30. Thirty
Thirty
9-6-2024
It’s until death do us part. Even after that, I’ll follow my little devil into hell.
-Sam
I look at Jasmine, curled on the small cot beside my makeshift medical bed. I want to wake her and tell her that Tide has given us the go-ahead to return to base. However, I won’t mention that this decision is mainly because he’s still pissed about what happened and needs some space rather than wanting to make her run the length of the ship until she collapses from exhaustion.
Glancing at the clock, I huff in frustration. We’ve been on the ship for nearly forty-eight hours without any movement. Laura did an excellent job patching me up with the limited supplies she had, and fortunately, my healing time isn’t nearly as long as it would have been if I had taken another bullet. Still, I’m starting to feel restless. Moe took my phone, so I can’t check the cameras to see if anything has changed. I don’t care for watching television, so that’s not an option either. The IVs connected to my arm and the oxygen tube in my nose make it nearly impossible to move more than a few inches. Trust me, I’ve tried–multiple times–but each attempt ended with someone yelling at me to stay still and ‘rest.’
I don’t want to rest; I want to be home with my wife.
That thought sends an odd sensation down my spine, so I look at her again. Her lips are parted, and some hair falls over her face, blocking the beautiful view from my sight. I wanted to be angry at her for stealing the life that was mine to take when we arrived on the boat, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Something about seeing her covered from head to toe in blood and grime distracted me enough that all I could think about was how soon I could heal and make her look that way for entirely different reasons.
It suddenly feels too hot, so I push the blanket down to my waist and brush my hand over the bandages wrapped around my abdomen, up to my shoulder. I believe Laura said they’re in place to ensure the array of scrapes doesn’t get infected, and maybe something about a bone dislocation? Honestly, I don’t care. It’ll heal. Luckily, I’m the only one who walked out with what I would call minor injuries.
Delilah had a scare from the roof of one of the abandoned buildings while sniping. Jonathan walked away with barely a scrape, Jasmine had minor cuts and bruises, and Sharkie didn’t inhale nearly as much smoke as Cas’ made it seem. The rest of the people in that building… I huff a laugh. God, my little devil is psycho because most of them either fell from her hands or Delilah’s.
I gnaw at my lip, trailing my hand down over my abdomen as her shirt rides up with the shift she makes to get more comfortable on the cot. It’s just enough for me to spot the skin from her waist to her hips, but of course, her shorts cover anything else. I feel like I should be processing everything—rationalizing the events that have occurred—but in all reality, I’ve been through worse, so this doesn’t feel as life-altering as it should.
The only thing I can seem to focus on is Jasmine's ribs expanding with each breath she takes. No one has ever loved me the way she has. I remember the panic in her breathing as they pried her from my arms, the fight she put up to escape Sharkie's grasp and return to me, and the wail she let out when the building began to crumble. I growl and lean back into the pillow more aggressively than intended. I've never had nightmares—more like memories that don't frighten me but remind me of what I've been through. However, after that incident, I won’t admit it’s why I can’t sleep properly.
Everything in my body was burning—not from the heat around us but my sheer fright. I had to get to her, and with every push or pull of the concrete slab, it felt like that possibility was slipping through my fingers. At that moment, I knew it was my karma for all the sins I had committed in my life. My retribution was to watch the only thing that had ever stood by my side like an impenetrable force shatter before my eyes. I wasn't ready, though. I'm the reaper, for God's sake; I get to choose when my soul is ready to be long forgotten. With pure determination, I managed to turn my body just enough to help Cas and Jon, even if it meant injuring my shoulder in the process.
A quiet groan pulls me from my thoughts, and I glance at Jasmine, who swats hair from her eyes and gives me a sleepy glare. I realize my small temper tantrum must have woken her, and I can’t help but grin.
“Mornin’.” I chirp. She rests her head in her hands, and I feel a twinge of guilt for waking her, but it quickly fades.
