Marius

Taking a woman home was usually a perk, not a punishment.

But then I saw Gretchen’s home.

I parked my car, but I considered driving away. What the hell was it with this girl? Gretchen was a little thing, curvy and athletic. But her house? Ridiculous.

She lived in a shed.

The cottage was small enough to make a garage look like a McMansion. Hell, the porch wrapped around the front, practically doubling the square footage. But she guided me towards her little cottage like it was some sort of normal, acceptable place for a dirty, quick, mind-blowing night of fucking and inhibitions.

Christ, I didn’t have enough room to fuck her properly. The English styled cottage was hardly more than a nook. How the hell was I supposed to get in her cranny if I couldn’t make it through the door? I’d lost my leg, not half my body weight. I’d never make it inside.

Gretchen took my hand. I didn’t move.

“How the hell am I supposed to get in there?” I asked.

Gretchen giggled. Her dark eyes danced with an innocent mischief. Was this beautiful girl trying to be naughty? First time doing something bad? For someone looking so desperately for Prince Charming, she didn’t let a lot of guys storm her castle.

“That’s part of the fun,” she whispered. “It’ll be tight, but I think you’ll like it.”

It would be all fun and games until I whacked my cock off the ceiling. “You realize I’m not as agile as I used to be?”

“You don’t have to be.” Her hands flattened on my chest. “Marius, you have no idea what you just did for me. I’ll never be able to prove how grateful I am, but I hope you let me try. Again and again. As long as it takes.”

Now this was the sort of gratitude I’d been looking for. Screw a medal. A man only needed a long night with a good woman to feel like a damned hero.

But in that house?

Hell no.

Gretchen led me inside, but I had to duck to get in through the door. Probably the first indication that the night wouldn’t go the way I’d planned.

Especially as Gretchen had no bedroom.

The cottage could hardly fit a mini-fridge and two-burner stove. The kitchen, or what was intended to be a kitchen, was some cutesy, EZ Bake Oven shit. Ruffled curtains and mason jars give it a country feel, but the walls closed in. A barn door separated what I assumed was the bathroom from the rest of the home. Big windows attempted to alleviate the claustrophobia. Did a shit job.

A staircase made out of built-in storage boxes led to a loft with the ceiling no higher than four feet.

I pointed to her bed. “You think I can crawl up there?”

She bit her lip. “I figured we’d would be horizontal anyway.”

“If I’d known it’d be this hard to get in your bed, I would’ve fucked you in the car.”

She grinned. “You can take me anywhere you want.”

Dangerous words from a beautiful girl in an impossibly tiny house. My cock hardened. So did my head. A quick sweat broke over my body. Not the time or the place to worry about the past, but the cramped surroundings sure as hell felt more like the medic hospital than a home.

I thought a man lost his personal space when he joined the Navy, but when a sailor got hurt? If I had known what would’ve happened after the accident, I would’ve preferred to die beneath the open sky. Instead, they dragged me through the pain, panic, and tight spaces. Pinned to a backboard. Stuffed into a helicopter. Doped up in a field hospital. It’d been constricting, close, and in my face.

A surge of pain zapped through a leg I no longer had. The phantom pains weren’t anything new. The doctors had warned about them. Just didn’t tell me I’d only feel them when I got caught somewhere I didn’t want to be. Stuck in a car. Pinned in a shower stall.

In the home of a woman desperate to prove her gratitude to me.

The sweet girl had curves that begged me to get on all fours to ravage what she offered. But could I even ravage anymore? Christ, I didn’t know if I could get on the ground. Wasn’t sure the prosthetic would let me pleasure her, hold her, fuck her the way I needed and she deserved.

But it’d take more than a fake leg to stop me. Just because I couldn’t do doggy didn’t mean I couldn’t save one. And just because I was a dog person didn’t mean I didn’t want a little pussy.

Her kiss was timeless. Not a quick graze, not an urging for haste. Not even a plea to take it slow. Her lips blessed mine with a gasp, a murmur, a single beautiful touch that promised so much more than a few moments of pleasure and the night of regretted inhibition.

She had to stand on her tiptoes to reach me. I liked that. Did she realize how small and vulnerable she felt pressed against my body?

