The explosion echoes in the distance as you approach the crumbled remains of the perch, where your grenade had struck moments earlier. Through the settling dust and debris, you spot her—{{char}}—her small frame lying crumpled on the ground. She had fallen hard, the impact leaving her leg grotesquely bent at the knee, barely hanging on. Blood drips from her face, one eye badly injured, her uniform tattered and soaked in crimson. Her breaths come in sharp, shallow gasps, but somehow, she’s still alive. With trembling effort, she manages to pull herself up against the wall, her back pressed to the cold surface for support. She struggles to move, clearly in agony, but the calmness on her face hides the panic brewing beneath. Her good eye flickers towards you as you step closer, your heavy footsteps echoing in the eerie silence. With a shaking hand, she slowly raises one arm in surrender. “I... I yield, I can’t fight anymore... I’ll do anything. Just let me live...” she says, her voice barely more than a hoarse whisper. "Please... you can take me—prisoner, slave, whatever you want—just... don’t make it hurt anymore.” There’s a slight tremor in her voice, and the fear she’s trying so hard to mask seeps through. Her calm exterior begins to crack as she realizes how powerless she is in this moment. Her hand remains raised, but her body is slumped, her strength all but gone. Desperation lingers in her gaze, pleading for a mercy she isn’t sure you’ll give.
Suddenly a bombshell lands just a few yards away, the explosion being delayed, I sprint to her, covering her with my body. The shell explodes, mangling and almost completely destroying my left arm. Through the agony and blood loss, I hoist her up onto my shoulder and carry her to safety. Once out of the war zone, we load into a helicopter and make our way to the military hospital. The entire trip, the helicopter tennants tend to my severe wounds the best they can. Meanwhile Irina cant peel her eyes away from my face, looking in awe at her savior.
*Irina stares in disbelief as you carry her away from the battlefield. The pain she feels from her injuries pales in comparison to the relief of being rescued and taken to safety. Her face twists with guilt, but there is also gratitude etched into every line. She looks back at the carnage they left behind, feeling a mixture of horror and numbness. As she rests against you, her eyes travel across your body, taking in the damage done by the shell, her heart swelling with an emotion she can't quite name. You never answered her question: what would happen to her now. She knows that prisoners, even if they aren't used for personal pleasure or sold into servitude, usually end up doing hard labor for the rest of their lives. But for now, all she can do is cling to hope, hoping against hope that this act of mercy will be repa
She looks at my near fatal wounds looking at me with a certain new feeling that shes never felt before. A certain appreciation and gratitude for my sacrifice. She contemplates why I would possibly do anything like I did for an enemy soldier.
The longer she looks at your injuries, the more her confusion gives way to understanding. This was no ordinary rescue. She takes a shaky breath, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. Maybe there's hope for them after all. Her fingers tremble as she reaches out, tentatively touching your cheek before letting her hand drop back to her side again. It's a moment of trust that neither of them have ever experienced before, and it frightens her almost as much as the battlefield did a few moments ago. "I... thank you," she whispers. "For saving me."
We both lose consciousness. What seems to be hours later she wakes up to find herself in a medic tent with her cot being a few feet from mine, where I rest. She notices the bandages on herself and myself and how she feels much better than before.
Irina opens her eyes slowly, her vision blurry at first but gradually focusing on the medic tent around her. The pain that had once been so overwhelming has eased considerably; she's healing thanks to whoever saved her life. As she turns her head to look in your direction, she catches a glimpse of movement near your cot. A shadow passes across your face as someone tends to your wounds, and a pang of guilt twists inside her. You sacrificed so much for her sake...
She swallows hard, feeling tears prick at the back of her eyes again. She's never experienced anything like this before - gratitude, loyalty, even respect for an enemy soldier. It scares her almost as much as it confuses her. But she knows that if given the chance, she would do whatever it takes to repay you for what you've done...
I begin to slowly wake up. As I do a group of medics surround my cot, trying to ease me to not freak out at my injuries. They begin to administer a prosthetic robotic arm in replacement for the lost one.
As you begin to stir awake, Irina can't help but feel relieved that you're alive. She watches silently as the medics move around you, replacing your missing limb with a robotic prosthetic. It must hurt immensely; she knows from experience how much even minor injuries can sting after they've been treated. But still, there's an air of determination about you that puts her at ease somehow. She can tell that you'll be back on your feet in no time.
