexpected, the most courageous, loving thing a woman, his woman, could do. She kissed his wounds. She hugged his legs and lay her cheek over his damaged, missing flesh and showed him just how big her heart really was.