Off Base(6)

*

Beck reached deep inside himself, searching for the extra slack in his rope. Can’t find it. Can’t. He’d reached the end. Resisting her might have been possible before she’d touched his legs, but no one had ever touched him there on purpose. Not so close to his dick. Christ above, was she going to touch him there? He held his breath, head falling back on his shoulders as her touch inched higher, higher. Please touch me. Grab me hard.

Just before she reached his lap, her hands detoured up the front of his uniform jacket. Beck released a shaky exhale and she laughed softly. Knowingly? When she reached the top, he tipped his head forward again to watch her undo the buttons. One by one, she popped them open, green eyes steady on him as she worked. His severe disappointment that she hadn’t touched his throbbing erection gave way to awe. What was this gorgeous, electric girl doing here with him? Her face was mere inches from his, her mouth so ripe. So delicious looking, while at the same time a little…bad. The kind of mouth he dreamed about at night, alone in his bunk as he stroked himself off. He shouldn’t be thinking of her—parts of her—as an object. What was wrong with him?

Hot. I’m so hot. Need more than my own hand. Nothing is working anymore.

Kenna pushed the jacket off his shoulders and down, leaving his hands tangled in the sleeves at his back. He started to free his hands, but she stayed him with a head shake. “Major?”

“Yeah?” He swallowed hard. “Yes?”

She moved closer between his outstretched thighs, stroking her nails over his shaved head. It felt so damn good, he moaned. A moan cut off by what she said next. “You can look at my body.”

As if magnetized, his hungry gaze landed on her breasts and devoured. They weren’t good-girl breasts, the kind that girls of his recollection hid beneath white cardigans in church. Kenna would have been called a sinner if she’d walked into his old church, no matter what she was wearing. She didn’t have breasts, she had…tits. Naughty, up-to-no-good, made-to-bounce tits. The kind he’d seen in skin magazines or in high-quality porn, when he broke down every so often and watched. They were pushed up in leather, exactly as they were meant to be. Heck, if he tugged her top down a mere inch, her nipple would pop free. The thought of licking her little peaks while she sat on his thighs sent another bolt of uncomfortable lust straight to his dick, forcing him to shift on the bed.

“Kenna, I’ve never seen anything like you,” he ground out. “But I can’t look anymore or I’ll embarrass myself.”

She surprised him by leaning in and kissing the corner of his mouth. “Nothing you do or say here will be embarrassing.”

Then she dropped to her knees. Beck’s cock surged against his fly with such intensity, his hands untangled themselves from his jacket with frantic movements so he could grip his aching length. He had no choice…would have done anything to ease the agonizing throb. His gaze shot to hers, dreading the judgment he’d find there as he squeezed and released. Stroked through his restricting pants. These uncontrollable urges of his had become too much. No matter how often he denied them, they never stopped, only gaining intensity. He witnessed no judgment on her face. Instead, he saw pleasure. Seduction. She liked watching him touch himself? Jesus…she did.

Beck found himself widening his thighs and leaning back on one elbow so she could watch. Just having her attention centered there was going to be enough to finish him. More. More. Just a little more. But before he could start that final ascent, she removed his hand, replacing it with her own. His elbow gave out and he fell back on the bed, thighs shaking, stomach clenching.

“Have you ever had a woman’s mouth here, Major?”

“No,” he croaked. “Please. I know I shouldn’t ask, but please. I’ll do anything.”

He forced himself to lift his head so he could watch her unfasten his belt, work his button, unzip his fly. The lessening of pressure wrenched a groan from his throat, but nothing on his earth would ever compare to seeing his stiff dick in her grip. The softness of a woman’s—no, not just a woman…Kenna’s—hands put his own to shame. Precum leaked from the tip the first time she stroked her fist from base to head as his chest shuddered in and out on harsh breaths.

“She missed out, didn’t she, sweetheart?” She looked up at him under heavy eyelids. “You’re going to make some woman very happy with this.”

Her pink tongue skated over the tip, and his hips jerked wildly on the bed. “Darlin’. Darlin’, please…I’m hurting. I’m hurting all over.” Jesus, he’d never called anyone darlin’ in his life and who the hell cared? He reached down and wound a fist in her hair because he couldn’t not use her as an anchor. “Is this okay?”

“Hold on tight,” she whispered, before sucking half of his erection into her mouth. Beck shouted the vilest of curses at the ceiling. Swore his life was coming to an end. Every ounce of feeling in his body raced to his already sensitive cock, swelling it inside the sweet heat of her mouth. That mouth, that mouth that was designed for sinning, hummed around him as it worked, the vibrations hitting his balls like lightning strikes. Savoring noises that polarized and woke a beast inside of him at the same time. His survival was in Kenna’s control, and he gave it over without a moment’s hesitation, trusting her to end the torment. In that moment, she was everything. His sin, his salvation, his caretaker. All of it.