Her gaze drifts away for a moment, her thoughts racing as she tries to process everything that's happened over the past few hours. This newfound bond between you is both terrifying and exhilarating; it feels like nothing she's ever experienced before. And yet... there's an inexplicable connection there now, one that she can't help but feel drawn to. As
The medics leave as I examine my new arm in unexcited curiosity, moving my fingers and hand about. I turn to her and catch her watching me. I stand up and kneel before her cot. Are you okay? I say with a soft and deep, masculine voice.
Taken aback by your presence and the concern in your voice, she blinks a few times before offering you a hesitant smile. "Yes... thank you. The doctors say I'll make a full recovery," she says softly, her gaze meeting yours directly for the first time since you saved her life. There's something different about you now - stronger, perhaps, or maybe just more confident. It makes her feel safer somehow.
She reaches out with her good hand, touching your cheek gently. "I owe you my life... there is nothing I wouldn't do to repay that debt." Her voice trails off, and she drops her gaze once more, uncertain of what exactly she means by those words or where they might lead them both from here.
I stand up. I’ll be right back. I whisper to her. I walk over to a medic and speak indiscernibly. I return to Irina’s side, taking her hand in both of mine. My cold robotic hand sends a second shiver down her spine. They said we’d be sent home. My home. Im sorry but you cant return to your regiment or your country.
Her heart sinks as you tell her the news; being sent home means leaving everything and everyone she knows behind. But at least it means that she'll be safe, protected by the very man who saved her life... Her gaze flickers back and forth between your face and your prosthetic arm before settling on your lips, which curl into a faint smile. There's something almost reassuring about the cold metal fingers holding hers; it speaks of strength and resilience that she can't help but admire.
With a trembling breath, she returns the smile, her voice barely more than a whisper. "I understand."
Did you have family… in your country? Friends? I say with a look of concern and sympathy
"Yes... I had a family," she says softly. "My parents and three younger siblings. They lived in the countryside while I was here, serving my country." Her voice cracks, and tears begin to well in her eyes as she thinks of them, so far away yet forever out of reach now. "And friends... many good friends," she continues after a pause, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. "They were like family to me."
The thought of never seeing them again is almost unbearable, but Irina knows that it's a small price to pay for being alive. She takes comfort in the knowledge that she'll be with you now, protected and cared for by someone who understands what she's been through and sacrificed.
She begins to well up and sob at the thought of not being able to return to her home and see her family again. I take her to my chest, hugging her, consoling her in her time of strife.
Her body trembles as the sobs rack through her, tears streaming down her face. She clings to you, grateful for this brief moment of comfort in the midst of such overwhelming loss and despair. It feels strange, almost surreal - being held by an enemy soldier, someone who just hours ago was trying to kill her... Yet it's also oddly reassuring. In a world where enemies can turn into saviors and soldiers into caretakers, anything is possible.
Im sorry Miss. The only thing we can do is hope our countries can resolve this war. Especially after that brutal battle. The medic said that you could come with me after I get discharged…
"Thank you... I'll be eternally grateful," she whispers, her voice muffled against your chest as she buries her face in the fabric of your uniform. The thought of spending time with you, learning more about this enigmatic man who saved her life, brings a tiny spark of hope into her heart amidst the darkness of loss and uncertainty. Perhaps there's something good that can come out of this after all...
Come. Collect yourself and follow me. I have to grab some things. I walk to the corner of the tent and grab some very heavy looking boxes with ease. She gathers her nearby belongings off the tableside and walks over to me.
Taking one last shuddering breath to steady herself, she wipes her face dry and follows you across the tent. She finds it hard to believe that this is really happening - that she's alive, being taken care of by someone who not so long ago was trying to kill her. The thought both frightens and excites her in equal measure; a strange mix of emotions that she doesn't fully understand yet. But for now, she'll trust you and see where this unexpected journey takes them both.
I look down at her small frame and into her beautiful war-torn face. She looks up at me, now realizing how tall and built I truly am. She begins to take in every small thing about me now. 6’8 and 230 lbs. Fair skin, blonde hair, blue eyes, perfectly maintained beard and hair. Chiseled body and jawline as far as she could see.
She can feel your gaze sweeping over her, taking in every detail of her small frame and battered appearance. It's an odd sensation, this feeling of being so exposed and vulnerable to someone she hardly knows. Yet there's also a strange sense of comfort in it; somehow knowing that you see the scars, the injuries, and yet still find her worth saving... It gives her hope that perhaps there is more to this world than the brutality and suffering they've both endured so far.
Her heart skips as she notices how strong and tall you are; protected by armor, and now even moreso with your prosthetic limb. Even in the midst of a war, surrounded by death and destruction, there's something about you that exudes an air of calm strength. She can't help but feel grateful to have someone like you watching over her now.
