He presented me with a small piece of pineapple in his fingers. Confused, I reached for it, he pulled it away, smiling softly and shaking his head. I dropped my hand and he offered it again. "Open your beautiful mouth," he murmured. I did as bid and felt him slide the fruit onto my tongue. Curling my tongue around the pineapple, I sucked on his fingers as he pulled them from my lips. He purred deep in his chest, in satisfaction.
For the next few moments, it was silent in the cabin. He would take a bite of some tidbit, then feed the rest to me. He had an absorbed, intense look in his eyes, as if this act of feeding me required utter concentration. Suddenly, he dropped to his knees in front of me and pressed gentle lips to mine. I could taste the sweet breakfast of pineapples and papaya that we'd just shared. He kissed me thoroughly with his lips, tongue and some part of himself that he seemed so intent on giving me. The sweet warmth brought the pricking of tears to my eyes.
He pulled away, smiling down at me, then rose to his feet. Taking my hand, he helped me stand. He leaned forward a moment, giving me another long, lingering kiss, then tugged me gently back to the bed. There is a difference between sex and lovemaking. The night before we shared an intense, primal sex, a wild mating. This morning he made love to me. Softly and slowly, as if our hours weren't numbered.
I curled my fingers around the back of his head, sinking them into his hair, while he slowly sprinkled kisses on a long, wet path from my lips to the valley between my breasts. His hands came up to cup them, brushing his thumbs over my nipples and softly teasing them to hardness. He twisted his head to one side, resting his cheek on one breast and gently nibbling on the inner slope of the other. I groaned, arching into him, demanding more petting.
He took his time loving my breast, enjoying all of its curves and slopes before moving to the nipple. He suckled and kissed my nipple so thoroughly that the other one was hard and throbbing from the lack of attention. When he touched the tip of my neglected nipple with his wet tongue, I cried out sharply from the sudden heat that shot directly to my pussy.
He shuddered, groaned deep in his chest, then took my lips with a ferocity that startled me, as if he couldn't get enough of me. Mewling in the back of my throat, I arched up into him, kissing him back with my lips, tongue and my entire body, returning the full measure of his possession. His fingers went back to my breasts, plucking delicately at the nipples, then soothing them with long, feathery caresses. Dropping his head back down, he nipped at the inner swell of one breast, then swiped is tongue back over the nipple.
Taking his erection in hand, he brushed the tip of it across the wet folds of my labia. Gently prying with his fingers, he opened the lips and let them settle around the head. We remained that way for an eternal moment, his lips kissing my breast and my the lips of my sex kissing the tip of his. He lifted his head from my wet nipple and locked his eyes with mine. I could see the question in their depths, the burning need to hear the words even before he opened his mouth to ask for them.
"Who do you belong to, sir?" I asked before he could say anything, startling myself and him. The pupils of his eyes contracted, then expanded. His body twitched and I wiggled, gasping in reaction. I had intended to give him the words he wanted, not ask him a question I hadn't even known I wanted to ask. Now that I'd asked it, he would have to answer me, eventually.
"Wright," he warned. I stared up at him, my eyes clear and implacable. For a moment, he grimly locked his eyes with mine, shadows flitting in their depths. He turned his head away, thrusting deep inside of me in the same breath. We both groaned, melting into the sudden frisson of heat from our joining.
"Who do you belong to, sir?" I twisted my hips from side to side, what little I could move under his weight.
"Don't push me, private," he snarled, thrusting savage once, then twice.
"Don't push me, sir." Measure for measure. I'd be damned before I let him back me down without a fight.
Something vulnerable flitted through his eyes, almost like an uncertainty, a softening of some sort that I didn't understand. He needed me in a basic way.
"I belong to you, sir," I stated suddenly, knowing how much he needed the words, and admitting how much I needed to say them. Briefly, I wondered what had happened to me. With his erection fully sheathed within me, slowly rubbing in and out unhurriedly, I wondered what had happened. Two days ago I was the me I'd always been. Bold, brash, and taking no prisoners. Now I was putting myself entirely in the hands of the Major, letting him not merely possess me, but to own me.
He had closed his eyes, his forehead pressed to mine, I could see as well as feel him savoring my body. Eventually, he started moving, a long, slow stroking of his cock along the full length of my pussy. His eyes fluttered open, and locked on mine. I could see each delineation in the fringe of color surrounding his deep pupils. "I belong to you, sir," I reiterated fiercely. He groaned again, his eyes closing for a moment, then locking on mine again. "Who do you belong to, sir?"
His jaw clenched and a muscle ticked, he paused a moment in his taking of me, then resumed it with a sweet ferocity that told me wordlessly what I wanted to know. Wrapping my arms and legs around him, I accepted what he chose to give me.
