The Alpha Bodyguards Books #1-3

Chapter Eighteen

“F uck me, please ,” she begged .

I thrust. Hard.

My cock driving my actions, I ground against her bare pussy, silently cursing the material of my pants between us.

“Say it again,” I demanded, justifying my actions, telling myself she wanted exactly what I was offering. That she wanted my cock inside her tight pussy as much as I wanted to fucking be there. Because, goddamn , I wasn’t thinking she was like every other woman anymore.

I was stupidly, foolishly, idiotically thinking she was that one in a million.

And I wanted a taste.

“Please,” she pleaded, arching her back. “Fuck me, fuck me .”

I was undoing my belt before the word please finished crossing her lips. The hand that I’d let go of started coasting down my back and I grabbed it. “Arms above your head,” I warned, reaching for my 9mm and pulling it out of my holster to set on the nightstand.

Writhing under me, she was acting like she wanted everything I was gonna give her, but when she saw the gun, she stilled.

I pushed off her and reached for my shirt. “Problem?”

“Is it loaded?”

What the fuck? “Is your pussy wet?” I pulled my polo over my head.

Her gaze cut back to mine, then drifted down my chest. Arms above her head, her knees bent, her cunt waiting, she swallowed. “Have you ever shot anyone?”

I kicked off my boots and tossed my cell and keys on the nightstand. “ You expecting small talk?” I didn’t discuss my service. With anyone. Not even my brothers who served beside me. They knew what the fuck we dealt with.

Her eyes darted back to mine. “That’s small talk?”

Calculating, slow, I dragged my gaze over her full tits then her slick pussy. My dick throbbed at the thought of sinking inside that tight heat. “Turn over,” I commanded. “On your hands and knees.”

She inhaled. Then her voice went quiet. “I want to look at you.”

For a split second I didn’t fucking move. My dick hard, my mouth watering to taste that wet cunt, I stood there.

She didn’t want to look at me.

She wanted to believe in misplaced hope.

She wanted to be that one magic pussy that turned me from who I was into what she wanted.

Fuck.

Fuck.

I knew what I needed to say. Fuck, I knew what I needed to do, and that was walk the hell out before I took it too goddamn far. I’d already taken it too far. But I wasn’t doing a damn thing to stop it. I was fucking staring at a woman I didn’t want to admit was the most beautiful woman I’d ever had naked. Except she’d get attached the second I fucked her, and I didn’t do attached. But all I could think about was making that pussy mine and never letting another man look at her how I was looking at her right now.

But damn it, I didn’t keep women.

I never fucking kept them.

My voice rough, my head fucked-up, I barked out an order. “Turn over.”

She nervously pulled her bottom lip into her mouth before releasing it and inhaling. “Is that what you do?”

What the fuck? “Did I tell you to talk?”

She kept at it. “You issue orders, pretend not to care, and fuck women from behind so you don’t have to look at them? ”

Goddamn it . “Who says I’m not looking?”

She ignored my question. “Why? So you can stay detached? Is that your recipe for the perfect life? Mindless screwing of faceless women?”

Thirty-fucking-four years old and I didn’t have a comeback for a young-as-shit, sexually inexperienced actress. No goddamn response.

And that pissed me off.

Hard core.

Shoving my pants down, I gripped my hard cock. “You wanna fucking look?” Glaring at her, I stroked myself. “Then look.”

Her gaze held mine for a moment, then slow, she took me in as her eyes roamed over my chest.

My dick in my hand, I fucking waited.

Her gaze dropped lower until she finally looked at my cock.

I stroked myself.

Her lips parted on an inhale. “You’re so big.”

Fuck her. She wasn’t going to get me to surrender that easily. Compliments meant nothing to me. I knew who the fuck I was. I stroked myself again. “Two choices,” I warned.

She stared at my cock and licked her lips. “What?”

“We fuck my way, or not at all.” Fuck her detachment bullshit. She’d get hers.

Her eyes shot to mine. “You’re angry?”

Shit clouded my head. She clouded my head. “Answer the question,” I demanded.

“It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.”

Jesus fucking Christ. “Make a decision.”

Innocent and doe-eyed, but also firm, she spoke. “I already made it.”

Women didn’t challenge me. I used them, and they got what they wanted. I wasn’t detached. I purposely kept my distance. There was a difference. I didn’t have time or any fucking desire to share my bed on the regular. Being an active duty Marine left no room for it, and what I did now wasn’t much better. My game plan didn’t include a woman on a permanent basis. I was Falcon Gunther. I flew solo .

I always had.

But for the first time in my life, the woman on her back in front of me had me thinking about repeats. I hadn’t even fucked her and I wanted more.

More of her mouth. More of her bullshit. More of her.

My mouth opened and I asked the last thing I should’ve. “You clean?”

Her eyebrows drew together. “Seriously, you’re—”

“Because I am.” I wore a condom religiously. But right now, I’d move mountains not to have to. “You ever been fucked bareback?”

Shit crossed her expression, and her chest rose and fell rapidly. “I could get….” She trailed off.

My chest tightened at the thought. “Period?”

“Um.” She bit her bottom lip and closed her legs.

I dropped my voice. “Spread your legs, Audrina.”

She complied, instantly.

It was the straw.