~MOUSE~
The dimly lit room hummed with the distant whirr of electricity, casting elongated shadows across the concrete walls.
Noël's heart raced as he lay beneath Ophelia's hips, his eyes locked onto hers, a turbulent sea that seemed to swirl with a blend of resolve and desire.
Straddling his waist, Ophelia's silhouette was a captivating dance against the soft glow of flickering overhead lights.
Her fingers traced the intricate patterns of the gear that adorned his chest, her hot touch sending shivers through his body.
She knew the effect she had on him, could see it every time she touched him.
But she wanted more.
The hood concealed his face, a barrier between vulnerability and exposure.
He fidgeted beneath her, torn between desire and reservation.
He wanted to please her.
She could see it.
He desperately wanted to take it off for her.
But he looked almost nervous.
Her brown eyes, intense and unwavering, held him captive.
They were pools of warmth, swirling with unspoken promises and secrets.
Noël's uncertainty manifested in the restless fidgeting beneath her as if trying to escape.
"Noël," she whispered delicately, the sound hanging in the air like a delicate melody.
There was a plea in her voice, a vulnerability that echoed his own.
His name escaped her lips like a prayer, and he moaned in response, the sound a raw admission of the desire that simmered beneath the surface.
No longer able to tear his gaze away, his eyes roamed over her face, capturing every nuance of emotion that played across her features.
"If I do," he began his voice uncertain yet laced with a hunger that mirrored her own.
"You can't leave." The words hung in the air, a heavy declaration that seemed to carry the weight of the world.
It was a demand, a plea, and a vulnerability laid bare.
A small smile tugged at the corners of Ophelia's lips, not understanding he was being deadly serious.
If she ran, he would never stop chasing her.
Her gaze held a promise that transcended words, a silent understanding that bound them.
For once, Noël's eyes didn't flit away.
They locked onto hers, forging a connection that felt like an unspoken agreement.
"What, because if I see your face, you'll have to kill me?" she teased, the words carrying a hint of mischief as she ran her hands up his chest.
His eyes, however, bore into hers with a raw intensity, a storm of emotions swirling beneath the surface.
"No," he replied softly, his gloved hand reaching out to cradle her cheek, his fingers tracing over her smile.
The touch was both tender and possessive, a silent promise she didn't understand.
"Weil ich dich niemals gehen lassen werde," he murmured, the foreign words rolling off his tongue with a gentle cadence.
The meaning remained a mystery to Ophelia, but the tone in his voice spoke volumes.
The unfamiliar sounds held a softness and warmth, a tenderness that permeated the air.
Her brow furrowed slightly in confusion, yet the sincerity in his eyes needed no translation.
If he showed her, it would mean they meant something.
Ophelia stared down at him, her expression open as she gently nodded her head.
He watched her face for a beat of silence before his hands delicately began to lift the hood.
Ophelia's curiosity reached its peak as she leant forward.
Before she could voice her questions, the fabric parted, revealing a sight that left her utterly breathless.
Her mouth fell open in astonishment as she sat back on his waist, her eyes widening at the vision before her.
He was almost ethereal.
His tired stormy-grey eyes bore into hers, their intensity heightened by the revelation of his features.
Short wavy hair, a kaleidoscope of blonde hues, framed his face in a way that seemed almost artful.
The multiple shades blended seamlessly, creating a dynamic play of light and shadow that accentuated his rugged handsomeness.
A scar, weathered and rugged, traced a jagged path down the right side of his jaw, adding a touch of roughness to his appearance.
Smaller scars littered around his face in different patterns and sizes.
His features held a kind of timeless beauty that left her spellbound.
His chiselled jawline, strong nose, and intense gaze all combined to create an image that seemed like a work of art.
He was the most handsome thing she had ever seen.
Ethereal but in the way a wickedly sinful was a fallen angel was.
Ophelia's heart fluttered wildly in her chest.
"I'm not-" Noël's words hung in the air, before he could complete his sentence, Ophelia's hands darted forward, seizing his face between her palms.
The sudden contact sent a jolt through him, and he stilled beneath her touch as she tilted his head from side to side, her wide eyes drinking in every nuance of his features.
Her hands, warm against his skin, traced a delicate dance over his face, exploring every contour with a curious fascination.
Her fingertips moved with a gentle precision, mapping the landscape of his identity.
The slightly crooked bridge of his nose, a detail that added character to his face, did not escape her notice.
She lingered over the curve of his plump lips, a softness that contradicted the ruggedness of the scars etched into his skin.
Her fingers traced the purple bags under his tired eyes, the redness made sense now.
Her touch continued an intimate exploration that transcended the physical.