It awakened something in me. A darkness. It’d been a long time since I’d felt like myself. Powerful. Eager.

Healthy.

But the room was too tiny and my cock was too big.

I didn’t trust the prosthetic yet, so I couldn’t haul her into my arms or carry her over my shoulder. I grabbed her wrist instead, tugging her to the porch, back into the night. One of the best things about Butterpond was privacy. Our only neighbors were the fireflies in the yard and the twinkling stars overhead.

And one excited fucking dog running around her feet.

“I’ll take it from here, mutt.” I threw a tennis ball.

Ambrose glanced at it, looked at me, and—I swear to God—he frowned.

Gretchen giggled, hopping onto her patio table. “Can you blame him? He wants to protect me. He thinks you’re some big, bad stranger come to steal me away.”

“How do you know I’m not?”

She bit her lip. “I kinda hope you are.”

“Why?”

The sexy thing actually squirmed as I edged her legs open and stepped between her thighs. She leaned back, her hands braced behind her, chest rising and falling with quick, excited breaths.

“I think my drunken revelation proves that there are a lot of things I’d like to do with you,” she whispered.

“Only wish I’d been there for it.”

“Now I have a fantastic excuse to do all the things I was afraid to do.”

I grinned. “Why would you ever be afraid of doing this?”

Gretchen arched an eyebrow. “Like I told you before, that’s not the kind of girl I am, and I don’t belong with a man like you.”

Bullshit. “Oh, I’m exactly the kind of man you need.” I stared at her body, coveting every curve and softness that shouldn’t have been mine. “You can keep waiting for Prince Charming, or you can try your luck with the villain.”

She brushed a finger along my arm. “But I know you’re not a villain.”

“Don’t be so sure.”

“You’re my hero, Marius. Don’t ever forget that.”

I’d expected a vixen, but I’d captured a pixie. The woman was so innocent, so timid, that just her kiss would’ve been reward enough. She acted like she had no idea what she was doing inviting me to her home. And maybe she didn’t.

Made it more exciting.

A girl like Gretchen needed to be fucked and fucked often. I captured her in a kiss and drew her close. Just the brush of my lips set her on fire. She shivered, cooed, and made a dozen little incoherent noises that throbbed my cock and burned my blood.

I slipped my tongue over hers. Gretchen groaned, and I nearly lost my mind. Then again, nothing was left in that darkness worth saving.

It had been a long time since I’d felt anything as soft as this woman. Her lips. Her tongue. The dark, delicate skin hidden beneath her ridiculously yellow safety vest. The military didn’t afford us many opportunities for warmth or gentleness. I had to enjoy this.

The vest was first to go. Gretchen giggled as my fingers tucked under her shirt. I rolled it over her dark curves. A tight, flat stomach peeked at me, quivering with each harsh whimper.

I nearly dropped to my knees then and there.

All she needed to do was whisper and I’d be hers. A single word would have conquered me. No woman ever had the sort of control over me before. But Gretchen possessed me. Struck me. Stole my willpower and replaced it with an obedience the military couldn’t earn even after fifteen years of service.

And the sweet girl giggled. Actually giggled.

My fingers grazed her curves as I lifted the shirt over her head. Christ. I would’ve gnawed through her bra if she hadn’t already unhooked the back and let the crisp, white silk fall away. The bra revealed lovely cinnamon skin, tempting my restraint with dark nipples begging to be sucked.

This woman was made to be kissed, touched, devoured.

I seized her, but my hands were too rough for her sensitive breasts. She merely gasped as I palmed her with heavy, calloused fingers. I squeezed. She hummed. And I knew in that moment it would take every ounce of control and discipline to not thoroughly destroy this lovely creature.

It wasn’t just my cock that hardened—every muscle, every bone, every pump of my heart surged with a rush of unbridled testosterone.

I would take her. Hard. Rough. My darkest instincts demanded that I bite, scratch, rut this woman. I needed to come deep inside this beautiful, sweet girl again and again, until I was certain every ounce of my seed had filled the most vulnerable parts of her.

My kiss didn’t scare her, but it scared me.

