The Right to Bear Arms: BBW Military Paranormal Romance (Wild Operatives, #1) by Vivienne Savage Page A

clean, too. Maybe I was placing too much faith in him, but I believed it when he told me there had been no woman since his wife.
    “How are you so good with your hands?” I groaned out, tilting my head back and rocking my hips to the motion of his fingers.
    He didn’t answer. His thick cock brushed against my folds, and then his hips snapped forward. He buried himself within me in a single thrust, filling my body and making me whole again.
    Russ moved me away from the stove and faced me toward the wide island instead. I gripped the counter edge and bent over it. With this new position and his big cock, he penetrated deeper than I was accustomed to receiving. The unfamiliar sensation stirred something indescribable inside me, bouncing against the end of my tight channel without mercy. He introduced me to pleasure and pain, quick and bright sparks of discomfort that faded into bliss on every stroke.
    “I could spend the entire day like this with you, discovering every way I can make you scream.”
    “I love it when you talk that way.” My sweet boyfriend, the southern gentleman, said the sexiest things. Thank God we made it official to continue dating. I guided his free hand beneath my shirt to my breast. He circled his finger around the tip until it stiffened to a hard point. I wanted it in his mouth, and at the same time, I craved the way he took charge and claimed me from behind. With Russ, it wasn’t a demeaning position used to exert dominance over me. It was pure and primal lovemaking, his heavy balls slapping against my clit with each thrust.
    “You’re wearin’ too much to be in this house,” he muttered against my ear. His voice sent shivers through me, and before I could protest, he had grabbed the bottom of the t-shirt and tugged it up until I raised my arms to facilitate its loss.
    In the sunlight streaming through his kitchen windows, there was no hiding my imperfections. My curls tumbled over my bare shoulders and down my back. Through his glass patio doors, I could see only a faint hint of our reflection. His larger frame hovered above me from behind, a huge bear of a man and every bit the example of physical fitness. He made me appear tiny by comparison despite my thick curves.
    “You’re so beautiful, Daniela. Fuck.” He grabbed a handful of my ass and slapped it until it jiggled. “I love this.”
    I was already about to come, and he’d barely even started. My trembling thighs and tensed body were the first indication he received, and then on his next stroke, I orgasmed hard. My pussy clenched around his steel-hard length, milking him and urging him to join me. I felt him stiffen behind me, burying his face against my skin while stubbornly resisting the lure.
    “Russ, oh God, baby, please...”
    “Not yet, sweetheart.” He nibbled my shoulder and continued his slow strokes through my release. “I want you to do that again. I want you to come so hard for me that you’ll never want to wear another scrap of clothing in this house.”
    “Again?” My voice squeaked up an octave and earned his affectionate chuckle. An honest orgasm had come so rarely with Mike that I had become accustomed to faking it. Two climaxes in one session seemed like a fairy tale, despite my lover’s apparent experience. The promise of another orgasm made my body clench around him again in anticipation. He churned through it, teasing me with shallow dips and the occasional forward snap that planted him fully inside me. When those happened, my eyes rolled in my head and I almost fainted against the kitchen island.
    He pinched and teased my nipples, treating them to the textured tips of his fingers. The rough scrape of his callouses made me whimper out loud. “Russ... Russ...” I groaned low, rocking with and without him.
    Russell wasn’t satisfied until I was sobbing out his name and tightening around him anew. His long and deep strokes stimulated me in a wholly different way, angling against my cervix. The building