“It’s not morning. It’s almost night.” She corrects me, and I roll my eyes, glancing at the ceiling instead of her.
“I’m sorry. I know you’re bored, but there’s not much I can do,” she whispers. I turn to her; she looks at me softly as she steps beside the bed to check the monitors.
“Turn them off,” I grumble, wrapping my hand around her wrist before she can step back with a stern expression. “I’m fine; I didn’t have a heart attack, so I don’t need them.”
“They’re necessary,” she insists. “You’re at risk for infection, and the oxygen is needed because of smoke exposure. It can affect your breathing and heart rate…”
She swats at my hand, but I’m not letting go.
“They're getting on my nerves.” I take a breath to calm the anger flaring up inside me. It's not directed at her by any means, but I just...
The constant beeping begins to pick up, and I groan in irritation.
“Tide told me I can't. I'm already in enough trouble,” she whispers as if he could hear her through the metal encasing. A sigh escapes her lips when her fingers brush through my hair. Maybe if I take a different approach, she can help me ease my spiraling thoughts.
“I’m proud of you for following commands. You’re doing amazing, but... just for a little while.” I mutter the words softly. She shifts on her feet, rubbing her thighs together at my praise, biting her bottom lip.
“Come on, Darlin’, it’s just one little sin added to your list.” Now I’m the one hoping Caspian can’t hear through the walls because I don’t think I’ve ever begged like that.
When she pulls away, I grasp for her clothing, but the fabric slips through my fingers. I don’t want her to leave me again—like the last time I was in this position.
“Jasmine…” I murmur, hating how it sounds like a plea more than some flirtatious act. I should probably call her by her real name, but it’s not her. I can’t say it and feel right when I know who she is.
She clicks the lock on the door, and I fight back a smile, letting it ghost across my features instead of fully revealing the genuine relief I feel from the action. She stops beside me again, shaking her head disapprovingly as she leans over. That sliver of skin peeks out from under her shirt at her hip, and I can’t help but grip her waist and pull her close enough that my other hand can join.
“Sam.” She hisses, trying to sound stern, but the grin on her face says otherwise as she clicks the monitors off. I finally feel like I can breathe without all the unnecessary noise.
“Yes, Darlin’?” I coo, tugging her until she hesitantly and awkwardly tries to slide onto the bed beside me. That’s not going to work—not when I’m throbbing and nearly desperate to have her closer. I pull her again, barely concealing my smirk as the plastic bed sheets crinkle with the motion of her body moving to straddle my hips.
There’s too much tension in her body as she supports most of her weight on her knees, refusing to lower herself fully. I huff in frustration.
“Don’t start. I don’t know how you expect me to get comfortable when all I can see is…” She gestures toward the wraps and around the room. Scanning her features, I run my tongue over my canine and glide my hands along her thighs and up her waist.
“Then don’t look at them.” Her expression turns deadpan at my words as she lets out a scoff.
“What am I supposed to do? Close my eyes?” She starts to take an attitude, so I raise an eyebrow and squeeze her ribs in warning before grazing my thumbs over the spot.
“Find something to distract yourself with.” I tilt my head against my pillow, showing how I’m distracting myself by focusing on her skin beneath my fingers. “You can talk, kiss me until you’re breathless, or do your impersonation of Sharkie.”
Her laugh vibrates against my palms, and she relaxes some of her weight. Bracing her hand on my chest, she hesitantly draws my dog tags into her grasp.
“What’s our next stop?” She whispers as she smooths her thumb over the engraved information on the metal, making her ring catch against the dim beam of a hanging swaying lamp.
“Home.” I grin as I brush my thumbs under the hem of her shirt, lifting the fabric to admire the smooth skin beneath. There are more bruises and scrapes from the past few days than I’d like to see.
“Home,” she repeats, her voice barely above a whisper, and finally relaxes completely against my lap. This feels better than just staring at the ceiling. Noticing that she’s taking my advice to distract herself, I try to keep the conversation going.
