Free Midnight Vengeance by Lisa Marie Rice

having his dick spring out in her face.
    She looked down at him. Tactics. He was really good at tactics. And strategy. Goal: getting naked. How? That was where tactics came in. He reached down and unzipped the sides of his boots, again glad he’d sprung for brand new ones. He and Metal both disliked shoes, being too used to combat boots. These didn’t lace up but that was fine. He toed them off and stood in his stocking feet.
    Christ. Why did people have to wear so many fucking clothes? He should have had a loincloth that he dropped and he could pick her up, drop her on the bed and drop on top of her. The whole process taking about two seconds. But no.
    And she was so freaking slow. Or at least that’s what it felt like. She pulled his pants down and he obediently lifted his feet, and she actually turned and placed the trousers on a chair, neatly folded. He couldn’t have managed that, not in the state he was in. She pulled off his socks, slowly, laying those neatly on top of his boots.
    Lauren stood, eyeing him. He stood at a modified parade rest, except he didn’t have his hands folded over his crotch as soldiers usually did. He had on a white tee and black briefs and he thought he could actually see the options flit through her mind. Tee first or briefs? Tee. She lifted the hem, tugged, and he obediently bent forward so she could pull it off then stood straight again.
    Her eyes went right to his shoulder. She’d seen his wrist tats of course. Unless it was freezing, Jacko usually dressed in a tee and vest. She’d never seen the tribal tats that covered one shoulder, down over his pec, one swirl surrounding a nipple. A Samoan American buddy of his had drawn them for him, each inch symbolic of something in his life, though right now he was too blasted by lust to remember anything.
    “That’s beautiful,” she whispered, running her hand over his shoulder, over the tribal tats. They were dense and dark. “Did it hurt?”
    “Some,” he admitted.
Like a bitch.
. “You’re missing an item of clothing.”
    Her gaze lowered and her eyebrows lifted. She caught her thumbs in the sides of his briefs and tugged them down. They caught on his dick and he closed his eyes when she pulled out the material so it could slip over him. The briefs fell and he kicked them aside.
    Lauren’s eyes were fixed on his dick and he didn’t blame her. It barely looked like a human organ. It was bigger than he could ever remember it being, huge and red and inflamed. He could feel her gaze on him as if it were her hands, and his dick moved.
    “Just from me looking at you?” she murmured.
    “Touch me,” he ordered and her hand lifted to him. Her skin was very pale against him as she stroked him from base to tip. He jerked and hissed, completely uncontrollable reactions.
    Lauren jerked her hand away as if she’d touched a red-hot stove.
    Oh God. How excited was she? He was normally big and now he was huge. He didn’t want to hurt her. He looked her over carefully. How the fuck could you tell with women? She looked slightly flushed but it was too dark to be sure. Her nipples were small and hard, darker than the pale pink skin surrounding them, but was that enough?
    Only one way to find out.
    He placed his dark hand over her belly, smooth and sleek, ran it down, cupped her. Slid a finger in her and...
yes!
She was slick and soft. But small. He frowned and reached deep inside the wet softness, stroking, and felt her contract around his finger. Saw the muscles in her belly pull.
    Lauren let her breath out in a long sigh.
    “You’re tight,” he said, voice ragged.
    Her eyebrows raised and she studied his face. “It’s...been a while.”
    At her words, his dick swelled impossibly bigger and her eyes grew large. “You like that. That I haven’t had sex in a while.”
    “Hmm.” It felt like a huge band of heat constricted his chest. He could barely breathe, let alone speak.
    “Isn’t that politically incorrect?”
    He shrugged. Yeah,