Military Maledom: An Officer And A Dom

“Okay,” I relent. “One dance.”

“Eva,” he breathes out in a teasing tone, “why must you think in such discrete terms? One dance, two, three. Just listen to the music.”

It’s Santana on the speakers, with that sexy fucking guitar playing that takes hold of my hips and my spine when I’m at home listening to it alone. Now, here, in front of Logan, I can’t give myself to it.

Logan shifts a half-measure closer, so that our bodies are brushing. It’s hard to ignore how much bigger he is than I am, how easily he could pick me up, just like he has in my private fantasies. I’m probably turning neon red, as flashes of naughty thoughts knife through my head. Logan pushing me down on a dark beach, panting with need as he rips my clothes off, then holding my hands above my head as he invades my pussy mercilessly with his thick cock. Logan looming over me, making me drop to my knees, that patient but authoritative voice instructing me in exactly how he wants me to suck him off. Logan cornering me in the storage room on base and telling me to face the wall and pull down my pants, to pry my round ass wide for him and beg him to fuck my tight asshole.

“Look at me, Eva,” he whispers, but it doesn’t really register amidst my chaotic thoughts. Logan takes hold of my chin and tips my face upward. “Lieutenant, stop thinking and fretting and just look at me.”

When I do, those pale eyes have me. My lips part with a low, shuddering breath, and I lose my train of thought. We sway against each other, our hips falling in time to the music, with one another.

And for a few moments, I’m not plotting how to get away from Logan or reminding myself how emotionally dangerous alpha males are. I’m not thinking at all.

I don’t resist when Logan draws my hands from his shoulders and holds them down at my side, his fingers intertwined with mine. “You like me,” he purrs. “You know that, right?”

This makes me chuckle, but I refuse to respond.

Logan slides his arms around me, but without releasing my hands, so he’s actually very gently twisting my arms around my back. This draws my body flush against his, against his solid chest and taut stomach and the pronounced bulge in the front of his jeans. A little mew escapes my lips when I realize what I’m feeling pressed against my tensed stomach, when I realize the size of it. My cunt pulses, once, hard, like it wants to pull his stiff cock inside me.

Against my ear, Logan mutters, “They say the people who have the greatest need to be in control in their careers are the ones who most enjoy giving up control…sexually.”

I feel my eyes flare wide. There’s no way I heard that correctly. I’d call him on that, if I could speak. I swear, I can’t get a sound out. My stomach is churning, my heart pounding. My clit throbbing in time with my pulse.

Behind me, Logan folds my arms tighter, so that my hands are touching the opposite elbow, pulling my shoulders down, straining just a little after a long, stressful day.

“Stop right now,” he tells me. “Stop thinking. Just feel.” His forceful, resolute tone turns soothing. “You can do that, right? You can feel the pull of the muscles in your shoulders.” He lays a soft kiss on one shoulder, bared by the sleeveless dress. Fuck, his lips are as silky as I’d imagined. I can’t keep myself from leaning my head to one side. He takes the invitation, sliding his mouth and his hot, velvety tongue along my neck.

I groan, and Logan purrs against my skin. He slows our sway to more of a slow grind, his hips angled forward to impress upon me the incredible size and readiness of the cock stretching the front of his jeans.

“Feel the strain in your back,” he mutters, “pushing your chest forward.” His lips trace the portion of my collarbone revealed by my dress before he dusts a trail of light kisses and licks down to my full cleavage.

I whine, and Logan shushes me gently. “Breathe through it. Slow and steady. Just trust me, Eva. Breathe.”

Little by little, I start to relax against him, start to feel a pleasant warmth in my muscles instead of tight burn, a gentler throbbing of my cunt instead of a frantic flutter of need. Jeez, what do they teach these naval intelligence officers? This would be a hell of an interrogation technique.

“Good girl. See how that works? You are still and quiet,” Logan says, nuzzling my cheek. “Warm and relaxed.” He bends his knees slightly, to angle his hips up under me, pressing his rigid cock against my mound through our clothing. “And ready.”