“Are you going to tell me about your family?”
She scrunches her nose as if I killed the mood, so I laugh and pull her shirt higher. She takes the hint and raises her arms, allowing me to remove the fabric.
“You’ve met them.”
I roll my eyes and toss the top to the floor. My hands fall back into place, brushing my thumbs under her breasts.
“You know what I mean.”
I want to know every detail about her that I’ve been denied for so long. I want to know what hurt her and made her into the woman I love. I want all of her.
“It’s not my story to tell anymore,” she whispers, twirling her fingers around the chain and gently tugging it so I have to raise my head to meet hers. I don’t like that answer one bit, so my jaw tightens.
Her nose brushes against mine as she adds, “I chose my life, which means I'm leaving the past behind.”
I understand her perspective, but I still hope to gather at least a small tidbit about her later. I want to know if she wore bows and read books or if she climbed trees and broke vases while growing up. I want to understand who made her feel so unworthy and unwanted so that I can prove to her, over and over again, that she is more than enough. I hum in contemplation.
“Is that okay?” A jolt of electricity shoots down my spine as her lips brush against mine. The little devil is teasing me. Of course, it's more than ‘okay’; I'm just a little stubborn. Ultimately, I can accept anything that will help her overcome all the awful things in the world.
“Then tell me about your future,” I mutter before pulling her bottom lip between my teeth, nipping the flesh hard enough that her knees tense at my waist, only to relax when I let it go.
“First, when we return, I will take my punishment like a champ–I’ll run my drills, accept any privileges taken from me, and prove that this is who I am and where I want to be.” Her free hand drops to my chest, her feather-light touch grazing over my skin, making the muscles in my abdomen tense as she glides her fingers lower.
“Then, I’m going to climb the ranks and carve out a place for myself on base—not just remain a shadow.”
I can help with that. Raising my hand, I drag my thumb over her bottom lip, grinning. Of course, I wouldn’t tell her if I played a part in getting her a higher rank. I know she thinks she needs to prove something, but I believe it’s more about her proving something to herself. With her performance on this mission, her subtle hidden talents, and her progress during her service, it won’t be hard to help Cas’ conclude that she deserves this.
Even if that doesn't work, I know Sharkie has her back. They're like the female version of me and Caspian. My focus drops to her fingers dipping into the elastic of my joggers, and I lift my hips as she lowers them, letting me spring free with a hiss.
“I’m going to become one of the important members. I’ll be bossing soldiers around, making decisions to help the team, and be a calling card when the world needs it.”
“I can’t wait to watch you every step of the way,” I murmur, leaning forward to try to catch her bottom lip between mine again, but she pulls back.
“I can see us having a lot of early mornings together, waking up by your side and kissing your chest before the wake-up call.”
Just as quickly as my growl builds in the back of my throat from her denial, it fades. I’ve never been so captivated by an idea. Most women dream of houses and babies, but her goals and dreams align with mine: to take it one day at a time. I suppose it helps that she already has the ring.
“What about nights?” I hum as I slip my fingers into the waistband of her shorts, and she shifts to help me take them off. I’d wince at the pressure her palm puts on my chest, but I’ve always enjoyed the pain.
“Depends,” she murmurs, glancing over her shoulder as if suddenly worried about someone walking in. My hand darts to her jaw, pulling her attention back to mine. I’ve never been good at the gentle approach—taking it slow and steady—but if that’s what she’s planning right now, then she will have all her focus on me.
“There’s no ‘depends’ about it.” I groan as she lowers, slotting my cock between her warm folds.
“You’ll spend your time looking at the stars.” I pull her closer and intertwine her fingers with mine, guiding her hand back to my dog tags. I've always loved it when she played with them.
“Whether it’s the stars in the sky or the ones I make you see…” My cocky laugh quickly turns into a groan as she rocks her hips, her cunt already dripping and slicking my dick, making a delicious friction.