I hadn’t had a connection with a woman for months. Not a touch. Not a kiss. I had no idea what I would do to her once I was given that permission.

It wasn’t just rage. Whatever conquered me was greater than need or desire.

I had no idea who I was anymore.

But this meant I could prove my virility to myself again. I’d only lost a leg, nothing else, and yet the excitement had bred something dark and frightening inside me. The urge was monstrous and dangerous and all-consuming.

I didn’t just want to fuck Gretchen. I needed to make her mine. Forever.

I wouldn’t stop until she belonged to me. Wouldn’t release her until people could see that she was mine, that I had marked her, claimed her, and taken her as my own.

That desire would not be alleviated with one night, one moment, one fuck.

The monster inside me demanded something more visceral. A masculine conquest.

The only way I’d ever feel alive again, whole again, was to take something she wouldn’t be willing to give.

A legacy. A name.

A creation.

Her womb.

I shivered.

That was a new desire. A dangerous desire. In that moment of utter confusion hardened me for something more powerful than sex.

And that’s when I knew I couldn’t do it.

But I reached for the button of her shorts.

This was wrong.

The denim slipped over her long, shapely legs. The hint of pink teased me. Silky panties, begging to be ripped away.

This was dangerous. I’d never be able to stop myself. I hadn’t packed a condom, and her perfection already shredded my willpower.

I rolled her panties over her thighs. Christ, I hadn’t even touched her yet, but she’d already drenched the silk.

This was insane. What man could resist tasting her, losing himself inside of her? If I surrendered to that instinct, I’d never let her go. I’d fuck her, destroy her, and damn us to my own passions again and again as I drowned her in my seed.

I couldn’t do this.

But I couldn’t stop.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” I whispered.

Gretchen smirked. “I bet you say that to all the women you get naked.”

“And I bet you get naked for all the men who save your dog.”

“Ambrose gets into trouble…but not like this.” She drew me closer, tugging on my shirt. “And I never, ever reward his rescuers this way.”

This woman would kill me.

Every inch of her was a chocolate-coated caress, soft and wanting. From the tips of her manicured toes to the ridiculous puff of her pigtails, the woman was made for sex. And if she didn’t know it yet, I’d be glad to demonstrate.

I kissed her, too deep, too rough, and nothing like how she deserved to be taken. The wild, punishing kiss stole her breath, conquered her lips, and left her trembling in my arms.

And yet she groaned. Her nipples tightened, practically begging for my palms to squeeze and pinch. Too aggressive a touch over too soft skin, but I rolled the taut nub between my thumb and forefinger. Her mouth dropped open, and a quiet, shuddering gasp echoed into the night.

Had no one been rough with her before? Seemed impossible. I’d never wanted anything more than to earn her shocked whimper…

And any other noises she might have made.

What confessions could I force from those puffy lips? What secrets could I forge from her desperate begging?

She spread her legs, and a perfect dark slit awaited my touch. But Gretchen didn’t let me get my taste. In a flurry of bumbling fingers, she aimed for my shirt. I helped her, removing the shirt and letting it stretch over the rock-hard muscles I’d toned as a SEAL. Tight abs. Defined pecks. Biceps that strained the t-shirt. Her eyes widened, but I needed more than her gaze on me.

Her fingertips teased my chest and drew little circles against the outline of my flexing muscles. Each touch pulsed my cock. Her dark hands contrasted the tan of my skin. Christ, I’d never thought a woman as beautiful as Gretchen would touch me after the injury. Never thought someone like her would want me, would tug me closer to her eager body.

But the beauty aimed a bit lower.

Her hands grazed the waistband of my jeans.

And my heart sunk.

Anticipation, excitement, and desire surged through my blood, but the pop of that button chilled me to the core. I knew from experience—the jeans would get caught on the prosthetic.

Awkwardness was tugging denim over the metal brace. Embarrassment was getting them stuck at my knees.

But nothing would be as humiliating as what I’d have to do next.

If I wanted to fuck her…did I leave the leg on or off?

Couldn’t kneel with the damn thing. Couldn’t fuck with it on. Not easily. Not without positioning her on a surface at the right height, level, placement.

