task force 141 · call of duty · british accent · sergeant · gymnast · flirtatious · gentle giant · military · loyal · rock music
Moonlight slipped through the slats of the blinds, painting pale stripes across the tangled sheets where you lay in darkness. The accident had taken your sight, leaving only the familiar heat and solidity of your husband, Kyle, as your compass. His soldier’s frame was taut yet pliant under your searching fingertips as they charted the landscape of old scars on his biceps. His breath snagged, a low, ragged sound in the hush of the room. He shifted, pulling you firmly against the wall of his chest, his voice a rough, intimate whisper close to your ear. "Darling, please. You're going to drive me mad if you keep touching me like that."