Shocks of pleasure wrack my entire body as he laps against me with his tongue—sucking, tasting, swirling in every pleasure filled direction. Taking my breasts into my hands, I pinch my nipples until the pain is too much to bear. With my knees next to his ears, I rub myself onto his face, harder and wilder until I’m riding his tongue like it’s his hard, thick shaft instead. That’s what I want. I think. Steven groans underneath me, his eyes closed and mirroring an image of ecstasy.
“I taste good?” I moan out. He nods quickly and begins this glorious suck, lick pattern on my clit. My toes curl and my thighs tingle. Mind bending sensations of carnal desire fill my stomach. I want to scream, I want to fuck, I want to come so hard that I can’t see straight.
Steven’s eyes lock on mine as I take exactly what I want from him. He groans and moans as he moves his head and tongue to give me everything he can at the moment. My orgasm comes in waves, every hair on my body standing at attention. I scream out as the pleasure takes control of every muscle in my body, my core quivering and tightening around his tongue and lips repeatedly.
Lowering myself on weak arms I straddle his happy trail and fall against his chest. “Imagine if I could use my hands too.” I hear the cocky smile in his voice.
Turning my head, I kiss his brawny chest and then up to his glistening mouth, coated in my scent. He kisses me back passionately, making up for his lack of hands by kissing me senseless. Dominating me with the emotions that are passing between us in this moment. I open my eyes lazily to find him watching me.
“I need you. I need you. Please?”
His words from earlier wash over me. How he’s wanted to be with me since before I knew exactly what that meant. I can’t deny him or my feelings any longer.
“I need you, Steven.” The honest statement slips from my mouth before I can filter.
He nods his head toward his nightstand. “Condoms are in there. You’re in control of course, but if I’m not inside you soon I will break the bed getting out of these cuffs, and you’ll be pressed against the wall with my cock so far inside you that it may never come back out.” He says this with a serious expression and I don’t think I’ve ever been more turned on by words than those that he just spoke. My stomach flips with desire.
Without any hesitation I lean over his wildly panting chest and remove a condom from the drawer. It’s been a while since I’ve used a condom, but I manage to open it and slide it over his ridged, creaming erection without much fuss. I rise on my knees while his eager eyes watch my every move, and I gently slide him into me. I’m wet, but it still takes a couple seconds to adjust to his width. I sink down about halfway and relish the sensation of being filled with a hard, warm dick after feeling so empty for so long.
“Holy shit,” I whisper, my eyes closed, soaking in every sensation. Placing my hands on his chest, I steady myself and lower a little bit more until he’s almost all the way in.
“Double holy shit,” Steven says, pulling against the cuffs in vain. Raising my bottom, I slide up and then sink all the way down, until he’s pressed against the very back—a painful, pleasurable feeling. Steven growls, jutting his hips up, wanting friction, needing me to move.
“Give me a second,” I say, swirling my hips in a circle, getting used to his size and just because this angle hits my g-spot perfectly. I could come again and again just like this. “I just want to feel you inside me,” I whisper. He presses his hips up more and more, and before long I need to move—the tension is too much and I need his thickness slamming into me.
“Fuck!” Steven roars when I start riding him, my hips swaying in a perfect motion as I bounce up and down on him, enjoying the stretching and the pounding rhythm that we’re making together.
“Feels so good,” I mumble, my words broken by our furious pace. His rigid cock glides against my insides, forcing me open more and more with each thrust. “Fuck me harder,” I yell. His eyes flare with possession as he slams into me faster and more wildly, the handcuffs restraining him in more ways than one. His abs flex as he uses his hips to buck his cock deep inside me. I watch his thick member disappear and reappear as he hammers away, lost in sensations.
I imagine his hands on my hips, him and him only controlling the pace, and that’s all it takes to send me over the edge. I contract around his warm shaft over and over as I scream out for more—for more cock, for more connection, for more of Steven. I’ll never grow tired of this, and now, in a post coital haze, I’m upset I waited so long. I need to be fucked by this man several times a day. I clench around him to hold him in this position. I feel him flex his dick inside me and a breathy moan escapes me as it gently puts pressure on my g-spot.