His eyebrows, each hair a brushstroke contributed to the canvas of his expression.
But it was the scars that drew her attention like a storyteller tracing the lines of an ancient tale.
Her fingers moved over the raised and weathered skin, acknowledging the battles he had fought and the resilience woven into the fabric of his being.
Ophelia dropped her hands and sat back, her gaze locked onto Noël's unveiled face.
Her mouth hung open, and she absorbed the emotions that played across his features like a shifting painting.
Uncertainty lingered in the furrow of his brow, hope sparkled in his eyes, and an undercurrent of self-loathing shadowed his expression.
It was clear he didn't like the way he looked and she had no idea why.
The room held a charged silence, as she stared at him.
Noël's vulnerability laid bare, a mosaic of conflicting emotions written across his face.
The scars, once veiled beneath the hood, became part of the intricate narrative of his being.
"You're probably the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," Ophelia uttered softly, her words hanging in the air with a sincerity that needed no confirmation.
It was clear on her face that she believed every word she spoke.
He stared at her for a silent moment before he sat up quickly and pressed their lips in a fervent kiss.
Their teeth hit each other as their tongues brushed and melded together.
Ophelia felt the weight of his moan against her lips, a sigh of relief that resonated through the charged air.
The urgency escalated as Ophelia's hands moved with purpose, tearing the gear from his chest.
The metallic clatter echoed in the room as she threw them aside messily.
Noël reciprocated with a fervour that matched her own, his hands finding the delicate fabric of her lace and pulling it away in desperate need.
He tore it off and threw it away.
He rolled them over effortlessly, a seamless motion that left him hovering above her.
Their faces mere inches apart, he gazed down at her with an intensity that mirrored her own.
Ophelia's eyes, still captivated by the sheer handsomeness before her, traced the contours of his face.
Her gaze fell on the silver dog tag that hung around his neck, its metal surface catching the ambient light.
She tilted her head, curiosity sparking in her eyes as she read the last name engraved on it.
Noël Waismann.
The revelation seemed to ignite a silent understanding, and her eyes shot up to meet his, raising a brow in unspoken inquiry.
"Waismann?" she said softly as she looked at the engraving on the tag.
Noël's response was a crooked smile that played upon his lips, a sight that nearly made her unravel and cum.
His smile was a work of art, a masterpiece that added a touch of roguish charm to his rugged features.
It was not a perfect, symmetrical grin.
Instead, it held a subtle asymmetry that only enhanced its allure.
His lips curled with a hint of mischief, creating a charming tilt that revealed a vulnerability beneath the stoic exterior.
It was a smile that spoke of danger, possessiveness and wicked desire.
She loved it.
She brought her lips to his again in a searing kiss that made him groan against her.
Her hands flew up to his hair, running through the soft strands through her fingers, pulling the ends.
His head tilted up, exposing his throat to her.
Moving forward she placed her lips on his jugular and began to suck and lick gently.
He gasped loudly, his bare hands shooting down and digging into her hips.
"Fucking hell, Ophelia," he said her name so pretty and she felt herself soak back through with arousal.
Sinking her teeth into his neck she sucked hard.
She knew it would leave a dark bruise on his skin, he seemed to know as well as he moaned loudly.
She felt hot cum shoot up and coat her chest and stomach in response to her marking his skin.
"Do whatever you want to me, Liebe, please," he begged as she let go of his neck.
As she pulled away, she saw the dark bruise she had left on his skin.
Her eyes went up to his and she noticed the plea in them.
He was begging her to praise him, touch him and show him how much she wanted him.
He was starved of it, and he wanted it all from her.
The idea he wanted just from her made her burn and ache.
Placing her hand around his neck gently she pushed and was surprised as he moved.
His arms stayed around her as she swapped their positions.
Her pussy on his abs, his cock pressing behind her ass as she looked down at him.
He stared up at her with an open expression.
Need an obsession turning his eyes into dark pools as she straddled him.
"We're crossing a line," she said softly as she looked down at him.
She could see his obsession for her, his need and eyes that only looked at her.
He was a shark, and she was bleeding out in the water.
His eyes traced over her face.
His hand moved from her hips, running up her side, curving over her chest and collarbone.
It gently swept over her jaw, cheek and ear.
It brushed into her hair and gently ran through her curly strands.
"I've already crossed it," he said as he looked at her with pupils so expanded she couldn't see any blue.
No one had ever looked at her like that.
Like she was the sun that hung in the sky.
Her need overpowered her common sense.
Her mind screamed at her. "He's older than you. He's your Colonel. Criminal. Violent. The mission will end, and you won't see him again."