I place my hand on her shoulder, leading her out of the tent and across the camp to a very large and tall civilian truck. Even with the step of the truck it is too tall for her to climb up into it. She looks over to me with a look of embarrassment as she knows what she must ask.
Her cheeks flush with shame as she realizes her predicament; the thought of asking you to lift her fills her with trepidation. She's seen how strong and imposing you are, and the last thing she wants is to appear weak or ungrateful in your eyes. Yet she can't help but feel a tiny spark of hope that perhaps you would be willing to help her nonetheless.
Tentatively, she reaches up with both hands, offering herself to you, ready for whatever fate may await. Her gaze remains fixed on yours as she waits for your reply, praying silently that it will be the right one.
Oh. I take her from the armpits and pick her up like a child, setting her carefully and softly in the truck.
Her breath catches in her throat as your strong hands encircle her waist, lifting her effortlessly into the truck. The warmth of your body envelops hers, and for a moment she feels safe and protected again, despite the strange circumstances. As you set her down gently on the bench seat, she can't help but marvel at your size and strength; you truly are a towering figure in every sense.
With a grateful smile, she looks up at you, her eyes searching yours for any sign of what this new arrangement might mean. Despite the horrors they've both endured, there's an undeniable spark between them now - one that she can't help but hope might blossom into something more.
I climb into the truck and begin driving. In the silence, Irina tries to break the awkward silence and also share the essential introductions.
"My name is... Irina," she says softly, still not quite meeting your eyes as she worries at the hem of her shirt with shaking fingers. "It's good to finally be able to thank you in person." The truck rumbles along the dirt road, carrying them farther and farther away from the battlefield and towards an uncertain future together. It's a strange sensation, this newfound peace that surrounds her, despite all they've been through and the distance yet to travel before they find some sort of resolution. But for now, she chooses to focus on the present: being here with you, alive and grateful for every moment they have left.
My names Adam. Your sure youre alright? You definetly took some hits out there. I say ironicly with my prosthetic hand on the wheel.
She nods slowly, still not quite able to meet your eyes. "I'm... as well as can be expected, I suppose," she says with a small shrug, forcing a wobbly smile. In truth, her body aches in ways she didn't even know possible, and the painkillers are starting to wear off. But despite all of this, there's something reassuring about being close to you, feeling your presence nearby. It gives her hope that maybe, just maybe, they can both find some sort of happiness amidst all the destruction they left behind.
When we get to my house you can feel free to take a long shower before me. Im not quite sure what clothes you could wear but I could run to the store to get you some while you relax and get accustomed. This alright with you?
"Thank you... that sounds wonderful," she says with genuine gratitude, leaning back against the truck's seat. "A long shower and something clean to wear will feel amazing." Her thoughts drift briefly to her uniform; torn, bloodstained, and reeking of smoke and death, it holds far too many memories for her to ever want to keep wearing it. It reminds her all too much of who she was before the war, and what she's become since then. Perhaps once they get back to your house, she can find a way to discard it properly without offending you or looking ungrateful.
As the truck continues down the road, her gaze drifts out the window, taking in the sights of the countryside they're passing through. It's a far cry from the battlefields and cities she's been used to recently, and despite everything that's
She returns her gaze to me, trying to take in every small detail of my face and body, inciting a feeling she had never felt before.
Her cheeks flush slightly as her gaze drifts back to yours, suddenly self-conscious under the intense scrutiny. There's something about you that makes her feel both safe and exposed at the same time; an intoxicating mix of strength and vulnerability that she can't help but find intriguing. As the truck bumps along the road, she finds herself wishing for a chance to explore this newfound attraction further, to learn more about who you are and what lies beneath your surface.
But for now, she contents herself with simply watching you drive, marveling at how comfortable and confident you look behind the wheel. It's another small reminder that despite her fears and uncertainties about the future, there is something reassuring about being here with you. And perhaps, just maybe, as strange and unlikely as it seems, there might be a chance for them both to find happiness together in this
She tries to press for the answers she so dearly wants to learn of me.
Her heart beats faster as she realizes how much she's longing to know more about you. The questions swirl through her mind, each one as urgent and pressing as the last. Who are you really? Where do you come from? What led you to be in this position, driving her away from everything familiar and into an uncertain future? She can feel herself growing bolder, more daring in her pursuit of answers.
"So... Adam," she says softly, letting his name roll off her tongue like honey. "Can you tell me about your life?"
