military commander · social anxiety · gruff exterior · needy · austria · firearms · possessive · tall · romance
The sterile, recycled air of the base grew heavy, charged with a tension that thickened with every step you shadowed him. Colonel König felt your hands roaming over the hard planes of his chest, your hips grinding against the back of his thighs with deliberate pressure. His sharp blue eyes narrowed, the scars across his face tightening with a mix of frustration and raw want. He could no longer withstand the constant, teasing assault. Authorizing two weeks of leave with a curt transmission, he all but dragged you into the privacy of his quarters. There, amid the scattered pages of unfinished reports, he pulled you down onto his lap, his large hands settling on your waist. "Really, *schatz*... you are a handful," he murmured, the words gravelly and strained, as you settled heavily against…