Hung

by Holly Hart

  I melt into his kiss, closing my eyes and pressing myself into his broad, muscular chest. As much as I'm falling into him, a small part of me is holding back – not emotionally, but physically. Maybe it's the nurse part of me, but I'm uncomfortably aware that he got shot in the leg only a few weeks ago, and the last thing I want is for his stitches to open up right now.

  He breaks away, and his mouth dances away from my lips, still eagerly seeking his. I open my eyes, confused. "You're right," he says with a smile on his face, "we shouldn't do this out here."

  He pushes me back and joins me inside my room.

  "So, you're inviting yourself in?" I ask, a small smile curling around my lips.

  "Oh," he pouts back, "I was under the impression you'd invited me in. I mean, I can go if you want…" He leaves the question hanging, knowing that I'm going to be forced to give him the answer he wants.

  That doesn't mean I need to do it quickly… I leave him hanging, changing my expression slightly to look a little more downcast, and then leave him spinning on the rope for just another couple of seconds – just long enough that he begins to think I'm serious.

  And then I wink.

  "Come on, then." I grin, beckoning him in, properly this time. "Can I get you anything?" I ask, turning away from him to walk over to a little miniature fridge that sits alongside my meager store of possessions, more out of habit than anything else, since I'm pretty sure it's empty.

  He spooks me, growling into my ear. "You."

  It's so simple, just one word, and then he's spinning me around, not waiting for my response. His lips meet mine again, less hurried and more insistent now that there's no risk of an audience. Especially since we've got Jake guarding outside. The thought crosses my mind that it's going to look pretty odd if anyone walks in and sees a dog standing guard outside my bedroom, but the thought's gone in seconds as I feel Mike's strong, powerful hands gripping my thighs.

  He smells like hard work – not unpleasant, by any means, but musky, as though he's been working in the fields. My fingers tuck themselves into his canvas belt, and I pull him closer to me, like trying to make sure he can't escape.

  Not that I think he's got any plans of doing that…

  My cheek grazes against the light stubble on his chin as I turn in to another long, passionate kiss, pressing my face against his like it's going out of fashion. His hands are rampant, roaming across my body like we've been lovers for months. He's definitely not acting like this is only our second kiss, far from it, and I love it. His self-confidence, his complete assurance in his actions, is as intoxicating as it is exhilarating, and I find myself feeding off his enthusiasm in a way I've never tried before.

  I grip him firmly by the belt, simultaneously pulling him into me again and pulling up his white crewneck T-shirt, the only thing he's wearing on his upper body. I get my first sight of his toned, powerful flesh.

  The first sight since I saw him stripped naked on the operating table, anyway. This is better, much better. He's filled out; getting back to proper food and not having to hike up and down thousands of feet of mountainous hills every day seems to be doing him a world of good. His strong, powerful abs aren't quite as angular as they were the first time I saw them exposed like this, but his strong, toned stomach looks – if anything – firmer and more powerful than ever before. I rest my right hand on his stomach, desperate to touch it.

  He growls into my ear. Not words, just an expression of insensate desire. His stubble grazes my ear and I shiver yet again, biting his lip to express my approval.

  "The bed," I say, not trusting my brain to come up with anything more complicated than that. He gets the message, and we dance our way across my room, feet locked in step with each other, my hand still resting on his muscular stomach, his on my waist. We could be performers in some passionate Spanish dance, but judging by how it feels, I think it would probably be too X-rated to do in public.

  He pushes me backwards onto the bed, and I trust that he's picked the right spot, allowing my body to go limp, falling backwards onto the mattress. He lowers himself down, supporting himself with his strong, powerful arms, and crawls on top of me.

  "How is it," he grins, "that you nurses get all the good stuff?"

  "What do you mean?" I ask, confused – he's put me off balance again, he seems to have quite a habit of doing that.

  "The bed," he says, and then gestures around, "and the room. You should see where us grunts have to sleep…"

  "I have, or don’t you remember?" I interject, with what I hope is an alluring expression on my face.

  His mouth dives back to mine, nibbling and nipping gently at my lip in an unceasing, relentless attack that I'm only too happy to be subject to, parrying and whirling back with nibbles and bites of my own. His hands roam all around my body, uncontested and wild in their fervent desire. He's good at this; his hand sweeps in one long stroke from where my shoulder meets my torso down the side of my stomach, tracing the curvature of my head, and then down the back of my legs, tickling and lightly scratching the whole way down.

  And he doesn't stop. As soon as he reaches the bottom of my calf, his hand begins its long, invigorating journey back up, this time grazing my ass, lightly raking his fingernails across my flat, toned stomach and up to my breasts, lingering for just a second on the hard, fiery points of my nipples.

  I push up, grabbing his ass with both my hands, and pull him back into me. He's as turned on as I am – it's pretty clear by the thick package between his legs – he's hiding nothing and he's got a lot to show. I let one of my hands slowly trace its way to Mike's front, stroking across the durable material of his combat pants, and then slowly coming to rest, cupping his cock.

