KEN
Her left nipple is missing. There’s a thin line of scar tissue where it once was. It’s not as bad as it could be, and plenty of people live with far worse, but I know none of that matters because it’s all an abstract concept until it’s your body and it’s happening to you.
I cup her breast and run my fingers over her skin.
“You’re beautiful,” I say. I mean it too. She is beautiful in so many ways. She’s strong and she’s soft and she’s the kind of woman who is capable of challenging me without being a raging harridan about it. She’s the perfect mixture of bratty girl and mature, driven woman. She doesn’t really need me. She would survive on her own just fine, but I want to be there for her. I want to make sure she never hurts like this again.
“You’re just saying that because you have to.”
“I don’t have to say a goddamn thing, girl,” I growl, leaning down and nipping lightly at her earlobe. She’s going to learn a new relationship with pain with me. She’s going to learn that it can hurt good. It can be constructive, and instructive.
“They defaced me.”
“They left their marks. I left a few marks on them too,” I say, my lip curling back in feral instinct at the memory. Very occasionally, it is good to unleash the animal which prowls at the back of every male mind, the thing which craves blood and death and the screams of the dying. I was a beast the day I took her from them, and I do not regret a moment of it.
I run my hands down her body, the curves of her waist and hips and I find the underwear which is keeping the rest of her from me. It slides down her body at my urging, leaving her utterly bare besides dark curls at the very apex of her thighs.
The scars truly aren’t as terrible as she has imagined them to be, but she won’t believe me, not yet. She’s lying there with fear in her beautiful eyes because she can’t risk believing what I’m saying to her.
So I pull my shirt off. Let her see the man she is with. I bear the marks of war. Three bullet holes. One in my right shoulder, another below my ribs, the third an inch lower. I caught six bullets that day, these strays were the ones that missed the vest. There’s also a long burn from an explosion which runs down the left-hand side of my abdominal plane.
“I’m hardly untouched either,” I point out, lifting her hands to my body, so she can run her fingers over my torso and the scars that mark it.
The military is a massive organism which, among other things, has become expert in the application of pain and damage. But those skills can be used to heal as well as to hurt.
“It’s different for men. Men are supposed to be scarred.”
I raise a brow as I look down at her. “Miss Mary, you wouldn’t be sexist would you?”
She gives me a little smirk of a smile, and a hint of a laugh. My heart swells at her reaction. She is letting me in, and she is beautiful. She is the most beautiful woman in the world, scars or not, I can see her pain and her bravery, her strength and her softness. They are all laid bare to me.
I lower my head and begin to kiss her body, every part of her I can. This is reconnaissance. I am learning where she squirms, where she moans, where she goes soft and gives little gasps.
My cock is rock hard and I want nothing more than to push it between her thighs where her dark curls are hiding the entrance to her tight pussy, but I take my time. Because I want to, and because I know it must have been a very long time since she was with a man. Her fear of showing those scars tells me all I need to know.
“Please,” she whimpers. “I need you inside me.”
I don’t like to disappoint a lady, especially not one as beautiful as she is. It’s my pleasure to push the head of my cock to that heated, wet little crevice between her legs and surge forward, feeling her body wrap around me in perfect feminine embrace.
I take it slowly, make sure she isn’t in any pain. She is very tight and her body takes some time to adjust, but soon she is moving back against me with little moans which don’t hold those first whimpers of pain, and soon I am lost in her body, surging back and forth inside her hot, wet little cunt.
She’s perfect. I can’t express how gorgeous she is, how her body and her character and her fucking soul are all so beautiful to me as I rock my hips against her, supporting my upper body on my arms so I can look down and enjoy the sight of her.
It’s not long before I am seeing past the scars entirely. They are a small part of the total package, the curve of her hip, the softness of her thighs, the way her tongue curls against mine as I kiss her deeply.
I wanted to fuck her, but I am making love to her, and in this moment it feels as though we have known each other for lifetimes.
It’s so good, I almost forget. Almost.
“I was going to punish you, wasn’t I?”
She undulates beneath me, her inner walls squeezing my cock, her hot wet embrace driving me to distraction. I can’t let her make me forget. She was a disobedient little brat and she will pay for that.
I slide my cock out of her, admire the way her pussy lips flower so beautifully, pink and spread and dewy with her arousal and mine.
She can’t think that she’s going to get away with things because of scars, or ideology, or any other excuse she throws at me in hopes of getting away with things. She’s going to pay for her disobedience the old-fashioned way.
“Face down on the bed.”
She makes a whimpering sound, but it’s heated and it’s soft and when she rolls over I see the pretty curve of her yet to be reddened cheeks. She has a great ass. It’s full and feminine. I could stare at it all day, but right now I’m going to lay my belt across it and make damn sure she knows that when I say stay, I mean stay.
I stand up, my cock bobbing erect and covered in the sleek shine of her juices. I go for my belt, two inches of nice thick shiny black leather, a perfect contrast to the pale ass she’s presenting to me.
“In the future, you’re going to be a good girl and do as I say, aren’t you,” I murmur, reaching down to stroke her hair.
“Yessir,” she mumbles.
I’m pretty sure she’d say anything to get my cock back inside her. I can tell from the way she’s rolling that ass she’s not even thinking about the belt. She wants that tight inner hole filled. Soon. Once I’m done teaching her a lesson.