“You think you make me see stars?” She teases and slips forward a little more, making my tip catch her cunt.
Placing a gentle kiss on my lips, she abruptly sits up, raising her weight so I can't feel her pussy begging for me anymore and wrapping my tags into her fist, “I already told you, you’re not God, so stop acting like him.”
"Jasmine," I warn, but she just shakes her head, laughing in a way that sets all my nerve endings on fire. I fucking love that sound. I drop my hands to her hips, trying to pull her weight back down, but the flex of my muscles strains the IVs against the pressure.
“If you were God, you'd live in heaven, and I don't belong there.” She whispers, sending a shiver up my spine as she slips her hand between us, gripping my cock at the base to guide me against her waiting hole.
“But I do belong with you, so sin with me.” She gasps as I stretch her cunt with my tip.
“Be my Reaper, not my God.” She murmurs and rocks slowly, enveloping me in her tight heat. For once, that damn callsign doesn't make my jaw clench but instead makes it slacken.
A horn bellows, and it's almost as if Jasmine's body sways, but it doesn't seem to distract her from the easing lift she makes. A rumble vibrates my chest as she tucks her lip beneath her teeth and slams back down, taking me as far in as she can with a slight furrow in her brows.
“Fuckin’ hell, you're a greedy little thing.” I groan, and she huffs dramatically, rolling her hips in a tight circle. She's gorgeous like this, features flushed down to her chest. Tits swaying and bouncing as she finds a steady rhythm, holding onto me like I'm the one driving her insane.
In an attempt to touch more than the same pieces of skin I've already memorized, my hands raise to cup her breast, but the tubes and needles linked to my flesh have my arms falling to her thighs instead. I growl, throwing my head back in frustration. It's like dealing with restraints and the thought nearly has me softening. Those are something we’ll likely never use.
“I am.” she agrees, but her response is so delayed that I'm half tempted to ignore it, as my hazy brain can't keep up. I'm pulled back from my thoughts by her hand bracing beside my head while her other hand tugs at my chains, forcing me to focus on her face, now so close to mine.
It's as if she sensed me slipping like she always does. My lip is pulled between her teeth, and she drags her clit against my pelvis, making her whimper vibrate my skin. Her breath falls heavily with mine as she releases it.
“Can you give me the control just for a little bit?”
As badly as I want to keep the control of bouncing her on my cock I also know I’m limited. Something warms in my chest, knowing she’d ask, though. That she’d take into consideration the way my head works.
“Take my cock. Use it. Own it. Do whatever the fuck you want. ”
The chain of my tags bites into my neck as she tightens her grip. Her lashes flutter, but my nails bite into her skin, forcing her attention on mine and making her hips slow.
“On one condition.” I hold her steady as I speak. She gasps and wiggles like she can’t stand the thought of staying still. My teeth nearly grind at the hold she has around my dick as if already trying to milk me dry when I know it’s likely from being too full.
“Turn around. I want to watch you use my cock like your own personal toy.”
Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, and I shift my grip to her bicep, making those perfectly lush tits press firm against my chest and her nose brush against mine. Even as she tries to kiss me, I won’t let her. Turning my head, I press a chaste kiss to her collarbone instead, dragging my nose up the length of her neck until I whisper in her ear. “I want to watch you take everything from me.”
I nip at her neck, and as soon as my fingers loosen, she turns around and quickly settles back down onto me faster than I can process. The way her walls flutter and clench nearly makes my eyes roll back in my head, but I can't look away. Her palms land between my thighs, arching her back, giving me the perfect view of how her cunt swallows me whole.
“That’s it. Good girl.” Groaning, I push my hand under the back of my head, ignoring the clatter it makes as it pulls the monitor against the bed rail, and raise my other to rub that perfect art on her arse while she starts slow. Rolling her hips in a way that has me feeling like I’m nearly hitting her cervix.