  He shivers, making no secret of how pleasurable it feels. He stops his rampant assault of kisses, just for a second, to look directly into my eyes and ask, wordlessly – is it time?

  I nod, and he doesn't hesitate for a second, ripping off my tank top in one swift move and discarding it somewhere out of my sight. I make as if I'm about to cover up my breasts with my arms, slightly embarrassed at how plain my bra is, but he smiles and his strong arms firmly remove the barrier I'm trying to erect as though it's made out of balsa wood.

  He rolls, putting me off-balance, and I end up on top of him, with him underneath. I’m straddling him now, my ass now resting directly on top of his thick cock, only a few layers of fabric between our naked skin.

  I can feel the heat of his package radiating between my legs, meeting my own heat, now taking on a life of its own, a heat which starts driving me forward, all sense of rational thought extinguished. I hook my hands underneath his T-shirt again, gripping the soft white fabric between my palm and forefingers, and urgently, desperately, pulling up and over his head, my turn now to throw it somewhere out of sight.

  His skin is smooth, but underneath the soft covering of dark chest hair, it's weathered, and I can tell he's still not fully recovered from his ordeal – not the injury, the shooting, but the months he spent living on some forward operating base at the top of the hill, eating reheated rations and constantly expecting an attack.

  I run my hands through his chest hair, rolling the strands between my fingers, and lower my lips to his chest, kissing it softly. He’s not moving now, just watching what I'm doing, and makes me feel not only that I'm on show – but also that I'm wanted and desired.

  I stretch upward, planting a kiss on his lips, and use the opportunity to guide my hands towards his belt, using the left to drag the length of canvas out from the belt loop and the right to unbuckle it.

  As I do so, I feel his hands climbing gently up the side of my stomach, higher, and then looping back behind me. He unclasps my bra in one easy, practiced movement, and slips it off with the other hand, tossing it onto the floor. The cool air of my room dances across my hot, fiery nipples, and I gasp slightly with the tiny, unexpected pleasure.

  He places a hand on the back of my head, grabbing a handful of hair, and pulls me down toward
s him for another kiss, but I resist just long enough to undo the zipper on his pants. I hear two thumps, one slightly after the other, as his boots fall gently to the ground, and we roll all over again as he frees up some space to squeeze out of his pants.

  It's their turn to fall to the ground, and then he's crouching over me, completely naked, barring the white bandage strapped around his thigh. There's an outline, ever so faint, of blood. I touch it, a tear tickling the corner of my eye.

  "Are you okay? We can stop…"

  "No," he replies, his eyes wild with desire. I don't know if he even feels any pain, not right now, anyway, and that knowledge turns me on more than anything I could have expected – knowing that I have that affect on him is unsettling and unexplainable, but undeniably intoxicating. He crawls forward, coming towards me, and I think he's going to kiss me, but he doesn't, not on my lips, anyway. He takes a nipple, my right nipple, in between his lips and rolls his tongue around it, sending a shock of electricity running across my chest.

  I arch my back with the unexpected pleasure and moan delicately under my breath.

  "Did you like that?" he growls in his patented voice of desire, and I nod desperately in assent. He dives back down, his stubbled chin grazing the soft, delicate skin underneath my breasts, his mouth attacking my right nipple with reckless abandon. I'm wet, soaking wet, and the heat between my legs is building to a crescendo. I need him inside me, but the assorted sensations of his hands roaming around my body, the electric feeling of desire between my legs and the sparks pouring from my nipples as his mouth works on them all combines to make it hard, almost impossible, for me to concentrate.

  I fight the desire to clench my thighs together, to squeeze them until the building heat between my legs reaches a climax, and instead spread them, inviting him in.

  He doesn't need a second invitation.

  He pulls my scrubs off, and I notice with astonishment that my sneakers aren't on my feet anymore. I have no recollection of when they came off, but I don't have even a second to consider it because I’m suddenly naked, and he's on top of me, his hard cock pressing into my thigh.

  I grab it, gently stroking it with my right hand, and he gasps into my ear like I've stolen his breath.

  I lean towards him and whisper into his ear, as if finally granting him permission, "Come on."

  He looks at me, and in one swift movement plunges his cock between my thighs, my hand guiding him in the whole way. The slit between my legs is slick with desire, and he slides in effortlessly, gliding in as the muscles of his ass contract, and he plunges his cock into me as far as it'll go. My entire body shudders as the huge, thick cock stretches me from inside out, almost seeming to press against the firm wall of my stomach as he thrusts it inside me.

  I sigh with pleasure, feeling complete, and my hands grip his lower back as though I'm worried he's going somewhere.

  He's not. He nibbles my ear and then hoists his considerable, muscular weight up so he’s supported by his arms and shoulders, which are popping and rippling in front of my eyes, the muscle underneath the skin straining delightfully to my eyes. He starts thrusting, slowly at first, in long strokes, and I'm already so turned on that there's nothing I can do except enjoy them.

  My eyes roll back into their sockets, eyelids closed, and I can see little stars, little white speckles of light moving across the darkness of my vision, shuddering and jittering every time Mike's powerful, thick cock crashes back into me.