But as his hand wrapped around her neck, his fingers gently caressing her scar, she found she didn't care.
Sitting up on her knees she used her hand to grab his cock gently.
He was already so hard it pressed against his stomach as she moved.
With careful slowness, she moved it to her entrance.
His eyes closed and his head fell back as the wide tip pressed into her.
She grit her teeth through the pain and sunk down.
"Oh, verdammt," he moaned as his hands snapped to her hips.
He didn't push her down or hurry her.
Just held on.
She curled her hands into his chest as she sank further down.
The new angle seemed to push him further into her and she was almost certain he was in her womb.
"Ophelia, I-I need you. Now." he stammered and she groaned as she dug her nails into his chest.
Her head fell forward her eyes screwed as she let her body adjust to how big he was.
"Are you okay, Meine Liebe-" his sweet words were cut off as she sat up and used her shaking legs to begin to thrust.
The hands on her hips tightened to a bruising grip and she watched as his head fell back, his Adam's apple bobbing as she began to move.
She let her head fall back, her chest bouncing as she started to move faster.
Her pleasure built as his girth and veins rubbed against her walls.
"Fuck you're so good," she said as she hung her head, her whole body quivering.
His hands tightened their grip as he moaned, his cock growing at her words.
"Mehr, erzähl mir mehr," he begged as he started to lift her hips, helping her ride him.
"English, baby," she said and no sooner had she said the words than she felt him shoot a stream of cum into her.
She moaned at the feeling of the hot liquid filling her.
"M-more," he said between clenched teeth as he thrust up into her.
Her vision danced as her climax grew, she pushed it back as she focused on flexing her walls around him, squeezing him inside her.
"You're really fucking good," she moaned as his veins and size throbbed inside her, pushing against her walls and sinking so deep in her she couldn't even think.
His head fell further back as he grew bigger.
She couldn't stop as small moans left her throat.
"No one has ever made me cum like you do," she whined and another stream of his cum sunk deep into her.
His hardness didn't leave as he gripped her hips and made her bounce harder.
"You fill me so good," she moaned loudly through ragged breaths.
His sudden shift under her made her squeal as he sat up.
Her legs wrapped around his waist and back.
Their chests collided as his lips fell on hers.
His tongue ran over every part of her mouth, his teeth sinking into her lip as he thrust into her.
Her arms wrapped around his neck and sunk into his short hair.
She moved her hips slowly now and felt as he throbbed inside her.
He was as close as she was.
His eyes snapped open, their lips a breath away.
His eyes looked as dark as the bottom of the ocean as they started into hers.
"Tell me you're only mine," he whispered against her lips as he pushed into her.
She felt herself cumming around him moaning loudly at the possessive word.
His hand wrapped around her throat gently as he thrust into her deep and slow.
"Only tell me if it's true," he sighed as he felt her tighten around his cock.
Her eyes opened and bore into his. Letting every emotion she felt for him fill them with raw intensity.
"I'm yours," she said softly her eyes staring into his.
He smiled at her words, that crooked, wicked smile that said he had her trapped.
She didn't care.
Her eyes were on his smile as she shattered on him, her orgasm taking her so high her back arched and she saw stars.
He tightened his hold on her and thrust harder, her walls so tight around him he had to push roughly to sink back into her.
He grunted lowly as his cock went stiff, shooting her full of his cum.
Her body fell, no longer able to hold herself up, her back meeting the soft sheets under her.
He clambered over her swiftly, his length still in her.
"If you're mine, take me all, Liebe," He said softly as he continued to fuck her with his cum.
She nodded as tears fell from her eyes.
His scarred hands quickly came to her face and wiped them away gently.
He slowly fucked himself into her, making it spread from her walls through her body.
Her eyes rolled so far back in her head that she thought she might never wake up.
When he finally stopped cumming, going limp in her, he gently pulled out and lay next to her.
Her body shook as she felt him leaking from her steadily.
His scarred arms gently wound around her as he pulled her to his chest.
He pulled her body onto his, letting her head slump against his chest, pulling her legs over his hips.
He didn't seem to care his cum was leaking from her and back onto him.
She felt his lips press to her head with a soft kiss.
"Mine," he said again as his hands came to rest on her back.
Moving across her scars and searing a brand into her skin.
Ophelia nodded against his scarred chest.
Tears on her cheeks, sweat coating her skin and a heat in her chest she didn't understand.
"Yours," she said softly as she pressed her face further into his chest.
~~~~~~~~~~
TRANSLATIONS
German
"Weil ich dich niemals gehen lassen werde,"- Because I will never let you go
Meine Liebe- my love
"Mehr, erzähl mir mehr," - more, tell me more
Liebe- love