“Being such a good little slut for your husband.” I huff, and she picks up pace, clenching my cock. It's hard not to let go and just fill her hole with the way each bounce has the flesh rippling, creating a gorgeous sight mixing with the moans she’s trying to bite back and the erotic view of her juices thoroughly soaking my lap.
There’s no way I can hold back for long if she keeps it up like this.
I try to think of anything else—the process of taking a gun apart, how many letters are in the word disembodiment—but no matter what I try, I can’t focus on anything but how damn good she feels and how her moans have turned into desperate whines and cries.
“That’s it, Darlin’.” I pant, my thighs flexing in an attempt to restrain myself from fucking up into her. “Take it all. I belong to you.”
“Sam…” She whines, and her knees spread wider, gaining more leverage to stroke me with her cunt. It's a sight I could easily get used to. Watching my dick disappear and reappear wetter than before, swollen and bulging.
“And you belong to me.” I gasp, trying to hold onto the thin thread of restraint I have left. Incoherent jumbling words fall from her lips, and her hips stutter, so I grip her arse, tempted to help her movements but refrain for the moment.
“You've been mine since the day I found you.”
“Please bounce me on your cock.” She mewls, and I can't fight back the string of curses that leaves my mouth from that filthy sentence coming from her sweet lips.
“You better come all over my dick like a good little wife.” I groan, and in an instant, I'm throwing her arse against my hips, relishing how she so easily hands over her body, knowing ill take care of her.
Within a few strokes, I’m grunting and groaning, filling her with everything I have to offer, but I don't slow, even as the tremors that wrack my spine spread into my hands, making my fingers go numb, and my knuckles turn white against the pink flesh of her arse.
“Almost there, Darlin’. You're almost there.” I pant, and my eyes screw shut, knowing if I continue to watch my come leak out of her to coat my cock, I’ll be making her go again. “I've got you.”
As soon as the words fall through my hoarse breathing, her hips are jerking into the air, and I’m slamming her back down. Each pulse and flutter of her walls has my thighs trembling and my teeth digging into my cheek hard enough I can taste copper trying to fight the overstimulation.
“G-good girl.” I try to form the praise, but her pussy clenches again, making my words get caught in my throat. I half expect her to collapse into a puddle right then, but her head hanging limply between her shoulders tilts back towards the ceiling, and she calms her breathing.
Loosening my grip, I nudge her hips, wanting her to turn so I can hold her.
We need to talk about letting me take care of her sometimes. It feels like all air is ripped from my lungs when my cock slips limply from her hole, and a mess trails onto my thighs as she shifts to sprawl across my chest shakily.
“Sorry,” she whispers, shifting her weight to one hand beside my head like she has hurt me. As she reaches for my monitor, I wrap my arms around her waist, probably holding her tighter than I should.
“Just let me hold you.” my words muffle into her skin as I bury my head into her neck.
“I need to turn them back on,” she laughs breathlessly.
I grunt in response, “My heart rate is too high. They’ll go off.”
Even as she shifts to try and click the buttons, my hold doesn't loosen. I’ll face the consequences, but I don’t want to lie in my bed alone anymore. Not when I can have a wife by my side.
“Okay, no monitors, but I don’t want to kink a line.” She laughs as I lift and toss her playfully. Giggling, she settles against my shoulder while I hold her thigh and let her leg rest over my lap.
“I’m not worried about a bloody IV line. The only thing that’ll kill me is losing you.” I mumble into her hair, feeling my eyes drift shut. God, I’m exhausted now, and the fact that her hair smells as delightful as always doesn’t help at all.
“You’ll never lose me,” she says.
I pull back to try to focus on what she’s saying, but her eyes are closed, and her fingers are tracing delicate circles on my chest.
She better believe the words she says. I’ve said it a thousand times before, and I’ll say it a billion more:
It’s until death do us part. Even after that, I’ll follow my little devil into hell.