Chapter 33 Get Undressed

Wren

The blazing fire in his gaze nearly burned me alive. "Get undressed," he announced.

"What?"

"Get undressed, stand behind the couch facing the window." He pointed to the sunken living room that looked out over the city.

His crazy demand totally threw me off course, which was probably his intention. We weren't done with this conversation, and he wasn't getting out of it by bossing me around.

"No," I said, my voice breathy with shock and exhilaration.

He dipped his chin and lowered his voice. "Get undressed and stand behind the couch." Oh boy, he was serious. There was no room for negotiation in his command. I'd awakened the beast in him. Shit. Shoot. Fuck.

Heat crept up from my belly to my chest. I wanted to fight him, but I was also insanely curious about what he was planning. "Can I keep my underwear on?" I rubbed my thighs together to ease the dull ache growing there.

His fingers tightened like he was squeezing a stress ball, and his gaze was distant as he started looking around the apartment. "Yes."

The compromise offered me a graceful way to break the ice and agree. "Okay." I walked out to the living room and stood behind the couch. Blinds covered the windows, and darkness cast the sparse room in shadows .

His footsteps tapped lightly on the hardwood floors, and a door creaked from the direction of the hallway to the bedroom. I took off my shirt as I listened to him rummaging through something. I slipped off my shoes first then my pants. Goosebumps rose on my exposed skin as I folded my clothes and placed them on the couch.

My breath became ragged as I waited in only a red silk bra and panty set. I could feel his eyes on my back and hear slight movements, but it was like he was invisible. In a burst of bravado, I took off my bra and placed it on my pile of clothes.

When the brush of his footsteps came closer, I turned to look. He had removed most of his clothes, and he was only wearing a pair of dark blue boxer briefs with a thick black band at his hips. His giant cock stood erect, eager to jump out of the confining elastic band.

Butterflies took flight in my belly, and I was already wet between my legs. He carried three short waxy crayons in his hand that looked like makeup, and he had marks on his face. Green, black, and gold stripes like he was going to a football game.

Or to war.

Oh my.

I gulped down the hard lump in my throat and looked back at the closed window blinds.

Now I knew what it felt like to be held captive by a Navy SEAL.

His heat warmed my back, and his hot breath gusted past my ear. "You only have to say no or anything like that, and I'll stop. "

I nodded.

"Bend over."

I slowly bent at the waist and leaned my elbows on the back of the couch. His foot reached between mine, and he kicked my legs out. He ran his left hand over my hair, down my spine, and stopped it at my hip.

A cool pressure scraped across my lower back. I turned to look, and he was concentrating hard as he wrote something.

"What is that?"

"Combat paint." He traced a letter, and I shivered as the tickle spread with the cold paint. I was so busy shaking and trying to breathe, I couldn't tell what he'd spelled out.

He rose and curled around me, smashing his front to my back, rubbing his hips against my backside so the paint, and his hard cock, was pressed between our bodies. He moved my hair to the front, and bit into my shoulder followed by a lick that made my whole body tremble. He slowly and deliberately wrote something similar between my shoulder blades then traced it with another color.

I jumped when something hard hit my butt cheek. "What was that?"

His hand gently rubbed the spot. "My handprint." Another smack landed roughly on the other side with a loud pop. It burned and then tingled as my chest heaved with the effort to stay calm. His hands reached out and viciously gripped my breasts. He caressed them and smeared the paint all over them.

"Flip."

Flip? I could barely open my eyes, much less pull off an acrobatic move right now. I groaned and awkwardly threw my arm back to start a roll along the back of the couch. Luckily, his hand reached out to support my neck as I flopped over onto my back. I found my balance, and he got to work painting my belly.

I craned my neck to peek down at his little art project, but I couldn't make out any letters.

He finished and wrote it once more above my breasts between my collar bones. Magnum was clearly a visual person because his eyes were animated and lit as he tore his gaze away from the paint and focused on my lips.

Without warning, his mouth smashed to mine, and I didn't care about the paint anymore. I just needed him to never stop kissing me. I grabbed his head and held him tight as he deepened the kiss, devouring me and setting my blood on fire.

Our bodies rubbed together, and he pulled me impossibly closer, intentionally transferring the paint from my skin to his. Too soon, he broke the kiss and stabilized me before he let go. I watched as he walked around the couch to the coffee table, picked up a small remote, and the blinds mechanically turned to reveal the dark window and city lights behind.

In my reflection, I read what he'd written on my nearly naked body.

M-I-N-E.

Mine.

The letters were written backwards on my skin so it appeared from left to right in the reflection. Huge black, gold, and green hand prints claimed my breasts and my hips .

The letters had been transferred to him, and I could read them on his fabulous body too.

Mine . Smudged and smeared, but it said mine on Mag's skin. I loved it. A declaration that he belonged to me was stamped on his skin from our bodies rubbing together.

He tossed the small remote on the couch and stared at me with a very determined scowl on his face. My stomach sank to the floor. I was definitely in way over my head with Magnum.

"Come here." His voice was a low growl.

I moved so fast, I was nearly running. He caught me and then I was flying through the air. I landed on my back on the hardwood table. He ripped my underwear off before I'd even registered what happened, and his briefs disappeared in a blink.

He unearthed a condom from somewhere, spread my legs, and positioned himself above me.

"Good girl," he said as he slid in, and I arched my back to welcome him. He was huge and hard and filled me completely.

He pumped into me ruthlessly as the paint turned every point of contact into a slick sensual massage. His hand came to my clit and masterfully caressed it while keeping up his pace.

Right then, I didn't care that Mag was a lot more experienced than me because it meant he knew how to do this, and I could trust him to take care of me as I lost myself in him. He did a great job because very quickly, a monumental orgasm jolted through me. A never-ending, full body release that forced a harsh moan from my throat .

"That's it, baby. That's it. So wet. So hot. Fuck, babe."

His hips jerked, he planted his cock deep, and he held himself over me as he grunted through his climax. My nails scraped down his back. My legs wrapped around him and tugged him close. For that eternal moment, I felt like he was inside my soul. He could see everything there, and he loved it unconditionally. Flaws and all. I could see inside him too, and we were truly one being joined in ecstasy.

We clung to each other on the table for a long time. When he finally separated from me, he helped me up. We were a hot mess of green, black, and gold splotches. His mark was all over me. My nails had made trails down his back and across the backs of his legs.

He peered down at his chest and torso, and he looked adorable as he grinned at me. "I think I'm over it now."

I fell against his chest and laughed so hard I snorted. His body shook with laughter too.

"How do we clean this stuff off?" While it was hot and all, it was getting sticky and messy.

"We don't. It's permanent," he quipped.

"No, it's not."

"Kidding. Bath. Special soap."

"Mmm. Sounds good."

He carried me into the bathroom and started filling the giant tub in there. As I rubbed the soap on his skin, the water turned an interesting gray-green color.

The water splashed over the sides as we had earth-shattering sex in the tub .

Once clean, he brought my languid body to the bed, and I fell asleep naked in his arms. This time I was certain he was mine, and I was his. No doubt about it.