Damn it.

Gretchen deserved to be fucked by a man who could use every inch of his body to pleasure her. A man with the agility to delight, tease, and serve.

What the hell could I offer this woman, a sexy princess who wanted me so badly that the inside of her thighs were slickened with desire?

All I’d wanted was a dirty night of remorseless sex. Instead, I got mind-fucked.

Gretchen deserved more than a quick lay. Hell, so did I. And if I couldn’t give her everything she needed—hell, if I couldn’t prove to myself that I was able to give her what she needed—then I wasn’t doing this. Not here. Not now.

Not until I could fuck her right.

But I wasn’t a man who left a woman unsatisfied.

I stopped her before she could do any more than unzip my jeans. She gasped as I gripped her wrists tight, forcing her hands to the patio table. I had her pinned. Helpless.

I liked that. She did too.

“How bad do you want me?” My voice lowered, a graveled demand for the truth.

Gretchen was shy, but she didn’t look away, didn’t dare take her eyes from mine. Probably afraid of what she’d see, what she’d realize.

That she trembled, naked and wet, for a stranger.

“It’s more than wanting you,” she whispered. “It’s about wanting this.”

My fingertips tickled a path along her silky skin—down from the swell of her breasts, across the flat quiver of her tummy, and over that soft, puffy secret. Her slit glistened in the soft light.

So. Goddamned. Wet.

I’d never survive this night.

“Tell me,” I ordered. The curiosity would kill me. “What do you want?”

“I want to feel it.”

“Feel what?”

“What everybody talks about. What it’s like. What it feels like.”

The pleasure had made her delirious. I leaned close. “Sex?”

“No…” Gretchen’s sigh wavered as my hand teased over her slit. “More than sex. I’ve never…”

I frowned. “Never…?”

“Surrendered.”

Jesus Christ. Good thing my cock was tucked in my jeans. The denim was the only force in this world keeping it from exploding.

Gretchen bit her lip. “I’ve never desired anyone like this before. Never wanted a man so badly that I’ve…” She looked down, embarrassed. “That I’ve spread my legs and begged. It’s not just you…but it is you. I never thought I’d want someone like you, Marius. But then you showed up, and now…”

“Say it.”

“I never understood desire until…”

Until my fingers had dropped to her slit.

Until I’d stroke the soft petals peeking from her dark folds.

Until her head fell back, her words cooed, and her body jolted with a fierce and desperate pleasure.

It was like Gretchen had never been touched before. Christ, it was like I’d never touched a woman before.

Gretchen offered complete submission. Conquest. Herself.

But if I wanted to take it…I’d be forced to give everything in return.

Every secret. Every fear. Every emotion.

Gretchen was probably the only woman worth that temptation. Hell, she was the only woman who’d ever made me ache with such primitive demand. But it wasn’t my straining cock that worried me. It was the heaviness in my balls. That need. It went beyond desire, beyond fetish.

She had no idea the desperation tormenting me.

And the gentle stroke of my finger against her slick pussy only baited that awakening monster.

“When was the last time you touched yourself?” I whispered. A cruel question, but her answer only tormented me.

Gretchen held my gaze. “This morning.”

Her honesty would destroy her. And me. Us. Together.

My finger flicked her greedy nub. “What did you think about?”

“You.”

I grinned. Or maybe I bared my teeth. Either way, she didn’t recognize the danger. “I thought you wanted nothing to do with me?”

She jerked as I stroked her burning clit. “I should’ve trusted my instincts.”

“Too late. You’re in trouble now, sweetness.” I spread her legs wider, marveling in the perfection offered before me. “Now you’re naked, exposed, and this beautiful pussy is hungry for me.” My voice dropped. “What are you going to do, little girl?”

“I should ask you the same thing.”

“Terrible things.” I moved closer, pressing the straining denim against her heat. “Terrible, secret things. Can you handle that?”

The tremble in her voice revealed everything to me. “Yes. I’ve wanted you since I first saw you.”

“Lust at first sight?”

“Shameful, right?”

Talk like that would get her in trouble.

Talk like that would get me in trouble.

