Page 13 of Under His Command
After showering together and making me come more times than I can count, my back is pressed against Rowan’s chest as he cradles me in bed. I’m numb—my pussy is numb, my nipples are overstimulated, and my ass feels like he’s already fucked it with everything he’s got. I wince at knowing he hasn’t even truly started.
The sheets no longer smell just like me, from when I waited for him earlier—they smell like us. And I can’t help but let a sheepish smile spread on my face at the fact.
He’s real. This is real.
And so is the erection caging my ass from behind.
Rowan caresses my hair, breathing me in as he groans into my pebbled skin.
“I can’t believe you’re finally mine. It’s been so lonely, Dove. So fucking hard thinking of you but knowing I couldn’t have you.”
“I know,” I murmur. “I thought about you for so long, Rowan…”
“So when did you stop?”
“What?”
“You said it in past tense. So when did you stop thinking about me?”
Oh. I pause, gathering my thoughts, while he hugs me tighter into his naked chest.
“I thought… I thought it was insane. Thinking about you like that. You were a fantasy I’d made up in my mind. I had to let you go, Rowan, I didn’t think you’d—”
“I’m glad I wasn’t too late, angel. That’s all I care about.”
“I don’t think I ever really gave you up. You were always there, in the back of my mind. All you had to do was show up…” I smile.
He presses a kiss to my head, and my legs go weak.
But when silence drifts in between us, my thoughts torment me instead. What happens now? Will he just call me in to fuck me whenever he feels like it, while I go about my life? Will he want to see me again after tonight?
Doubt creeps in and my body goes taut in his arms.
“I, um… I have to go,” I say. “Early in the morning.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes,” I press on. “It’s about my job. I have to be at court on Monday, and there are still things I need to prepare tomorrow...”
“Cancel it,” he says, very matter-of-fact.
I turn around, facing the sleepy, sexy-as-fuck face of the most important man in the country right now.
“I can’t,” I laugh, my confidence slowly returning. “Miss Pratt would kill me. And then you wouldn’t be able to do what you just did to me tonight.”
He scoffs, smiling with closed eyes. “You underestimate me, angel. Being bat-shit crazy was a prerequisite for earning the highest rank in the military.”
“Sure it was,” I laugh.
“Who’s the judge taking your case on Monday?”
“It’s Miss Pratt’s case—and I can’t tell you that. You just told me you’re bat-shit crazy. What are you going to do? Kill the woman?”
Another smile, and a kiss that lands on my nose this time.
“Answer me.”
“Judge Lydia Davis.”