Steven squeezes his eyes shut, tilts his chin to the ceiling, and comes with a loud growl, his hips jutting wildly with each of his hot jets of cum. We both breathe for uncountable minutes, letting the silence and moment wrap us. The pulling of his handcuffs breaks the moment and gets my attention. “I think I can get used to this,” he says, rocking his hips again because now he knows exactly how good it feels for me. I let my body weight force me down as far as I can go.
Reluctantly, I slide up and off his glorious, softening shaft and unlock the cuffs by pressing the release button. He rubs his wrists and pulls me in to press his lips against mine.
“I missed kissing you, though.”
I can’t deny I didn’t. Steven sits up, slides the condom off with a grace that demonstrates his experience and knots it before tossing it into the trash can in the bathroom. His face is so relaxed and carefree as he drops onto the bed next to me, scooting next to me to press his naked body against mine. I tell him that I’ll do anything to have him inside me again. I also mention my plans to start birth control pills again. This cock unsheathed inside me is going on top of my to-do list. Steven agrees with my plan whole-heartedly. I stay wrapped around his glistening body, listening to his heartbeat. He strokes my hair and I feel at complete ease.
Sighing, he says, “What do you call a man who finally bagged the girl of his dreams?”
I shake my head when I feel his face in my hair. He inhales deeply. I play along. “What?”
“Other than deliriously happy and Steven Warner? Lucky.”
“That wasn’t funny.”
He pulls me closer. “It wasn’t meant to be,” he whispers.
I fall asleep without realizing I never, not even for one tiny second, thought about my husband. And that fact is either promising or horrendous.
I’m not sure which.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Steve
I’VE BEEN AWAY for too long. One work trip rolled into another, and then another. I’m itching to get back home to Morganna now that our sexual relationship requires intense exploring, but all of the training also has me itching to deploy, to do for real what we’re getting ready for. The part of me that makes me different, special even, forces abnormal notions about things such as a dangerous deployment. The thrill I seek only comes from knowing I’m able to do something that nobody else can. Most want to. Many try to be SEALs, and a tiny, miniscule fraction are actually good enough to make it. Because I know I’m damn good at my job, I don’t fear what comes next.
When you live your life to the fullest potential at every given moment, you don’t fear death. I should, but I can’t, even though I know firsthand what it does to the people who left behind. People like Morganna who, despite their best efforts, can’t pretend they aren’t affected. We speak on the phone daily, and I know she’s busy with work most of the time. It doesn’t keep me from wondering about her late at night, when her phone stops ringing and after Phillipe leaves. What is she thinking? Who is she thinking about? Do thoughts of me dominate memories of Stone? Do I want them to? Does that make me a horrible person? I’m caught in between utter infatuation with her and dread.
Gunner is staying with her while I’m gone because she offered to take him, but of course I have ulterior motives. I imagine the dog ripping an intruder limb from limb w
ith a smile on my face. I’m sure my smile is misconstrued by anyone at our current location. The fancy, over the top, hotel pool party we’re currently attending is, as usual, out of control. Drinks are spilling, pool lights are flashing every time someone careens into the cool water. Clear plastic cups with fruit adornments are everywhere, scattered on the patio, on the tables, and some even floating in the water. Vodka is in the air, and the scent of sun lotion morphed into perfume a few hours ago. Our cabana is packed with muscles and huge titties.
Though his intentions were halfway decent, I’m still pissed at Cody. “I thought you were lying about Morganna, Steve. I also never thought Chloe would one, respond to the text, or two, even be in town!” Cody takes another sip of his drink, one arm slung around a blonde woman who could actually pass as Chloe.
