Willing Captive

His mouth parts, he pushes further, all the way in. My ass touches his scarred belly and he utters quietly, “Forgot.” He swallows hard. “Forgot how good you feel.” Shaking his head, he clarifies, “No. I didn’t. But sometimes I thought, maybe I just built it up in my mind. How good you feel.”

Pulling back, he pushes back in slowly and says, “But I didn’t. You’re perfect. Fuckin’ perfect.”

My hips buck, sliding him deeper into me and he hisses. “Can’t go slow, baby. Not this time.”

I mutter, “I don’t want slow. I want you to show me how much you missed me.”

His icy-blues cut through me, and my heart races. Gritting his teeth, he splays his hands on my hips, grips tight, and thrusts deep. Lowering my head a moment with a gasp, I hear, “Eyes. Or I stop.”

Whimpering, I lift my head, and our eyes lock once more. He drives into me at a steady pace.

My pussy already throbbing, I whisper, “Come in me.”

His eyes widen before he grasps my hips tighter in his hold, and thrusts hard and fast. My belly clenches. My nipples stiffen. I grip the edge of the sink as my core begins to tighten.

I moan softly and open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.

My hips jerk, and my eyes close. He asks hoarsely, “You gonna come on my cock, baby?”

Dirty, dirty words. I love them.

Who knew?

Just then, I open my mouth and moan a little too loudly. Reaching up, he covers my mouth with his hand, and I bite down on his finger. Without warning, my spine tingles and I contract around him, once. His arm wraps around my waist, pulling me deeper into his thrusts, and my eyes almost roll back into my head.

Rainbow-colored spots dance in my vision, and my stomach clenches tight.

His thrusts become frenzied, and he groans softly, “Gonna come in your pussy, babe.”

Thrusting like a mad man, my pussy clenches around him and I gasp. The contractions start.

With every wave of my orgasm, I keep my eyes on his. He watches me come, then suddenly grits his teeth. Holding me firmly, he thrusts once more, stills, then whispers, “Fuck yeah.”

His face becomes pained as he breathes heavily. And I feel his release. He throbs and jerks deep inside of me. The wet warmth feels so good that it causes me to contract again. And again.

Ecstasy.

Nothing could compare to what I’m feeling right now.

Whatever was halting our connection in the past two weeks has suddenly vanished.

Both breathing heavily, and still holding each other’s gaze through the mirror, I smile sweetly at him.

And he does something gorgeous. Something I missed.

He smirks.

Oh yeah.

My man is back.

***

Two weeks later…

“Nox, honey, you need to get dressed. We’re going to be late. And we can’t be late!”

Sounding flustered, he just about barks back, “Working on it, babe. It’s just-” He grunts, then growls, and I stop what I’m doing.

This isn’t unusual these days. Nox told me that his temper spikes sometimes, and that I’d need to be patient with him.

And I am patient.

Walking down the hall to our room, I stop in the doorway and watch as he tries to put on his new prosthetic leg. This one arrived last week and is a little more complicated to fit. And I see it’s getting to him.

My stomach sinks as I watch him try and try, and get nowhere. Out of nowhere, he grips the prosthetic tight, rears his arm back and throws it across the room. Hard. It hits the wall, and the bang is so loud it makes my rigid body jerk. My heart aches. I hate that this is so hard on him.

Resting his elbows on his knees, he rubs his hands over his face and breathes deeply, trying to control himself.

I’ve prepared myself for this moment. And I pray that the internet videos I’ve watched are accurate. Or this will be super awkward.

Quiet as a mouse, I walk into our room and pick up the prosthetic. Making my way over to the bed where he sits, I kneel in front of him. Feeling me close, he uncovers his red and angry face. Upon seeing me, he softens. “Hey.”

Not saying a word, I take hold of the leg sleeve and unroll it. Nox watches me carefully and opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off with, “You spent months saving me.” Avoiding his eyes, I slide the silicone sleeve up the remainder of his right leg and whisper, “My turn to save you.”

I’m so careful not to make faces or noises. I don’t want this to be a negative experience for us. I want to be there to help when he needs it. Rolling the second sock on top of the silicone sleeve, I tell him, “You don’t ever need to do this alone. I’m always here, babe.”

Sliding on the prosthetic, I tell him, “Stand, babe. You have to walk around a little.”

Standing, I hear the first click of the pin fitting into the base of the prosthetic. He walks on the spot a few times and it clicks some more. Then it stops clicking.

Smiling up at him, I ask, “Okay?”

Face heated, he grunts, “Not okay.”

My face falls.

You shouldn’t have gotten involved, moron.

My shoulder slump, and I shrug, “I just thought-”

I’m cut off when his arms wrap around my waist, and he pulls me close. So close, I can feel something long and hard poke my belly.

Well, hello.

Looking up at him in shock, he says in awe, “You are the sexiest woman on the fuckin’ planet.”

Flushing, I say breathily, “Oh.”

Pulling me even closer, he leans forward and mutters against my lips, “And I’m gonna fuck you right now.”

Slumping, I sigh into his mouth, “Okay.”

I feel his grin on my lips, “I thought we were going to be late.”

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I mutter, “It can wait.”

Chuckling, he pulls me back onto the bed and shows me just how sexy he thinks I am.

***

“Shit! We’re so late!”

“It’s our wedding, babe. They aren’t gonna do anything without us.”

My eyes widen as I straighten my hair in the car mirror. “I have sex hair!”

He smirks, “Yeah, you do.”

Running my hands down my long, plain, ivory strapless dress, I scowl. Turning, ready to spit fire, I take a look at him a

nd my mouth snaps shut. My eyes water and my lips quiver, “And you look so handsome in a tux.”

Reaching across the cab, he takes hold of my hand and squeezes, “What’s all this shit, baby? We’re meant to be happy right now.”

Sniffling, I explain, “It was one of the things I felt cheated on. When I thought you were- you know. I felt cheated that we hadn’t done any boyfriend-girlfriend things. We hadn’t gone grocery shopping together, or bought bed sheets together. And I always wished I’d seen you in a tux. And now I am.”

Swallowing hard, unable to control myself, I lift my head and I wail, “On our wedding day!”

Squeezing my hand tighter, Nox chuckles nervously, “Freakin’ me out here, babe.”

Releasing him, I fan my face with my hands. “Shit. Okay, sorry. I’m cool.”

He chuckles again. “No, you’re not.”

No. I’m not.

Pulling up to city hall, I see our parents and Terah waiting for us. Parking right out front, I exit the car and all the women rush towards me, talking animatedly all at once.

I’m lead away from Nox, and he lifts his finger to his head in a silent salute.

Rolling my eyes, I mouth, “Love you.”

Kissing his fingers, he places them on his heart.

***

Signing the papers has got to be the most emotional thing I’ve ever gone through.

The tears just wouldn’t stop.

And I felt stupid.

That was until Nox came up behind me, holding me around the waist. “No tears today, baby. Best day of my life.”

I agree. One hundred percent.

The judge came over to us and shook our hands. He leaned in and said to Nox, “Proud to have you serve this country, son. Good to have you home.”

That is Nox’s cover story.

According to the Army (thanks to Mitch), Adam Christian Taylor went missing during a mission some years ago. He was declared dead with no body being found. Turns out, he was alive the whole time. He was found six months ago, gravely wounded and with a case of hardcore amnesia.