Rocking slowly on top of me, undulating his body back and forth with the slow gentle movements of an ancient loving, he pressed his lips to mine and gave me his kiss. Something poignantly sweet passed between us at that moment. Our bodies locked together, joined in the most elemental way, our lips clinging, silently giving something precious to the other. I shivered, suddenly surprised by my orgasm. My body trembled and I clung tightly to him, holding him as I climaxed from deep within me. He murmured something, then stiffened, having his own.
He left me for a while, pulling on his shorts and running shoes again, and went for a long run. He was disturbed, introspective and broody when he left. Odd that I could sense the shift in his mood even though I'd only been with him for a couple of days. It was nearly time for us to leave this cabin, and the end of our time together. With tears once again pricking me painfully at the back of my eyelids, I went about the business of gathering things up and setting the cabin back to rights. Picking up the shredded remains of the beautiful peignoir, I pressed it to my nose, inhaling deeply, the mingled scents of his body and mine flooded my nostrils. Looking around furtively, I stuffed it into my bag, I never wanted to forget these moments that I had with my Major.
I was still naked when he returned, uncomfortably waiting for his permission to don my clothing. It didn't sit well with me still, this submission that I'd agreed to. I wasn't used to needing permission and approval from my lovers, I wasn't used to needing at all. I don't know what scared me more, the submitting or the needing. He stepped into the cabin quietly, smiling a little when he saw me perched on a chair, waiting for him.
"C'mere," he said, holding out his hand. I followed him to the small showering facility and waited patiently while he removed his clothes.
Once in the shower, he wrapped himself around me, cheek on the top of my head, and simply held me. Shutting my eyes, I let myself fall into the fantasy that we would do this forever, him and me, together. That was dangerous thinking, my Major was not for me. After this was over he would go back to his bachelor officer's quarters and I would go to my bachelor enlisted quarters and we would only cross paths professionally.
The tiny hot water tank ran through its supply before I was ready to let him go. Regretfully, I backed away from him as the water began turning lukewarm. He shut it off with a curse while I reached for the soap and a washcloth. Since the washcloth was soaked, it was easy enough to build a rich, thick lather, one that I intended to rub onto him. He silently watched me, waiting to see what I would do, no doubt. Hesitantly, suddenly shy and irrationally fearing rejection, I lifted a trembling hand to the center of his chest, pressing the washcloth over his heart.
His heart skipped a beat and he sucked in a deep breath when I began to scrub. I could feel every plane and angle of his body through the washcloth, his skin burned me through it. I slowly went over his chest, shoulders and back, fascinated with the play of white lather on his tanned skin. His eyes never left me and his fists clenched, a testament to the strength of his desire and the power of his restraint. I felt like I was in a small cubicle with a caged tiger, one that was caged only by his will.
Dragging the cloth down his arm, I reached a fist, which he slowly relaxed. I paused a moment, feeling the sudden overwhelming urge to tell him, or show him in some way how much I'd been touched by him. My lips parted, but I couldn't think of anything to say. Instead, I felt my knees begin to give. Once again, my pride rushed to the surface, I did not kneel before anyone. Somehow, he sensed something. He lifted my head with a single finger on my chin and smiled softly down into my face, then leaned forward and kissed me lightly on the lips, a little peck that told me it was okay, he understood.
I looked down again, at his feet, then tugged his hand up, pressing the back of it between my breasts, and took a deep breath. He waited, saying nothing and unmoving, for me. I bowed my head, pressing a kiss to his knuckles, then gracefully sank to my knees. In the space of a few heartbeats my submission to him had changed from something he required of me to something I freely gave to him. Picking up the washcloth again, I carefully cleaned each finger of each hand, lovingly stroking each digit before moving on to his legs and feet. Kneading the firm muscles of his ass, I soaped it, then moved around to clean his burgeoning erection.
After I'd finished, I sank back, sitting on my heels, keeping my head bowed, the washcloth in my lap. He twisted the spigots and the water rushed out again, beating over his back. I could feel the coldness under my legs before it began to warm up. He rinsed himself off leisurely, I kept my head bowed, kneeling at his feet, avoiding the over spray. Moments later I heard the squeak of the faucet and the water cut off. Silence, except for the draining water, reigned. I lifted my head, blinking, to see his cock, now fully erect, within inches of my nose. Without thinking, I opened my mouth, curled my tongue around the head, and pulled it inside.
He groaned, deep in his chest, sinking his fingers into my hair. I leisurely sucked the water from his dick and balls, licking it from his thighs and belly before returning my attention to sucking his cock. His hips moved back and forth in time with my bobbing head, until he was moving to fast for me to keep up. I held my lips open, my hand wrapped around the base of his cock, squeezing and stroking it, and let him fuck my mouth.