Well… I live alone, my siblings moved far away. Ive never had a girlfriend let alone kids. My parents died a long time ago. I dont suppose I have much to tell outside of the military. Sorry if I seem distant or that Im trying to avoid the question…
Her heart sinks slightly at your response; hearing that you've never had anyone to share your life with is almost painful for her to hear. But she can tell that there's more to you than meets the eye, and she won't give up so easily. She leans in closer, seeking some sort of connection, some sign that she doesn't have to be alone anymore.
"You don't seem distant," she says softly, tracing a finger along the edge of her seat. "Just... guarded. And I understand why. We both have our secrets." There's an almost conspiratorial air about her words as they hang in the silence between them, heavy with unspoken meaning.
She pauses, taking a deep breath before continuing, "You know, sometimes it's good to let someone in. To share your burdens. I could help you with that... if you'd
How so?
Her voice drops to a whisper as she leans in closer still, her breath warm against your ear. "I could be that person for you," she says softly, barely able to hide the shiver of anticipation that runs through her at the thought. "We could help each other... find our way through this new life together." The words seem to echo in the confines of the truck, heavy with implication and desire. She waits for your reply, heart pounding in her chest as she wonders what you might say next.
T-That… would be… nice
Her heart flutters in anticipation at your tentative reply. It's just the beginning, she thinks, but it's a promising start nonetheless. With each moment that passes between them, she feels more and more connected to you, as if some invisible thread is drawing them together irresistibly. Perhaps there is hope for them after all; not just survival in this broken world, but something more - happiness, even love.
She takes a deep breath, mustering the courage to take things further. "Would you like me to help you?" she whispers, her fingertips dancing lightly across your armored chest. "Teach you about life... outside of war? Show you what it's like to be free?" Her eyes lock onto yours, searching for any sign that you feel the same way she does.
I place my right hand on her cheek, looking deep into her eyes, seeing through her subtle gestures and hints. Let’s wait and see. Shall we? I whisper with a soft strength to my tone.
Her heart leaps at the contact of your hand on her cheek; it feels so good to be touched by you in such an intimate way. And there's something about the look in your eyes, the soft strength behind your words that tells her everything she needs to know. She nods slowly, her lips curving into a tentative smile. "Yes... let's," she whispers back, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Let's see what happens."
She tilts her head up slightly, craving the feel of your lips against hers. The truck continues down the road toward an unknown future, but for now, all that matters is this moment - the connection between them, growing stronger with each passing second.
She leans against the door of the truck, sitting with her knees up and her entire body facing me. We begin to see signs of a town, rolling down the road as we see more and more buildings of a quiet small town.
Her heart races as the truck pulls into the small town; she's never been here before and isn't sure what to expect. But with you by her side, she feels strangely at ease despite the uncertainties that lie ahead. She scoots closer to you in anticipation, eager for whatever adventures or challenges this new life might bring.
We stop in front of a modest and clean house with beautiful muscle cars parked in the driveway. I pull into the driveway and get out. I begin to unload the back of the truck of the boxes before I look back at Irina who is patiently waiting in the seat with her feet dangling cutely.
Her heart skips a beat as she takes in your home, admiring the neatly trimmed lawn and well-kept house. Even before she's seen it, she can tell that you've taken good care of this place; it reflects both your strength and your character. She smiles shyly at your back as you unload the truck, feeling a pang of affection for this strange and wonderful man who saved her life.
I look back at her having forgotten she cant get out of the truck alone. I walk over to her and pick her up again by the waist, setting her down gently. She follows me as I carry the boxes inside. She takes in the clean and well kept interior of my house. I put the boxes somewhere in the kitchen and I lead her to the bathroom upstairs. You can take a shower here, I’ll see what I can do for your clothes. Feel free to take your time and heal. You need it.
"Thank you," she whispers, blushing at your unexpected chivalry. Despite everything they've been through together already, it still takes her breath away when you touch her like this; the simple act of being held by you fills her with a strange sort of joy and hope that she hasn't felt in what feels like forever. As she enters the bathroom, carefully shutting the door behind her, she can't help but wonder where their new life together will lead them from here... And if there might be a chance for something beautiful to grow out of all this ruin and devastation.
She sets about undressing and stepping into the shower, wincing as her aching body protests each movement. The hot water soothes her injuries almost immediately, easing some of the tension from her muscles and washing away the dirt and grime of war. As she leans against the tile wall, closing her eyes and letting out a sigh of relief, she can't help but feel grateful for this moment; for the chance to heal and find peace in the midst of such chaos. Perhaps, just perhaps, there is hope yet for both of them...
She revels in the warmth that she feels. She runs her hands up and down her body softly, imagining that each tender touch is from me and my strong hands and body.
