Free Surrendering To Her Sergeant by Angel Payne

that heat was
carved into every inch of his perfect features.
    “Good girl.” It rolled out of him as
he pressed closer. He was huge and hard and warm, consuming her
vision again, a welcome domination this time. Without a second
thought, she dipped her head into his chest. As her forehead
pressed between his dog tags, she felt at once connected.
Content.
    Confused.
    Don’t get used to this,
Ava. She had to be diligent about the
reminders. This was a bite of sin only, meant to be savored in this
moment alone. There could be no “getting connected.” No being
“content.” No letting him into her spirit or her soul. No anything except one
beautiful lick of man candy. One. Period.
    The mandate made her feel a little
stronger despite the shivers he induced by raking both hands down
her spine, continuing around the swells of her bottom, drawing his
fingers together in the crevice between her cheeks. But as he
glided further in, parting the sensitive wings of her sex from the
back, the tremors turned to liquid—and so did any rational
thought.
    “Ava.” His voice was like a rich
cabernet against her neck, a silken caress backed by unmistakable
command.
    “Y-yeah?”
    “You’re already wet for
me.”
    “Yeah…”
    The dark thunder vibrated through his
chest again as he moved his grip back to her buttocks. Like
lightning had struck his inner storm, he kneaded her flesh with
increasing urgency. He openly bit her nape. The pain made her gasp
in surprise, which rocketed into excitement. As she mewled against
the base of his throat, she wrapped her arms around his waist and
clawed ten deep, slow tracks across his back.
    A feral groan ripped out of
Ethan. Even when he’d trapped her in the forest those many months
ago, he hadn’t sounded like this. But that was it, wasn’t
it? All those months
ago . Lightning stored in a bottle for over
two hundred days was an explosion in waiting. She experienced the
truth of that now in every skin cell he marked, every tremble he
induced, every inch of her body that he claimed in sweeps and
squeezes that burned and branded. His fervor boiled her limbs to
the consistency of applesauce. When he shifted his hold from her
ass to her shoulders, her knees gave out and there was no way to go
but down.
    Oh damn, it felt good.
Better than she imagined or hoped. Here at his
feet… yes. It was
natural. Perfect. Meant to be.
    “Fuck.” It left him on a strangled
choke. When she pressed her cheek into his thigh, his muscles
bunched and tensed. She nudged him like a kitten seeking approval.
He answered her need, bunching his hand into her hair, gathering
the strands until they were tight between his fingers. Ava moaned,
again hating him and adoring him for the brutal pain…and the
magnificent mental journey into which he guided her
deeper.
    “I’ve had fantasies, too.” She
confessed it as she rubbed her nose against his zipper. The bulge
beneath her face pounded for release. He held her there for a long
moment, grunting in pleasure as she bit at the denim. She’d never
done anything like this before and it was…wonderful. Naughty.
Forbidden. Completely wanton. The world always demanded that she be
calm and temperate, the graceful daughter, the sensible friend, the
poised stylist. For once, she longed to be wild, wicked, and lost
in sexual decadence with this dark, primitive warrior…and his hot,
throbbing spear.
    “Show me.” Ethan’s order made it clear
he shared that mindset. He pulled her hair harder. “Show me exactly
what you fantasized.”
    His choppy breath finished it, a sound
Ava savored as much as the musky scent of his arousal as she
unzipped his pants. As she pushed them down, a tattoo was revealed
down the length of his right leg. The design was rendered entirely
in black ink, depicting a chain of matching circles, each with a
smaller ring attached inside, that were hooked together with the
same Chinese symbol. She fingered it for a minute, wondering if the
angels