I jack off the air in front of my dick and then waft my hand in front of his face. “Whatever, man. The night ended the way it was supposed to anyways, but next time you should know that I’ll never need your help getting laid.” I tip back the contents of my brown bottle and angle myself toward Maverick. He’s rapt in a conversation with a newer Team Guy, or the F.N.G, Fucking New Guy. Several tens are loitering around, hoping to catch Mav’s attention. Little do they know they don’t have a shot in a freezing hell with him. Maverick’s milkshake always brings the ladies to yard, I have to give him that even if I don’t plan on partaking.
I nudge his ribs to get his attention. “Your fan club needs tending,” I joke. For the first time he notices the tanned legs and short dresses. “Go easy on them, man.” I say.
He laughs, a growling panther laugh, while digging his cell phone out of his pocket. What he does next leaves me shaking my head. He scrolls through his camera, showing the women photos of Windsor and the kids.
Their faces turn ambivalent, as their gazes dart to their next target. You have to love a frog hog, even a desperate one. There was a time I would have taken advantage of the situation—would have pounced on them and woken the next morning with a clear conscience. This oddly inappropriate scenario is also part of my job. Some of the married and attached men are honorable, and some aren’t. Sometimes seeking a thrill, which is part of our personalities, comes in many forms. I’m sure it’s just that, though. A cheap thrill, a cheat they can get away with and never think of again.
Morganna knows exactly how our off time is spent; she understands it. She knows I am an honorable man. I want Morganna more than I want any other thrill; even if I didn’t have the chase for dominance I’d be all in.
It’s eleven o’clock at night. I send her a text. What are you thinking about?
My heart speeds as I watch for her response. Now I’m thinking about you. I was thinking that dogs are far superior at snuggling than humans. Gunner is mine now. FYI.
I laugh. I watch as Cody leaves the cabana, drink in hand, and Maverick shows off some seriously awkward dance moves. Teaching the new guy? I grimace. Glancing back at my lit screen, I imagine her in the bed with my dog. She’s thinking about me. That’s all that should matter. This should be good night, but the beer has taken control of my fingers. Do you think about him?
Her reply. Of course.
I have trouble catching my breath for a moment or two. I expected that reply. More than me?
The childish tone of the message makes me cringe. I’m a grown ass man asking for reassurance about something that should be a no-brainer. I feel sick and it’s not from the abundance of alcohol flooding my system. My steel-trap stomach is no opponent for Morganna. I bounce the phone on my knee, impatient.
That’s an unfair question. She responds after a full minute. I stand up and pace a bit.
I never intended for the conversation to go this way. I never realized I cared until now. It’s why I can’t fuck her brains out without wearing handcuffs. It’s why she closes her eyes when she comes around my dick, screaming my name. It’s why she’s avoided sex with me for so long and yet I turned a blind eye to it. Draining another beer, I put my phone in my pocket before I say something I’ll regret later, and I will surely regret it.
My cell chimes, alerting me to a phone call. Sighing, I take it out of my pocket and I’m ambushed by a photo of Morganna, black hair swinging, pouting lips perfected in gloss, teeth beaming white in a smile. If I answer it will be catastrophic. I walk to an abandoned area of the pool deck and straddle a lawn chair. Laying down, I gaze at the stars swirling overhead.
I hit the fucking green button. Because the red would be like telling her no. “Hello,” I say, clearing my throat.
“Don’t text me when it’s obvious you have something on your mind you want to talk about. Texting is for Hollywood breakups and teenaged drama. Maybe even sexting, but it doesn’t seem that was the angle you were aiming for.” Morganna’s voice is sleepy, but calm. She’s not upset. Not like me.
“I don’t want to talk right now, Morg.”
“You’ve been drinking. How much?” Her voice takes on a worried note. “I knew you were partying because I spoke with Windsor earlier, but I wasn’t sure of the extent…”
I sigh. “I’ve had a few beers. I’m not sure I can compete with a ghost, M. I drink too much and the truth rears its nasty head. Do you think about him when you’re fucking me? Because you do fuck me. It’s not the other way around.” I swallow loudly. Too brash. Too forward. I’m an idiot.