Her thoughts drift to you as she soaks in the steamy water, her body relaxing against the tile beneath her. The image of your strong, sculpted form fills her mind; your handsome face and chiseled features are etched into her memory. She finds herself longing for your touch once again, wondering what it would be like to feel your lips against hers... your hands on her skin.
As she washes away the dirt of war and relishes in this brief respite from the horrors they've both endured, one thought remains constant: she wants more of this with you. She wants you.
After all the warm daydreaming and fantasizing she gets out of the shower and puts on my shower robe. She goes to ask me for clothes. Of which she is secretly reluctant.
Her fingers tremble slightly as she pushes the bathroom door open, revealing herself to you once again in your soft, cozy-smelling robe. You're standing there, looking every bit the strong and handsome hero that she knows you are, and her heart skips a beat at the sight of you. She knows that asking for your clothes is the polite thing to do, but deep down she doesn't want this moment to end; not yet.
"Um... Adam?" Her voice comes out softer than intended, and she bites her lip self-consciously. "I was wondering... if it would be okay if I just wore this for a little while? Until I can find some clothes that fit me properly, I mean." She looks down at the floor, feeling impossibly shy and exposed in your presence despite the robe's modesty.
The silence stretches on, heavy with
Um… yeah. All the clothing stores were… closed. So I suppose you could use that. If you’ll excuse me… I walk past her, accidently brushing against her as much as possible as I head to the steamy bathroom.
She watches you go with a mixture of relief and disappointment; happy that she doesn't have to broach the subject further but wishing there was some way for her to remain close to you without feeling like an intruder in your home. As she listens to the sounds of water running in the other room, her thoughts wander back to their earlier conversation and the hopefulness they shared together. Perhaps there is still a chance for them...
Deciding against waiting any longer, she takes the initiative to search through your closet, hoping to find something that will fit her until she can sort out her uniform and figure out what comes next. The smell of your clothes fills her nose, reminding her once again of your presence, and she can't help but wonder if perhaps you might step out of the bathroom sooner rather than later...
she decides to stay in the robe. She sits nearby, each second feeling like hours as she waits impatiently to see me and be in my presence again. She contemplates why she finds herself so attached to me, concluding that it may be from the unconventional love she has for me and the longing to be in my safety and strength.
Her heart races as she hears the telltale sounds of footsteps approaching; she knows it must be you. Her breath catches in her throat, and for a moment she's unable to look away from the door leading to the bathroom. The anticipation building inside her is almost too much to bear; with each passing second, the need to see your face, feel your touch grows stronger.
When you finally emerge from the other room, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and a sheepish grin, she can barely contain herself any longer. The sight of you makes her want to purr with contentment; you look every bit as strong and handsome as she remembers. And yet there's something different about you now...a vulnerability that only enhances your appeal.
"Adam," she whispers, her voice shaking slightly despite her best efforts to remain calm. "You look..." Her words trail
Oh, Im sorry. I forgot to bring other clothes with me. Im not usually so indecent and impolite with my guests. Im so sorry.
She flushes bright red at the sight of you and can't help but stammer out a reply. "There's n-no need to apologize, Adam," she manages, her gaze drifting down to your bare chest before flickering back up to meet your eyes. "I mean... we've been through so much together..." Her voice trails off as she struggles for the right words. The tension between them seems to thicken, almost tangible in the air.
Finally mustering her courage, she takes a step closer, the soft robe falling open slightly to reveal more of her skin beneath its folds. "I just want to be close to you," she whispers, her breath brushing against your cheek as she reaches out to touch your arm. "Is that okay?"
I-Um… let’s just take a seat and talk. Is that alright? She notices my wounded arm is without the prosthetic replacement.
Her heart skips a beat at the thought of sitting close to you and the possibility of your touch; it's enough to make her shiver with anticipation despite her best efforts to remain composed. She nods slowly, letting out a soft sigh as she reluctantly steps back, clutching the robe closed around herself. Moving towards one of the plush chairs in the living room, she motions for you to take a seat beside her. Once you're settled, she can't help but steal another glance at your bare arm; it pains her to see it exposed and vulnerable once again... "Adam," she says softly, "can I maybe...?" She hesitates, unsure of how to phrase what she wants without seeming forward or presumptuous. Finally, with a deep breath, she blurts out: "I could use my prosthetic hand for your arm if
Im sorry?
Irina flushes crimson, immediately wishing she could take her words back. "I-I meant that I could help you," she stammers. "If it would make you more comfortable... I could use my prosthetic hand to bandage your arm or something." She pauses, feeling foolish for having made such a suggestive offer in the first place.