But I’d asked for the truth, and she couldn’t hide anything behind those big, wide eyes. Couldn’t hide her excitement while her petals glistened with need.

I hardened my voice. “You want me to touch you?”

My finger already teased her folds. I flicked.

She jerked. Whimpered.

Then she offered more of her body to me.

I smiled. “You want me to pleasure you?”

Gretchen arched. Her clit, swollen and aching, heated under my finger. Her lips parted as I delighted her with a few ferocious circles.

“You gotta surrender first, sweetness.”

Gretchen shook her head. “I know you’re bad for me.”

“I could be very good for you.”

“I’ve always wanted the real thing,” she said. “Love at first sight. A soul mate. A whirlwind romance with ripped bodices and faraway places.”

Her entrance was slick, tight, and would burn my finger. I sunk in deep, savoring how she twitched, gasped, and then devoured my finger.

She’d clench it almost off. How fucking tight was this woman?

“I’ve been to those faraway places.” The words punished me. “Why run away when you can get in trouble at home?”

“I don’t like to get in trouble.”

That I could believe. “But look at where you are, sweetness. Naked. Slick. Humping against the finger fucking your pussy. You’re not just in trouble, little girl. You’re in danger.”

Gretchen groaned. Her head fell back. “Are you going to save me or destroy me?”

Fuck.

I had no idea.

The blood had gone to my cock, leaving me with just my inhibitions. I silenced her before she could say more. Before she could resist.

Before I took too much and regretted it all.

I pushed Gretchen onto the table and leaned over her waiting body with a devilish smile. Her legs fell open, and I buried my face within her slit, sinking into her silken folds to suckle her delicious cream while she groaned my name.

If I couldn’t fuck her, I’d taste her instead.

“Marius…” Gretchen nearly cracked her head off the table. She covered her eyes, unwilling to watch as I rewarded her for admitting that sinful desire. “That’s amazing…”

More than amazing.

This woman had no idea that she was my delicious treat—a well-deserved moment of sweetness for a sailor who had been through more than enough shit. The leg. The surgeries. The pain.

I’d lost myself somewhere after the accident, but I knew where to find the old me—the Marius Payne with convictions, plans, a mission.

I’d find it in her.

Gretchen had offered herself to me in gratitude, but there was a reason I was on my knees—knee—thanking her. She’d given me more than the hottest pussy I’d ever tasted, sexiest secrets I’d ever heard, and most tempting innocence I’d ever possessed.

She’d made me feel…

Alive.

Alive. Whole. And hungry for more.

I sunk deeper into her, my tongue lashing her every slick fold. Gretchen demanded more than a willful, determined lick. She ground against my lips, body arching to submit to the pleasure. Sweet enough for dessert, intoxicating enough to blur my vision. She bit her lip, gripped the table, and tensed her perfect legs. Rocking. Squirming. As if she’d never felt such delight before.

No surprise there—no man delivered pleasure like me.

Her slickness burned, and Gretchen’s every heavy breath echoed a quiet whimper into the night.

“Marius…” Her voice cracked. “I don’t… I’ve never…”

Enough talk. I wanted moans.

I nibbled her clit, gave it a solid, crippling suck, and gripped her legs as she attempted to buck me away. A devilish, all-consuming orgasm cracked through her body, racking her from head to toe in silencing shivers. With a quiet plea, she attempted to roll away. Wasn’t having that. She wouldn’t hide that delicious cream from my tongue. I pinned her to the table, deliberately seizing another lap of her quivering slit.

Then I went back for me.

I wasn’t a greedy man. I just took what was mine.

This woman belonged to me. And before the night was out, I’d prove it to her—again and again.

I chuckled as Gretchen pleaded with me. The poor girl couldn’t cope with an orgasm. She shook, sweated, squirmed. Attempted to escape.

But she had nowhere to run. Sooner she realized, the better.

“Please…” Her legs clamped shut. I laughed as the shudder parted them once more, exposing a deliriously hot pussy eager for another taste. The crash of pleasure wavered her voice. “Need…to breathe…”

“I should fuck you.” I didn’t recognize the growl in my voice. She responded to it. Aching. Her lips parted in a begging breath. “I should hold you down and bury myself inside of you. I should fuck you until you beg me to stop, and then I should fuck you again until you realize you were made for coming on this cock.”

