As I gathered myself and left the gym, I spotted Mitch on the phone, standing right outside the door. I stopped dead in my tracks before he could catch sight of me, pressing myself slightly against the wall to listen in.
"Everything's good, sir," he said, his voice dropping into a deep, disciplined rumble.
There was a pause as the person on the other end spoke. Mitch raised a hand, rubbing his face in a rare display of outward annoyance. "Yeah... I won't forget that, sir."
Another beat passed. His posture stiffened, his jaw locking tight. "Yes, I got it." His voice was a little more stern now, the thin edge of a temper barely held in check. "Goodbye."
He ended the call and shoved the phone into his pocket.
I stepped forward from the shadows, intentionally making my presence known as I walked right past him. Mitch's head snapped up, his dark eyes instantly tracking my movement. He fell into step right behind me, completely bewildered by the fact that I was walking across the compound wearing nothing but my soaked-through lace thong. The torn athletic shorts were sitting at the bottom of the gym trash can, and I didn't care who saw.
I walked into the main house through the back door, a private smile tugging at my lips as I heard his heavy, deliberate footsteps trailing me all the way into the bedroom and straight into the bathroom. I didn't stop until I reached the glass enclosure. Glancing back over my shoulder to ensure he was watching, I slowly pulled my shirt over my head and let it drop to the tile.
"It's just show after show for you, isn't it?" I chuckled, reaching behind my back to unclip my bra. I tossed it aside, then leaned into the stall to turn the water on to the hottest possible setting, letting the steam instantly start to cloud the glass.
I turned back to face him. He was standing in the corner of the bathroom, his arms crossed over his bare chest, watching me like a hawk.
"Are you not tired out?" he asked, his voice a flat, monotone rasp.
"No. I was told to conserve my energy," I replied, rolling my eyes in a deliberate mimicry of his own strict commands. I stepped closer to him, the cool air of the bathroom raising goosebumps on my bare skin. "Take your clothes off."
I demanded it with all the authority I could muster, but Mitch stood entirely still, his arms remaining crossed, his dark gaze unreadable.
"Fine. I tried. I failed," I taunted, throwing my hands up in mock defeat. I gave him one last, lingering look before stepping into the steaming stall. "I guess I'll just shower by myself."
The hot water hit my skin, a sharp contrast to the tension in the room. I leaned my head against the wet tile, letting the steam fill my lungs before I called out over the rushing water, my frustration finally bleeding through. "You might as well do a one-day delivery for a suction-cup dildo, Mitch. Seriously. Drop it in the Amazon cart so I can just spend the whole day riding that instead of begging you."
The second the words left my mouth, regret twinged in my chest. I took a deep, steadying breath and closed my eyes under the streaming water. "Sorry. Don't do that. Forget I said it."
A second later, the heavy glass door slid open with a sharp click. I felt the sudden shift in air pressure, followed by the small, rhythmic splash of his heavy feet stepping into the stall behind me.
"Oh. Nice of you to join me," I murmured. I leaned my head back against the wall, glancing over my shoulder. My eyes immediately traveled down his abdomen, tracking the water droplets as they pooled around his waist. Despite his perfectly calm facial expression, his massive, rock-hard partner was straining proudly between his thighs, completely betraying his stoic silence.
I turned around fully to face him, letting the hot water pelt my back while I locked my eyes onto his. "I need to add some rules to these workouts."
"No," he said sternly, his chest heaving as the water drenched his dark hair.
"Um, yes," I countered, stepping right into his personal space. "You've very obviously added a ton of unspoken rules yourself, Mitch. So I get to add them too." I reached out, my fingers wrapping around his thick, wet forearm. His muscles instantly tightened into solid iron under my touch as I pulled him deeper under the direct stream of the shower with me.
"What rules?" He raised an eyebrow, his forehead creasing slightly. I had never seen his clinical, military mask fracture quite like this before.
"No kissing. No aftercare. No using me until I completely pass out, even though I am desperately wanting you to. No listening to me beg for your cock for too long before you actually do something about it," I listed off, tapping my finger against his chest with every point. "These rules suck, Mitch. They are absolutely no fun."
He looked down at me, his hyper-focused gaze wavering for the first time. His dark eyes dragged down my face, completely wandering over every single drop of water that dripped over my bare breasts, tracking the heavy rise and fall of my chest.