I hear her soft breaths through the line and it calms me. She takes in a deep breath. It will go either way. Fury or tears. There’s no in between. “It’s not easy for me, Steven. We both knew this would be a challenge. You understood. You said you understood the very odd situation we’re in. There’s no competition. If you’ve forgotten, Stone is dead. He’s not coming back to challenge you to a duel, or to take your place. All that Stone wants is the piece of my heart that’s his. I owe him that.”
I close my eyes. When I open them, a tiny shooting star darts across the sky, as if telling me I better wish my fucking ass off if I’m going to get out of this alive. Her words slice me even though they should reassure.
The bottom of a fresh beer appears over my head. “Think fast,” a male voice says a moment before the full bottle falls. I catch it with my free hand just before it hits me in the face. I nod my thanks and twirl the cap off with my forearm—because another beer is probably a good idea right now.
“Fuck my heart, is it? Don’t worry about me. The heart is a muscle. We both understand I know how to control muscles. All of them.” The words are out. I swallow half of my new beer and wait. I’m not sure for what. Maybe I want to make her feel something. Anything. Love. Hate. I’ll take either at this point.
“You’re such an asshole, Steven Warner. If I didn’t know any better I’d tell you to fuck off, but because I know you’re piss drunk and will regret this tomorrow, why don’t you go sleep it off and call me in the morning?” So practical. So indifferent. It infuriates me. I kill the beer and throw it down, shattering the glass on the cool deck beside the pool. No glass. That’s what the sign said. Oops. “Go to bed,” she repeats.
“Maybe I will go to bed, Morg. Maybe I’ll even go to bed with a woman who will let me fuck her proper. She’ll let me have her any way I want her.” I glance around me, scouting for potentials. “How would that affect your heart? Or would it at all?”
“Don’t threaten me. Don’t you dare say things like that unless you intend to follow through, in which case, thank you for the head’s up.”
I shake my head, furious. Nothing. She’s still giving me nothing. I’m not sure how much I can give before I’m tapped out—a shell of myself, with nothing left inside except Morganna Sterns.
“Of course it would affect me,” she whispers, her voice cold. She didn’t want to tack that on, but probably thought better knowing my temper. Or she thinks I really will act on my asshole threat. “We can discuss our sex life when you get back. If talking is what you want to do,” she snips.
I hear a male voice in the background. “Who is that,” I slur, si
tting up in the chair. People have made their way over to my quiet corner, a couple making out in a lawn chair a few down from me.
“Don’t concern yourself with what I’m doing, Steven. Just remember I’m not the one threatening to cheat on you.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, I would never cheat on you!” I yell into the phone. People around me startle. “I just want more. I want all of you. You can’t blame a man for that. I get bits and pieces and snippets of your body and your mind.”
Ignoring my sentiment completely, she says, “It’s my private detective. He’s dropping off a package. Someone’s been trailing my car lately.”
My heart leaps into my throat. My pulse throbs wildly. I’m not there. I can’t protect her. Standing on wobbly legs, I lay my head on my arms while leaning against the fence that surrounds the pool area. “Why are you just now telling me?”
I hear her muffle the microphone on her phone as she talks to the detective—if that’s who is really there. It’s probably that asshole, Alex.
“Why?” I raise my voice even louder this time.
“It’s my business. Mine. Not yours.” My blood pressure is probably that of an obese, out of shape man running a marathon.
“You are my business. I want to talk to him. Now.”
She laughs. “A second ago you were taking another woman to bed and now my safety is your business? I’m convinced you’ve drunk yourself stupid. Call me in the morning. Be careful, Steven. Don’t worry about me. I’m safe. It’s handled.” She hangs up.
I stand there with the silent phone pressed against my ear for entirely longer than is normal. I feel my fingers tightening around the phone, wanting to break it, shatter it, kill it. Maverick comes up behind me, putting one hand on my shoulder.
“Why don’t we get you to bed, killer?” His voice is light and I know for a fact Morganna has called him and this is his attempt to appease her. It makes me want to do the opposite.
The Crazy Good SEAL Series: Books 1-3 Page 50