  I lean up, moaning, to kiss him on his chest and taste the salty sheen of sweat covering his skin as a droplet of liquid falls onto my tongue and spreads out. My movement changes the angle, and his cock is suddenly thrusting directly against my most sensitive spot.

  I moan once again, the sound startling against the backdrop of two individuals frantically panting in exertion, my breath ragged and jerking, changing every time he thrusts his cock inside me, catching every time he fills me up and releasing in a disappointed groan every time he backs out, his smooth, controlled and deep – in time with his strokes.

  I open my eyes, see his closed, see him grimacing with pleasure, his jaw locked, and flickers of movement crossing his face unbidden every time he thrusts into me. I can't be sure, but I get the sense that he's not going to last much longer, and truth be told – nor am I. I squeeze my thighs together, compressing the flesh, and squeezing the heat between my legs into a smaller, more confined space. I gasp, heady with delight as I reach my climax.

  He starts speeding up, close to his, and his breath is ragged now, too, and he's crashing into me with unbelievable force, the hard flesh of his cock grinding against my mound every time, and I close my eyes again, and this time the stars meld into one, so it's just one unending sphere of white light.

  He thrusts into me one last time and his entire body goes rigid, every muscle suddenly completely tense, and then, finally, he collapses onto me, spent. The aftershocks are crashing through my body, what seems like endless streams and sparks of electricity still dancing around the hot, engorged thickness of his cock between my legs.

  I feel his breath tickling my chest, his skin touching mine, and sense his heart beating beneath his ribs.

  I thread my hand in between his soft, curly hair, and this time it's my turn to pull him in for a kiss.

  "Holy shit," I say, since it's only thing that comes to mind. He opens his eyes, looking at me, and I can tell he agrees.

  Chapter Ten - Mike

  I lie next to Katie, my hand idly tracing a path down the side of her torso. It's not sexual – at least, not intentionally so – but nevertheless, I love seeing the little shivers and reactions in my lover's body as I tickle her soft, sensitive skin. I grasp a breast, fingers marking the slight crease where the delectable mounds meet her chest, and she sighs with pleasure.

  "I've never felt this way about any other girl," I say – surprising myself with the honesty of my words.

  "Oh, shut up," Katie says with an embarrassed grin on her face, and half slaps away my wandering hands. Not hard enough to dissuade me, though…

  "No – I'm serious," I protest, "I'm not messing with you. I don't know how many other women would be okay with, well, this –" I indicate my scarred body. "I can't imagine how hard it must have been for you to see me lying half dead in that helicopter. I owe you my life."

  Katie opens her eyes and looks at me, gazing directly into my pupils. "I would have done that for anyone…" she says with a fiendish grin on her face.

  "Yeah, but you didn't just do it for anyone, did you – you did it for me. And even if you don't want to congratulate yourself, you've got to let me thank you. Well, you can't stop me, at any rate."

  I grab one of her ample breasts in my right hand and tweak her nipple cheekily, aiming to drive home the point, and only succeeding in stiffening hers… The thought suddenly strikes me that Katie's breasts seem somehow larger than they were the last time I ended up in bed with her – as though they've somehow grown in the meantime. I don't really think about it, presuming that maybe she's not been doing as much running recently, now she's spending more time with me.

  I leave my left hand cradling her left breast and allow my right to continue on its meandering journey down her naked body, only moving my fingers across her skin slowly – perhaps even tortuously slowly.

  I can sense something's different, now that my eyes have been opened. I don't know how I could have missed it – Katie's positively glowing; she's radiant.

  My breath quickens, and I allow my hand to abandon its slow passage down Katie's body, deciding instead to go with a quicker route – straight down. I need to confirm whether my suspicions are, in fact, correct. But first, I need to find out if I'm the only one Katie's been with, or whether there have been others. I don't believe that a girl like Katie would sleep around, and I'm hesitant to ask, but I've got a right to know – if my suspicions are correct, that is.

  "Katie…" I venture.

  "Yes?" she asks, gradually opening one eye as though sh
e's about to drop off to sleep. "What is it?"

  "You can slap me any time you want, but can I ask you something?"

  "Anything – you know that," she says.

  I feel like what I'm about to ask is so potentially relationship damaging, and quite frankly – so rude – that I need to warn her about it. If it was any other girl, I wouldn't bother – I've slept through dozens back home at Fort Bragg, but Katie's different. She's special, she's smart – and she deserves to know.

  "I'm serious about you slapping me," I say. "I need to ask you something, something serious – and I'm pretty sure you're not going to like it…"

  "Well," she says, propping herself up on her elbows and staring at me as though I'm a blundering idiot for asking her these weird questions, "spit it out – the question isn't going to ask itself, is it?"

  "I guess not," I say, a red flush of embarrassment suffusing my face. "I need to know something – were you, you know…" I pause – completely unable to get the words out. I don't know how something so small as asking a question can be so difficult, when charging into battle is so easy… "With anyone while I was out in the field? I wouldn't blame you if you were or anything – I just want to know.”