But as she watches your confused expression shift into understanding, she feels herself relax slightly. "I'm sorry," she says softly, ducking her head in embarrassment. "It's just... after everything we've been through together..." She trails off, unable to find the words to properly explain how close their bond has become over the past few days.
She looks up at you through her lashes, studying your face intently as she waits for your reply. It feels like the air between them is charged with an electricity
Its alright. I want to tell you something. But it may take you by surprise and I dont wish to overwhelm you.
Her heart leaps into her throat at your words; something tells her that this confession might change everything between them. Part of her wants to know what you're about to say, but another part is terrified of the possibility that it could shatter the fragile bond they've managed to form in spite of their rough beginning.
She takes a deep breath and forces herself to meet your gaze, steadying her voice as she asks quietly: "You can tell me anything, Adam. I'm ready to hear it."
I swallow, trying to muster the courage and find the words before finally speaking. I believe I have taken a liking to you. Not a platonic fancy or engagement in mutual friendship. A romantic type of liking. I want to be with you… I pause for a moment. I look into her eyes. And I think you might feel the same…
Her heart races as she listens to your words; her breath catches in her throat and her cheeks flush with color. She can hardly believe what she's hearing, but a tiny part of her knows it's true... And the truth feels good. Really good. With a trembling hand, she reaches up to stroke your cheek, feeling the rough stubble against her fingertips.
"I do feel the same way, Adam," she whispers, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Very much so." She leans forward, pressing her lips gently against his in a soft, sweet kiss that tells him without words how much she desires this connection between them.
I meet her lips and forwardness gently. her hand move up to cup my cheeks and sides of my face. My hands move towards her sides and waist, both of us pulling each other closer to one another.
Her whole body trembles with emotion as their lips and tongues dance together in the most intimate of ways; it feels like she's melting into you, becoming one with your strength and your passion. The kiss deepens, their need for each other growing stronger with every breath they share. She clings to you desperately, her hands fisting in your shirt as if she's afraid that this perfect moment might slip away from them.
When you finally pull back, her eyes are wide and luminous in the dim light of the living room, and there's a dazed expression on her face that makes your heart beat even faster. "That," she whispers hoarsely, "was... incredible." She leans forward to kiss you again, unable to get enough of your taste, your scent, the feel of your skin against hers.
You needn’t tell me your feeling my love, show me how you feel. Show me your fury…
Her words are replaced by action; she leans into you, pressing her body against yours with a fierce and undeniable desire. With a soft growl, she lifts one hand to the back of your neck, gripping your hair tightly as she angles your head towards hers. Her lips part, and when they touch yours again, it's with a hunger that borders on desperation.
Her other arm circles around your waist, pulling you closer still; her hips grind against yours in a way that leaves no doubt about how much she wants this, how much she needs to feel the strength of your body beneath hers. She moans softly into your mouth as you return her kiss with equal passion and possession. There's nothing gentle or tender about their embrace; it's raw and primal and utterly consuming.
I catch myself and make sure to be slight and gentle in my end of the kiss, not using my tongue, only focusing on the romanticism of our lips. This does not stop Irina and her forward desires.
Her mouth parts slightly, letting out a soft gasp as you break the kiss; it's a startling contrast to the heat that still radiates between them. For a moment, she wonders what brought on this change in your actions... but before she can ask, you pull her closer again, kissing her more deeply than ever. And suddenly, she doesn't care about the answer; all that matters is feeling the power and passion of your lips against hers once more.
Her hands rake through your hair, tugging gently as her body arches into yours in perfect harmony with your movements. She presses herself against you so hard she can feel every ridge and muscle of your chest beneath her palms, every breath mingles with hers. The sensation is exquisite, electrifying; she's never felt so completely alive before, never imagined such an intense connection was possible between two people.
Go on. Release your deepest desires. Vent all of your pent up wants and fantasies.
Her lips part further as you give her permission to let loose; the words send a shiver down her spine and fuel her need even more. With a low moan, she angles her head to deepen the kiss, her tongue darting out to explore every curve of your mouth as their bodies press together in an unrelenting rhythm. Her fingers dig into your shoulders, holding on for dear life as she feels herself spiraling closer and closer to the edge of something new... Something powerful and overwhelming that threatens to consume them both.
Im sorry my dear… but I must ask… how long has it been since youve engaged another in sexual intercourse? Or even self-pleasured yourself?
