Soldier Mine (Sons of War #2)(50)

The orgasm builds slow and breaks fast. It slams into me with such intensity, my legs give out, and I sag against him, panting.

“I love seeing you lose it,” he murmurs and holds me, his fingers leaving my *. “I love knowing I’m the one you trust to make you come.”

I listen to his desire-roughened voice and know the best part is yet to come. Waves of pleasure render me immobile as my body tenses and releases under their effects.

He turns me to face him, one arm staying around me. By the sparkle in his eyes, he knows I can’t stand on my own. His erection is hard along my belly and the hunger on his face mirroring what I feel.

Petr kisses me deeply, no longer content with patient exploration. He claims my lips, drives me back, renders me breathless with his intensity. The glass wall is cool at my back, and I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him into me.

He lifts me onto his hips and pierces my * hard and fast. I gasp and cling to him with my arms and legs, intoxicated by his scent and the way our wet skin glides against one another. His desire is hot and quick this morning, and he thrusts into me deep and fast, alternating between kisses that rob me of thought and pressing me into the shower wall. He fills me, stretches me with his size, impales me with his hardness until I feel like I melt around his dick and the strength of his chest.

When he comes, it’s with a growl. He sinks into me one last time, and I squeeze my hips around him to keep him there while he braces himself with one arm against the wall behind me. His pants mix with the soft sound of rainfall. We remain in place, frozen after our ecstasy, enjoying the sensations of warm skin, water and the profound pleasure of our joining.

“I want you inside me forever,” I groan, unable to get enough of him. “How is that possible?”

“I’m not the only one who thinks this is a little crazy?” He lifts his head and peers into my eyes.

“No. It’s not normal at all,” I agree. “But it’s also …”

“Natural,” he supplies. “Like we were made for each other.”

The thought does the same thing to me as a look this intense from him: scrambles my thoughts and sends my emotions tumbling.

“Yeah,” I murmur.

He nuzzles my cheek then neck. “Will you stay the weekend?”

“Yes.” I’m about to tell him I’ll stay forever but fear his reaction. “Oh, god. I forgot to tell Todd where I was.”

“I told him.”

“Oh. That I slept on your floor?”

“Nah. He’s a teen boy. He would’ve seen through that. I told him if he needed us, we’re in my room.”

I smile. Todd is growing up. Petr and me being together will make him happy.

“Ready for breakfast?” Petr asks. “I went to grab it and came back to find you in the shower.”

“I’d love breakfast.”

He kisses me intensely once more before easing out of my body and stepping back. I lower my legs. He steadies me, and we leave the shower.

Petr dries me off then hands me one of his tshirts. I pull it on while he tugs on his sweatpants. My eyes move hungrily over his muscular torso. He catches the look with a wink.

“I can guess what we’re having for dessert,” he says and catches me around the waist. He hugs me to him, and I melt. “C’mon. Breakfast is waiting.” Stooping over, he lifts me and carries me out of the bathroom and to the bed and sets me down. A breakfast tray is on the bench at the foot of his sleigh bed. He lifts it and brings it to the bed beside me. “We have strawberry crepes, sausage, bread basket and coffee.”

“It smells amazing.”

Petr climbs behind me and sits, straddling me. I lean back against his chest and sigh. He hugs me.

“Can I ask you about what you were running from?” he murmurs. “I know there’s no good time to discuss it.”

“But you’re worried I’ll flip again and change my mind,” I guess.

“I don’t think it’s possible for either of us to walk away after last night.”

“No,” I agree softly.

“I want there to be nothing between us. I want to know what scared you, so I can help protect you from it. I want … us, Claudia, and everything that entails.”

My eyes water at the words. With mixed feelings, I debate what to say. I fear discussing the past only because of all the horrible memories and emotions it contains. “Okay,” I whisper hoarsely. “And then you’re making love to me again to cheer me up.”

“As many times as it takes,” he replies and squeezes me.

I lean forward to grab a piece of toast and nibble on it. “I met Jake when I was eighteen. He was everything a girl that age dreams of: smart, sexy, and charming. I was na?ve and gullible and totally enamored by him. I fell hard, and I didn’t know how unhealthy our relationship was for about a year. He slowly curbed what I did, where I went, who I spoke to. Who I looked at. He would fly into jealous rages at the drop of a hat then apologize profusely later. I learned the best way to keep him happy was to do what he wanted.

“I stopped seeing my friends, stopped going to college and talking to my mom. I became really lonely, and whenever I confronted him, he grew increasingly upset until the day he hit me for asking if I could go to my brother’s elementary school graduation. He told me if I didn’t behave, he’d take it out on Todd next time. I thought love meant I needed to sacrifice, but I couldn’t deal with the fact he hit me. At that point, two years in, I realized there was an issue but not how to get out. I couldn’t talk to anyone, and he went through my computer every day so I couldn’t google how to get help. I was afraid to leave the house …” I stop, eyes blurring as I recall the horror of my life at that point.