"I'm not supposed to have fun," he said softly, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous register.
"Not even a little bit?" I whined, sliding my hands up to his wet shoulders.
Mitch leaned toward me, his massive frame completely crowding me against the glass. He reached right past my hip, his knuckles brushing my skin as he grabbed the bottle of body wash from the ledge behind me. "If you pitch the ideas you have for the rules... I can take them under clinical consideration."
I let out a low, breathy laugh, my fingers tangling into his wet hair to keep his face exactly where I wanted it. "Fine. Here are my rules for our sexual exchanges, Mitch. Pay attention."
I leaned in until my lips were practically brushing his jawline, my voice dropping into a dark, thoroughly wicked whisper as I spelled it out in grave, explicit detail.
"Rule number one: The very second you want me—I don't care if we are in the middle of a briefing, if Irene is in the next room, or if we're in the middle of a training drill—you take me. No hesitation. Rule number two: If I'm not done, or if you're not done, we do not stop. We continue to break each other until we are both completely paralyzed, unable to even lift a hand to wipe the sweat off our skin. Rule number three: Every single session requires at least one real, bruising kiss. No more withholding your mouth from me. And finally, whenever you drive yourself inside me, you don't hold back. You use every single inch of your length to stretch me out until I'm completely screaming your name, over and over, and you don't stop until you've completely ruined me for anyone else."
The explicit, uninhibited words hung in the heavy, steaming air of the shower, thick and suffocating.
For the first time since I had met him, Mitch's absolute military restraint completely shattered. He stood entirely frozen beneath the running water, utterly paralyzed by the sheer, unadulterated dirtiness of what I had just demanded. His chest stopped moving, his broad shoulders locking up as his eyes blew out completely black. His lips parted slightly in sheer, unadulterated shock, his mouth opening in a dazed gasp as his brain tried to process the absolute filth I had just poured into his ear. He looked entirely overwhelmed, his legendary control stripped away by a handful of sentences.
I tilted my chin up, a slow, deeply satisfied smirk spreading across my face as I soaked in his stunned expression.
"Or..." I murmured, running a wet finger slowly down the center of his chest, right over the fading bruises I had left him. "Am I reading the situation completely wrong, and you're just not into that?"
Mitch blinked, a sudden, sharp jerk of his head signaling his brain snapping back online. He visibly forced his professional composure back into place, his jaw clenching so tight the bone looked ready to crack, and he stepped back slightly, pulling away from my touch.
I smirked, turning my back to him to begin my shower routine. I reached out to take the bottle of body wash from his hand, but he pulled it back out of my reach entirely. I blinked, looking over my shoulder just as Mitch stepped right into my space again, his face dead serious, completely devoid of any teasing playfulness. Without a word, he squeezed a generous amount of the soap directly onto my bare chest. He stared down at my skin, focusing with an intensity so fierce it looked like his life depended on the task.
Setting the bottle down on the ledge, he placed his large, heavy hands on my shoulders. He began to massage the slick soap into my skin, his thumbs digging firmly into my tight shoulders before working his way down my rib cage. I gasped at the raw, heavy pressure of his palms. He didn't rush. His hands made a slow, deliberate path back up, wrapping around my bare breasts. He pulled my back flush against his chest to do it, his massive, rigid length poking and sitting right underneath the exact spot that was craving him.
"Turn," he ordered flatly.
I followed his command without a second thought, turning around to face the wall. Mitch grabbed a loofah, lathering it up under the hot stream before he began to scrub my back with firm, sweeping motions. The rough texture against my skin made me arch into him, but the real torment started when he slid the soapy mesh lower, cleaning around my hips and the upper curve of my butt. As his thick thighs pressed against mine, his hard length slid right between my legs, resting just beneath my dripping hole. The sheer sensation of him being right there made my insides jump with an involuntary, desperate jolt of joy.
"I have accepted some rules," he leaned down, his deep baritone whispering directly into my ear, his hot breath cutting through the steam.
A needy shiver ran through me, and I tilted my head back against his shoulder, flirting very hornily back. "Oh yeah? Which rules, Mitch?"
"That's classified," he responded, his demeanor completely serious and clinical.