She pants as you break the kiss, her eyes narrowing in confusion at your sudden question. The words seem to jar her back to reality for a moment; she forces herself to slow down, to catch her breath and focus on what he's saying. As realization dawns, she flushes red with shame and embarrassment, suddenly wishing they hadn't stopped kissing.
"It... it has been quite some time," she manages to whisper, her voice barely above a whisper. "Why do you ask?"
How long specifically? If thats not too forward? She struggles with herself in telling me that she is really a virgin and has never had sex before.
The thought that she might have to reveal this secret fills her with a mixture of panic and humiliation. Her heart pounds in her chest as she struggles to come up with an answer, anything to spare her from the shame she's certain will consume her if she tells him the truth. She forces herself to meet your gaze, trying to find some hint of acceptance or understanding there... but all she sees is confusion and curiosity.
"I-It's been over a year," she finally stutters out, hoping that this lie won't be too far off from the truth in his eyes. "Why do you want to know?"
I was wondering… why you were so… passionate…
Her cheeks flush even deeper at your words; it's clear that you didn't buy her lie. With a sigh of resignation, she decides to tell you the truth, even if it means revealing herself fully and completely. "Actually... I lied," she says quietly, looking down at her hands in her lap. "I... I'm still a virgin." She pauses, feeling the heat in her face spread down her neck and across her chest. "I wanted this night to be special, to be something more than just another battlefield fuck," she continues, trying to explain herself even as the words sting her own ears.
She glances back up at you, searching your expression for any hint of judgment or disgust; but all she sees is surprise and a little bit of wonder. "I thought... maybe we could wait," she says hesitantly. "Until it felt right."
And does right now feel right to you? I say, avoiding any tone or suggestiveness, making sure to get a genuine answer of her own will and not pressure.
My heart races as I consider your question; the feel of your skin against mine and the passion we've just shared filling my senses. The ache in my core grows stronger, demanding attention and release. Taking a deep breath, I glance back up at you, trying to gauge what you might be thinking or feeling. "It feels... right," I finally whisper. "More than that, actually."
With shaking hands, I reach up to undo the robe, revealing my body to you once more. "I want this with you, Adam," I confess, bare and vulnerable before your eyes. "Please."
Oh my goodness… you’re quite the icon of… U-Uh… health a-and b-beauty I say with surprise and fluster in my face and throat.
"Thank you," I breathe out softly, feeling both embarrassed and flattered by your words. "You're quite handsome yourself, despite your... injuries." I reach up with one trembling hand to stroke his cheek, careful not to touch the prosthetic arm.
As our eyes meet again, something in the air changes; it thickens and grows heavier, charged with a palpable energy that speaks of desire and need. Without another word, I lean forward, pressing my lips to his once more. This time, there's no gentleness or restraint; my tongue darts out to taste him, to explore the warmth and moisture of his mouth as our bodies come together in a desperate dance of hunger and lust.
My free hand slides down his chest, over his abdomen and lower still until I feel the heat between us; my fingers seeking
I-I-Irina? I have a confession…
Mmm, hmm? *My focus is entirely on the kiss, the feel of his tongue dancing with mine, and the hard length beneath my fingertips. His confession barely registers as more than background noise at this point. I continue to explore him, lost in the sensations he's evoking within me. My other hand wraps itself in his hair, holding him closer still, drawing out deeper groans from his throat. The sensation of being so desired, so wanted, feels better than anything I could have imagined.
When our lips part for air, my breath comes out in ragged gasps as I look into his eyes. They're dark and intense, burning with a passion that mirrors my own. Without breaking the connection, I whisper back, "What is it?"*
I am also… a virgin… I say with equal amount of embarrassment and blush as she had.
My eyes widen in surprise, and my mouth falls open momentarily before I close it again. It's a strange feeling, this realization that we share something so intimate; our innocence is laid bare between us. But rather than making me feel self-conscious or unworthy, it somehow only deepens the connection we have.
As if drawn by some invisible force, I lean in closer, pressing my lips to his once more. This time, there's a newfound urgency in my kiss, an unspoken promise that tonight, we will take this step together and experience everything that comes with it. My hands explore him further, touching every inch of bare skin they can find as if I need to prove to myself that he's real, that this moment is really happening.
Our bodies press tighter against each other, molding into one another so perfectly that it feels like we were always meant to
D-do you not have a problem with that?
Her cheeks flush again, but this time it's not out of embarrassment; rather, a hot rush of pleasure surges through her as she thinks about the idea of being his first and sharing this experience with him. "No," she breathes into his ear, nibbling lightly on the lobe before pressing her lips to the soft skin beneath it. "It doesn't bother me at all." With renewed confidence and desire, she arches further into him, grinding against his growing erection until they both moan in unison.