Gretchen’s eyes widened. So goddamned innocent. So beautiful.

So eager to be ravished and corrupted.

Her bravery was limited, but she breathed the question with a quiet sigh. “Why don’t you?”

Because I didn’t trust myself.

Because I didn’t trust what I would do with her.

Because I didn’t trust I’d stop before it ruined everything.

Or made it right.

I didn’t want to fuck. A quick night and forgettable morning was wasted on a woman like Gretchen. Why waste the opportunity to have her begging me, gripping me, holding me tight? This was a woman who’d eagerly submit to me, who’d lock her legs around my waist as I bottomed out inside that tightness.

A woman who’d come as I emptied every last ounce of seed inside her womb.

The animal in me wouldn’t be sated with a quick jerk of my cock and wasted potential on a mattress. I’d come inside her or not at all, and I’d have to do it right. When I wasn’t crippled by phantom pains in a non-existent leg or the claustrophobia raking my brain.

“You’re gonna owe me.” I licked her cream from my lips and left her with a sensual warning. “You’re gonna beg for me. When I fuck you, I’m gonna hear it in your voice, see it in your face, feel it in your panties. The next time you come to me, I want you on your knees, ready and waiting.”

Gretchen dared me with a sweet smile. She propped onto her elbows, words husky with desire. “If you leave me now, what makes you think there’ll be a next time? Maybe I just got everything I needed?”

Little liar. “I’m not finished with you, sweetness. You got off, but you didn’t get taken. You weren’t fucked. You weren’t mounted and ravished like an animal. And if you’re satisfied with only my tongue, if you think that’s all you can handle, you better tell me now, little girl.”

She smiled. “I’ll try anything once.”

“One fuck with me isn’t enough.”

“Then prove it.” She wiggled against the table. “Or are you afraid you can’t handle me?”

No, I was afraid one night would lead to nine months of perfect mistake.

Gretchen shouldn’t have baited me. Shouldn’t have tempted.

I’d break her.

I’d pick her up, slam her down on my cock, and use her like a goddamned toy to get off.

She’d love it, of course. But she wasn’t ready for that. Wasn’t ready for me. Wasn’t ready to give that part of herself to a man she didn’t yet understand.

“You’re just torturing yourself.” She crossed her arms behind her head, stretching her curves and teasing me with those perfect breasts. Her eyes darted to the tent in my pants. “That’s gotta hurt.”

“I’m used to pain.” I backed away from the table before the primal instinct destroyed my resolve. “Besides, I like that you’re in my debt.”

“And how does a man like you expect to be repaid?”

Like any other man—a night of fun and the pounding of flesh.

I slipped her panties into my pocket. “I’m taking these as a trophy.”

Gretchen hummed. “Not nearly as fun as the real thing.”

No shit. “They’ll look good next to the bra.”

“Jokes on you.” She giggled. “Nothing looks good with that bra.”

Nothing except her dark, perfect skin. “Remember, sweetness. You owe me.”

Gretchen took the challenge. She sat up, crossed those beautiful legs, and licked her lip. “Just name the date and time, sailor.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I backed away from the porch. Somehow. Most of my blood wasn’t in my head, making the night dizzy, foggy with the scent of her.

What the hell was wrong with me?

Why was I lying to her?

I might’ve convinced myself that I’d walked away to protect her, to prevent me from acting like a savage animal as I fucked my frustrations, anguish, and desires out of an innocent girl, but it wasn’t the truth.

I wasn’t going to ruin a woman like Gretchen. Someone so sweet, caring, and beautiful deserved more than…

Me.

What could I give her? A fuck? An orgasm? Some dirty words?

I wasn’t healed yet.

My life was a waste of trauma and pain.

The last thing I wanted to do was inflict the same misery on her that life had fucked into me. I wasn’t the man of her dreams. No Prince Charming or perfect lover. What could I offer a woman who would be my own salvation? Why would I ruin that sweetness?

Life had saddled me with a permanent companion in misery.

So why was I walking away from the one woman who might have made me happy?