The agonizing proximity was too much; I couldn't hold it together for another second. Reaching my hand down between my legs, I gripped his thick shaft from behind. I used his rock-hard length to tease myself, stirring my own slick wetness from earlier and aggressively pressing his rigid top directly against my throbbing clit. I let out a loud, broken moan as the friction hit the mark.
Mitch's professional facade broke for a fraction of a second, a harsh, ragged breath leaving his throat. "Are you so lacking in discipline, Lauren, that you cannot even wait for an official directive before taking matters into your own hands?"
Before I could reply with another dirty comment, he gripped my wrists with a sudden, bruising force, constraining both of them easily in one of his massive hands. He spun me around, pressing my back hard against the wet shower tile. He shoved his body completely in between my legs, pinning me down. Because of his towering height, his slight upward curve aligned perfectly against my core, the heavy ridge rubbing directly over my swollen clit.
He clamped his free hand over my hip, using his brutal strength to pull my pelvis forward, forcing my body to arch violently into him. I cried out as the friction ignited a blinding wave of pleasure. Mitch didn't plunge inside me yet; instead, he began to tease me mercilessly, shifting his hips in slow, heavy circles, grinding his massive front against my slick opening until I was completely unraveled, sobbing and begging him to just take me.
The mention of the rules had completely broken the final dam holding back his restraint. Mitch let go of every single boundary that had been keeping him in check. With a dark, feral growl, he lifted my leg over his hip, aligned himself, and rammed entirely inside me with an aggressive, punishing force.
The sound of his thick, wet entry was an explicit, loud slap that echoed through the stall. I screamed, my head slamming back against the tile as my walls underwent an automatic, violent kegel reflex, clamping down around his immense width like a vice. I was so incredibly drenched, my natural wetness mixing with the hot shower water, creating a sloppy, squelching soundtrack to every heavy thrust.
"Mitch! Fuck, you're stretching me so wide," I sobbed, my hands clawing at his slick shoulders as he began to pound into me with a relentless, rhythmically brutal pace. "Harder—stretch my walls out, put all of it inside me! I want you to completely ruin my pussy, make me bleed your name, Mitch!"
The sheer filth spilling from my lips made him completely lose his mind. He didn't tell me to shut up this time. Instead, he leaned down and captured my mouth in an intoxicating, deeply hungry make-out session. His tongue lashed against mine with a savage desperation, tasting the water and my frantic gasps, completely intoxicating me until I couldn't tell where my breath ended and his began. He was eating my mouth alive while his lower half continued to run into me like a freight train, his pelvis slamming mercilessly against my clit with a heavy, wet precision.
His grip on my waist left immediate, dark finger-shaped bruises as he hauled my hips upward to meet his brutal depth. I was losing my mind, my body firing off back-to-back contractions that only made him growl deeper into my mouth. Just as the unbearable coil of my orgasm started to tighten, Mitch let out a guttural roar, abruptly stepped out of me with a wet, heavy suction sound, and reached over to violently twist the shower handle, turning the water off completely.
I fell forward against his chest, completely out of breath, my vision swimming. Before I could even mutter a single word, Mitch hooked his arms under my knees and back, lifting my dripping body into his arms. He carried me out of the bathroom, leaving a trail of water on the floor, and threw me heavily onto the mattress.
I sprawled out on the sheets, my legs shaking, looking up at him with blown-out eyes. "Until I can't move, okay? You promised..." I choked out, the raw lust making my voice sound entirely foreign.
Mitch sent one strict, unyielding nod my way.
He didn't give me a single second to recover. He dragged my body to the edge of the bed, hauling my legs up over his broad shoulders in a deep, fully exposed spread. He plunged back into me from above, the change in angle driving him so incredibly deep against my cervix that a high-pitched, broken shriek tore from my throat.
"Ruin me," I whimpered, my fingers digging into the mattress as he rammed down into me over and over, his heavy balls slapping rhythmically against my wet thighs. "Break my walls, Mitch. Pound me until I pass out, please, fuck me harder!"
My dirty encouragement only fueled his fire. He grabbed me by my waist, hauled me off the bed entirely, and dragged my trembling body across the hardwood toward the heavy wooden dresser at the back of the room. He spun me around, forcing my torso down over the smooth wood.
"Grip the mirror," he commanded into the back of my neck, his voice completely raw.