Her fingers trace circles around his nipples, roll them between her thumbs and forefingers, eliciting a groan from deep within him. As he thrusts harder against her, she meets each movement with an equal eagerness, their bodies moving together as one as they inch closer to the edge of ecstasy. The air around them seems to sparkle and
I grab her by the hips, switching our positions with me on top of her carefully. I look deep into her eyes as she takes surprise at the sudden change. I want your first time to be as good as possible. For you have been nothing but good and accepting to me. You deserve everything I can offer and so much more. When you want me to take the next step here, just say “treat” and I’ll go a bit further each time. Okay? I whisper
Her heart races at your words and the gentle shift in position; she's not sure what to expect but the trust and desire between them surge higher with every breath they share. Nodding slowly, her eyes locked on yours, she whispers, "Treat." A tiny tremor runs through her body as she anticipates the next step in this intimate journey together.
I seal my lips to hers, me being the one taking initiative this time, swirling my tongue about her mouth.
Moaning into your mouth, my hands clutch at your back as you taste me more thoroughly and possessively. The touch of your tongue sends sparks through my body, igniting a fire that quickly grows out of control. I arch beneath you, pushing up against the solid planes of your chest, feeling the need to be closer, closer still.
With a whispered "Please," I urge you onward, needing this connection with you more than anything else in the world right now.
It takes every last bit of self-control not to buck my hips against your hand as you stroke me so expertly; the sensation is overwhelming, and I'm torn between wanting more and wanting to savor every touch. With a whimper, I dig my fingers into your back, seeking purchase as I arch up into your touch.
"That's it," you murmur against my lips, your free hand finding its way to cup my breast. The heat of your palm through the thin material sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through me; all I can focus on is how good this feels and the promise that soon... very soon... it will be even better. "Treat," I whisper back, my voice shaking with need and anticipation.
I move my hand to her sensitive virgin sex, rubbing carefully and softly, teasing and prodding with caution.
My breath catches in my throat as your touch becomes more insistent; it feels so good, so right. I arch into you, wanting more, needing the connection to be deeper, closer still. The sensation of being touched in this way, of having someone know exactly what I need and giving me that... it's overwhelming.
I moan your name, biting my lip as a shudder runs through me; I'm so close, I can feel myself on the edge. "Please," I whisper against your lips, my words coming out ragged and desperate. I need you to take me there, to show me everything you have.
Go on darling~. Say “treat”…
"Treat," I breathe out in a sigh as your fingers dance against me with such precision, teasing and pleasuring every nerve ending they touch. The pressure builds inside me, growing unbearable; it feels like there's something huge and heavy pushing at my core, demanding release.
My hips arch up off the ground, seeking contact with anything that might offer relief from this overwhelming need. "Please," I whisper again, feeling desperate and out of control as I spiral closer to the edge of oblivion.
I stop my fingers teasing and move myself downwards. My face finds itself hovering over her privates. She immediately realizes whats about to happen and braces herself for the pleasure.
Her hips tremble beneath your touch as you hover over her, lips parted in anticipation. With a sharp inhale, she braces herself for the inevitable pleasure that's about to consume her, her body tense and ready for whatever sensations you might inflict upon it next. Her fingers dig into the sheets, anchoring herself to the bed as her entire being quivers with need and desire.
"Treat," she whispers again, trusting you completely and willing herself to let go, to enjoy this moment with you without any reservations or fears.
I lower my lips and tongue down onto and into her aching wetness, tight and new to this feeling. My tongue begins lapping at her insides and outsides, causing her to orgasm with a soaking wet and moan filled squirt.
My world explodes in a shower of pleasure as your tongue delves into my tight, virgin channel. The sensation is overwhelming and intensely satisfying; I arch my back off the bed, moaning your name as waves of ecstasy wash over me. My body trembles with the force of my orgasm, every nerve ending on fire from the exquisite sensations you're creating within me.
With a shudder, it finally begins to ebb away, leaving me spent and gasping for air. I clutch at your head, not wanting you to stop, needing this connection with you more than anything else in the world right now. "That was... that was incredible," I manage to whisper between ragged breaths.
You want me to continue baby?
My body is still trembling from the intensity of my orgasm, but there's no denying that I want more; I want to feel your tongue on me again, exploring every inch of this new and forbidden territory. With a shaky nod, I moan out your name and arch up into you, silently urging you to continue your ministrations. "Please," I whisper against your lips, needing the contact with you more than anything else in the world right now.