Possessing Liberty (Claimed 1)

None of them will return the same as they were when they left. The things they've seen and done in the name of God and country…well, some memories you can't erase. Quite frankly, I'm tired of watching my men and others like them die because there is no one to watch out for them once they're home, no one to talk to about the classified shit they did to keep our people safe. Even with the new laws that have passed in the last few years, most soldiers like mine don't seek help because they're honor bound by their own oaths to keep quiet about their missions.

This program quashes that dilemma. Everyone here has security clearance. Everyone here has worked classified missions of their own. Everyone here knows what it's like to come home different than they were when they left. It took a miracle and an ungodly amount of money to get it going. But I've got nothing but time on my hands since I'm no longer in active status, and my family has more than enough money to burn. What good is having it if I can't use it to help the people who need it?

"Take care of her," Sebastian orders me, like I'd let anything bad happen to her.

I need her brain, especially if she's as good as he says she is at developing the kind of shit we need here. I want to ensure we've got everything these guys will need ready to go before they ever step foot in this facility. She's going to help me make sure we can do that. I know how to get unruly soldiers in line and get them home safe. I know fuck all about designing programs, coding, or any of the shit Liberty does.

Even if she can't do what I need, I'd still watch out of her. Not that I think she'll let me do it. She did not seem thrilled with me when I left today. Hell, maybe that's for the best. She's got her whole life ahead of her, and I don't have a place in said life.

Even though I know that's true…I already know that's not going to stop me from making her mine.

Bright and early the next morning, I find myself in the lobby, waiting impatiently for her to arrive. I'm restless and agitated…the same way I have been since I saw her yesterday. I jerked off twice last night to dirty fantasies of her, and then again this morning. My dick is still hard and heavy in my black BDUs, anticipation a tight coil in my stomach.

She's got up enough walls to make Ft. Knox look like child's play, but I'm going to knock them all down, possess her.

No retreat.

No surrender.

I glance around the lobby, curious what she'll think of this place. The seal and emblem for each branch of the military is painted on one cream wall, with a Latin idiom painted beneath. Pax intrantibus, salus exeuntibus. Peace to those who enter, health to those who depart. This is a refuge for those who need it, a port in the storm.

I hope she's comfortable here with me. I want it to be a port for her too, a place she can let down her guard and know she's safe. With me, she'll always have that. I just have to find a way to make her want it…to want me.

I don't think she likes me much.

Jesus. Maybe I should have done more than bought her flowers and a blanket for her desk.

The door opens while I'm deliberating, and she steps through, pulling me up short. I lock my legs in place, fighting the urge to go to her. She looks ravishing in a pretty blue top that's tight beneath her tits and then flares out into some sort of pleats. The blue skirt matches her top. Her long legs are bare, a pair of pretty black heels on her feet. Her hair is up in an intricate bun today. Her pouty lips are pink. Her sooty lashes are dark. Her cheeks turn pink when she sees me waiting for her.

"You're late," I growl. My dick is so hard it's painful. I can't think through the wall of lust pounding through me in relentless waves. The things I'm going to teach this girl. Jesus Christ, I should be ashamed of the filthy, kinky shit I'm going to do to her. I'm not. The coil of anticipation in my stomach winds tighter, cinching my balls up tight.

"It's 7:45," she says, her honey-eyes flashing with annoyance. "You said be here at eight."

Damn. It feels later.

"Come with me," I mutter, turning on my heel. I take a deep breath, trying to get myself under control again. It's impossible. I smell her like she's been all over me. She smells like coconut and sugar, reminding me of the pies our nanny used to make for us. I have a feeling she's going to taste even better than they did.

Her heels click against the floor as she follows behind me. She doesn't speak to me, though I hear her muttering beneath her breath. She's probably calling me a jackass. I don't know how to be soft and sweet like she deserves. It doesn't come natural to me, but I want to try though.

I stop outside the office we're sharing and hold the door open for her.

Her body brushes against mine when she ducks through. I fight back the hungry growl threatening to erupt. Slow. I need to take it slow with her. Give her time to trust me. And then I can fuck her until she's pleading for mercy.

She freezes right over the threshold, going stock still. "We're sharing an office?"

"Don't have an extra one," I lie.

"You didn't say we'd be sharing an office."

"Forgot," I lie again, ducking in behind her. I didn't forget and we don't have to share an office, but we're going to anyway. I want her where I can see her. She far prettier than any view I've had lately. There is beauty in nature, but that beauty doesn't show up often in the kind of places I've spent the last fifteen years inhabiting.

Her irritation vanishes when she notices the flowers on her desk. She turns to face me, her expression soft. "You got me flowers?"

"And a blanket," I mutter. "I like it cold."

"Thank you," she whispers.

We stare at each other for a long, silent moment before I move toward her, slipping the purse off her shoulder to drop it on her desk. I tip her face up toward me so I can see her clearly. Her eyes are dark beneath even though she tried to hide the shadows with makeup.

"You're tired."

"I didn't sleep well."

"You don't like me."

She blinks at me, caught off guard. "I don't know you enough to dislike you," she says, being honest with me. "You make me nervous."

"Why?"

"You're…different than anyone I know." Her cheeks heat, her gaze slipping away from mine before it comes right back like she can't help herself.

"Different how?"