I reached out blindly, my palms pressing flat against the glass of the mirror to stabilize myself. I arched my back deeply, hoisting my soaking wet, swollen ass into the air. Mitch stepped in flush behind me, hooked his hands around the front of my hip bones, and drove his entire, massive length straight back inside me from behind.
The impact was devastating. Every single time his pelvis slammed against my backside, the heavy dresser rocked back and forth, the wood groaning and the mirror rattling violently against the wall. I screamed, my fingers clawing at the glass, my sweat-soaked palms smudging and streaking the entire surface of the mirror as I tried to hold on. He was pounding into me like an absolute animal, his thick shaft sliding through a torrent of my wetness, creating a filthy, echoing sloshing sound that filled the bedroom.
"You're breaking the dresser... fuck, you're breaking me," I cried out, my head hanging low as his relentless, heavy strokes tore through my last remaining senses. "Put your babies in me, Mitch, fill me up, destroy me!"
Mitch let out a loud, ragged gasp, the sheer, uninhibited filth of my words pushing him completely over the edge. He grabbed my hair, pulling my head back as he slammed his hips into me with a final, desperate speed.
He hauled my body back onto the bed for one final position, flipping me onto my back. He crawled between my thighs, his massive body hovering over mine as he slid back inside with a wet, heavy friction. Our eyes locked, completely consumed by an intense, overwhelming thirst for each other. As he began to thrust, our movements naturally locked into a frantic, seamless synchronization, our skin sliding together in a feverish heat.
Suddenly, Mitch's powerful shoulders began to tremble, his ultimate composure buckling under the weight of the pleasure. Seeing him shake gave me a wild, electric surge of energy, and I began to violently thrust my hips back up against him, matching him beat for beat. The friction became blinding, and my words got even nastier, filthier, completely unhinged as we pounded together into the mattress. "Look at you shaking for me... look at how fucking hard you're stretching me out... split me wide open, Mitch, stretch my throat next, I want all of it!"
He went faster and faster, his strokes turning into a brutal, lightning-fast blur. The depth of his plunges was so intense that I felt my lower stomach begin to sharply cramp, but the slight pain only heightened the pleasure—I absolutely loved it. Desperate for even more depth, I used both of my arms to reach down, grabbing the backs of my knees and pulling my legs as far back toward my chest as they could possibly go.
Mitch took immediate notice. He let go of the mattress, took one massive, calloused hand, and forcefully pushed my leg down and back against my torso, pinning me in an impossibly deep, hyper-opened stretch. The sudden, agonizingly perfect angle took my breath away entirely, making my vision spot as he drove home.
"Fuck! Mitch, yes—ruin my cervix, destroy it!" I shrieked, completely unraveled by the filth.
With his free hand, he reached down, grabbed my wrist, and slid my hand directly down between our tangled bodies. He forcefully rubbed my own fingers right onto my swollen, highly sensitive clit, forcing me to stimulate myself while he continued to pound messily, brutally into my soaked core, the squelching sounds filling the room as we both raced toward the edge.
He came down flat on top of me, his mouth crashing back onto mine, making out with me in a frantic, unhinged blur of tongues and heavy breaths as he executed three more monstrously deep, final thrusts.
The final climax hit us both like a physical explosion. My walls clamped down in a frantic, inescapable spasm, a blinding white heat taking over my entire consciousness as I screamed into his mouth. Inside of me, Mitch completely broke down. His massive shaft swelled to an impossible size, pulsating and throbbing violently deep within my core as he let out a guttural, animalistic roar. I could feel every single heavy, hot pulse of his release shooting deep inside me, his internal rhythm violently knocking against my walls over and over again.
Our bodies completely broke down on each other, collapsing into a tangled, sweat-soaked heap on the mattress. The sheer exhaustion and overwhelming waves of the climax caused my vision to black out, my mind drifting instantly into a deep, inescapable sleep.
Even as my body went completely limp beneath him, Mitch didn't immediately pull away. He stayed hovering over me for several long minutes, his chest heaving as he kept pressing hungry, lingering kisses along my neck, my shoulders, and the edge of my jaw, completely claiming my skin before he finally collapsed onto the mattress right beside me, wrapping a heavy arm around my waist and pulling me into the dark.
