“What’s up, babe?” he said.
“You, apparently.”
2-Stroke lowered his head, gently covering her mouth with his as he tightened his arms around her. He caressed her back, his movement slow, languid, soothing as he pressed her closer, and Chry let her mouth go pliant beneath his. The scent of soap and cinnamon clung to his skin, his mouth hot and sweet, his sensual textures elevating her awareness of him. She sighed and smoothed her hands across his muscled back, savoring how good it felt to have his arms around her.
Very slowly, 2-Stroke withdrew. “You sure you’re as up for this as I am?”
“I am so ready for this,” she said, her voice soft.
He smiled, his eyes locking on hers as he trailed a finger down her cheek, his touch tender and lingering. He kissed her again, his gentleness in every movement. His warmth and strength surrounded her, his touch like silk against silk, yet for all the softness, there was an underlying strength, a depth of feeling. When he made love to her, it was always there, silently reaffirming his commitment to her, that he would always be there for her, no matter what.
And he had been through it all.
It was like light amidst darkness. It was gentleness amidst strength. A fierce ache constricted her throat.
She pulled off her T-shirt and he shed his briefs. The bed sagged with his weight. She turned toward him, and he sighed and drew her against him, molding her to his long, hard frame as he held her.
Splaying his fingers against her scalp, he turned her head, his mouth finding hers in a softly searching kiss. His tenderness mesmerized her, binding her to him with threads of sensation, and she moved closer, wanting to hang on to all the poignant feelings his affection awakened in her.
Sliding her hand across his naked chest, she pressed him back, and he caught her head, holding her mouth against his as he yielded to the light pressure. He drew her with him as he rolled onto his back, and with his arms encasing her, she straddled his hips.
His breath caught, his voice so gruff it was barely audible as he whispered against her mouth. “I love a woman who takes control.”
“I love you,” she murmured. Then rising, she guided him into her.
His whole body tensed as she slowly settled her weight on him, and on a ragged inhale, he tightened his arms around her, molding her against him. Aware of every breath, every heartbeat, every movement he made, Chry began to slowly work her spell, wanting to immerse him in a pleasure so intense it would swamp his senses.
She wanted to experience the full measure of his need.
Bracketing his face with her hands, she held his head immobile as she moved against him, her mouth brushing against his with teasing lightness, his breathing suddenly uneven. She stared at him as she thought she’d never expected to see this man humbled to anything. Yet he was now. It was in his eyes, his expression, telling her that he was her match, everything he wanted, and he was everything she wanted.
He whispered her name, locking her hips against his as he took full advantage of her movements. But Chry kept to a subtle, tormenting rhythm, each penetrating thrust making her groan, setting her body on fire, tightened her passion to a feverish pitch. A low sound groaned out of him, her body making his want more and more. Her heart was so full of him, responding with an uncontrollable, tingling need aching in every muscle, bone and pore.
Hauling in a ragged breath, he dragged his hands up her back, releasing his hold on her hips, and she launched an assault on his senses as she settled deeper on him. A tremor coursed through him, rippling up his body. He surrendered to her, and she experienced a rush of emotion so overwhelming that it left her unsteady, but she forced her body to respond, moving against him, pushing him deeper and deeper into the sensations.
Wanting to give him all she had to give, Chry yielded her mouth fully to him, and he shuddered against and twisted beneath her. “Chry—fuck—”
She rose, drawing him with her, and he went rigid beneath her, suspended at the very edge of release as her body pulled just as tight, spiraling into the center of her. She rubbed her breasts, pinching her nipples and slipping her hand down to her core, caressing and pushing herself closer to the brink, the pleasure almost mindless. Overwhelmed by all the feelings she had for him, she leaned back, giving him the full depth of her as she arched up, tremors coursing through him as he climaxed deep inside her.
With his soft cry, his reaction set off a chain reaction in her and she came in a long, hard orgasm.
With protectiveness welling up in her, she cradled his face against her shoulder, holding him with every ounce of comfort she possessed as the aftermath left them shaking.
She held him like that for several moments, feeling so surrounded by him that it was like he had drawn her inside his very soul. And she closed her eyes, soaking up the feeling of being loved by him.
2-Stroke stirred, just barely, his fingers tangling in her hair as he turned her head, then covered her mouth in a soft, lingering kiss. He heaved a sigh as she settled against his chest, her face tucked against his jaw.
“I feel so connected to you,” he whispered. “It’s the most humbling and fiercest feeling I’ve ever had. Damn, I love you.”
He tightened his hand against her scalp as he kissed her again, his mouth soft against hers. He exhaled, his touch slow and soothing as he began stroking her back. Chry closed her eyes and relished the feel of his hand against her skin.
He was such a sensitive lover. Not only did he meet all her physical needs, but he also met a need that in some ways was even more elemental to her.
“Let’s go back to San Diego. I’m ready. Are you?” she asked.
“I am.”
That was that. They packed up the next day and flew back to San Diego. Immediately they went to her place and started to pack. The whole team showed up, and after they had packed and moved all her stuff, she used 2-Stroke’s grill to cook up a barbeque feast.
Later on that night, she was sitting outside on his patio when he came out of the house, bidding farewell to the last of his teammates. She loved how they seemed so close to each other after what had happened in Bosnia. Losing Speed…a brother-in-arms like that had been hard on them.
He settled on his knees in front of her. “The guys told me I’d be a fool to not take the next step since we’ve been in love since we were kids.”
“Next step?” She seemed unable to take a full breath, a tingle slipping down her spine.
“Yeah.” He pulled out a ring box and opened it. A gorgeous round diamond was nestled in black velvet. “Will you marry me, Chrysanthe Steele? You are my heart and soul, and I can’t live without you.”
She stared at him for an instant, then sank down to her knees, her eyes stinging. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him like there was no tomorrow. 2-Stroke kissed her back just as fiercely.
“I can’t live without you either. Yes, so many yeses.”
Wrapping his arms right around her torso, he totally enveloped her and pressed his face against the top of her head.
When they parted, he took the ring out of the box and slipped it on her finger. They went into the house, made love, and afterward basked in the glow of their happiness.
“When do you have to go back?” she asked.
“Not until next week. We’ll have enough time to get settled before I get deployed again.”
In the past that would have scared her, but she knew there was nothing that could break this bond between them.