Filthy SEAL

by Amy Brent

  I had this one moment to just be myself and carve a little slice of happiness out of this world and my life for my own.

  “Well then – maybe you'd care to join me upstairs?” I asked, my voice was barely more than a whisper as I stared across at Deacon.

  He raised an eyebrow and and looked at me for a long moment before laughing almost hysterically.

  “Damn. That was a good one, love,” he said. “You almost had me. I almost believed ya for a second, until I remembered what a good lil girl you are.”

  Standing up, I walked over to where Deacon was sitting in the chair, staring at me with those deep, blue eyes of his. Never taking my eyes off of him, I straddled him in the chair, sitting down in his lap, one leg on each side of him. I felt his erection pressing into my warm, suddenly very wet center – I knew he wanted it. And judging by the fire burning between my thighs, so did I.

  His laugh was a little nervous and he was looking anywhere but into my eyes. I could tell that he was trying so hard to be on his best behavior because he wasn't like the other men in the Irish mob I'd encountered – he had morals and values. And his values told him that taking advantage of girls like me – in the position he had me in – was wrong.

  But what if I wanted him to take advantage of me? Was it wrong in that case? Would that go against his morals and values? Would it go against mine? I didn't know. About the only thing I was sure of, was that I was tired of other people controlling my life.

  “Maybe I'm tired of being such a good girl, Deacon,” I said, softly pressing my lips to his.

  He didn't pull away, but he didn't kiss me back either. I pushed my long hair over my shoulder and lowered myself so I could run the tip of my tongue along his neck, taking in his musky, manly scent. Savoring it. He smelled so good, I didn't know why I'd never noticed it before, but his scent did wonders to my libido. It made the fire in me burn even brighter, almost involuntarily making me grind myself into him.

  Deacon let out a muffled groan as I sucked and kissed his neck, but he didn't join in the fun. He was trying to be good, to not give into me. I could tell by how hard his cock was that he wanted to – he really wanted to. But he was trying to restrain his carnal urges. It looked like I was going to have to do more convincing.

  Pulling back, I gave him my best, most sultry bedroom eyes.

  “Please Deacon? Please let me have this?” I said. “Let me have you? If only this once?”

  “Not that I don't appreciate the offer love, but what exactly are you hoping to get out of fucking me?”

  “Honestly?”

  He nodded. “I'd appreciate it.”

  “I want to take back my body,” I said. “So if I have to marry that creep, at least I know I don't go him pure. That I kept something for myself. He doesn't deserve that, Deacon.”

  “And I do?”

  I shrugged. “If I'm being honest, I find you incredibly attractive at least. Him? Not in the least. I'll have to fake it with him and hope I don't throw up when he touches me. At least with you – well, I might have a chance at enjoying it. And I think I deserve that.”

  Deacon smiled. “Oh, you'll enjoy it alright. I guarantee it.”

  “Does this mean – ”

  But before I could finish my question though, Deacon kissed me – hard – shoving his tongue into my mouth and literally taking my breath away. His hands were suddenly on my waist, pulling me down onto his stiff cock. His fingers dug into my flesh, pulling me down harder and even through my clothes, and I felt just how hard he was for me.

  So hard and so large that I had to admit – it scared me a bit. Given that it was my first time, I was afraid that I would do something wrong or not be very good. Especially with a man like Deacon who had so much experience with sex under his belt. As I ground myself against him and he kissed me, a million questions swirled through my mind. Would I actually be able to take all of him into me? Would it hurt? Would he be gentle with me, I wondered?

  With my heart racing and adrenaline surging through my body, I knew that I was about to find out. Reaching down, I fumbled with Deacon's pants, trying to unzip them while also straddling him – a feat I found more difficult than I'd first though.

  “The movies make this look so much easier,” I said, color rushing to my cheeks.

  Deacon stood, picking me up, and carried me over to the couch. My legs were wrapped around his body and when he laid me down, he came down with me.

  “Here, let me take care of the hard stuff,” he said, removing my pants with one hand – to my ever-lasting amazement.

  He moved down lower on my body, and I stared down at him, confused as to what he was doing at first, but when his mouth found my clit, it all made perfect sense. My body arched upward toward him as I gasped in surprise.

  “Figured you'd need to be warmed up a bit, love,” he said.

  Deacon went to town on my pussy, sucking and licking and doing all kinds of crazy things that drove me absolutely wild. I never knew a man could enjoy this so much – and surely, I'd never enjoyed myself so much – but I could tell that Deacon was having fun with it, taking his time and looking up at me with those icy blue eyes of his while he pleasured me.

  “Deacon, oh God, Deacon,” I muttered, tossing my head from side-to-side.

  There was a sensation low in my body, a tightness in the muscles of my vagina, as the swelling of pleasure started building up inside of me. It felt like I might explode, and I had to wonder if this is what it felt like to orgasm with a man. I'd pleasured myself in the past, sure, but this was different. This was – magical. And as that sensation built, I could tell that it was going to be far more powerful than any orgasm I'd ever given myself.

  And as I reached the peak, Deacon grabbed onto my ass and lifted me closer to him, fucking me with his tongue as the spasms took control of my body as well as my mind. My entire body exploded in pleasure, wave after wave of electrical impulses sending me thrashing wildly on the couch, only held in place by Deacon's strong hands.

  I was gasping and my body already felt a little wrung out, but Deacon wasn't done with me yet. Staring up at me with his face slick with my juices, he removed his pants.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.

  “Yes, Deacon, yes,” I said, writhing on the couch, needing to feel him inside of me.

  My first time shouldn't be with some old family friend. And it shouldn't be the consummation of a goddamn business deal. My first time should be with someone I was attracted to. Somebody I wanted. And regardless of how fucked up the situation was and why I was there in the first place, I found that I was deeply attracted to Deacon.

  “I'm positive, Deacon!” I almost shouted. “I need you inside of me.”

  Deacon lowered himself on top of me and I could feel his dick pressing directly against my opening. Squeezing my eyes shut, I braced for the pain they always told you about the first time you had sex, but he hesitated and didn't enter me. I opened my eyes, not understanding what was happening and why he wasn't inside of me yet.

  I stared into those baby blue eyes and he smiled at me – actually smiled! And then he kissed me softly. Like he knew that this would be unpleasant for me, and he was going slow to minimize any pain. My kidnapper taking the time to consider my feelings? That shocked the hell out of me – and whether he'd intended to or not, told me a lot about the character of this man.

  I'd used dildos before, so it wasn't like nothing had ever entered my body before The only difference was that I'd never put anything inside of me that was this large or this real before. As the tip of his cock pressed against my opening, I gasped. And when he slowly stretched me open as he slid into my, I groaned and bit my bottom lip hard. My eyes opened wide as he entered me, inch by glorious inch. There was a momentary flash of pain, but then a tsunami of pleasure that followed.

  Judging by the look on his face, I could tell he wanted to thrust inside me, wanted to fuck me hard. But he moved slowly, deliberately taking his time, savoring the
sensation of my tight pussy closing in around his cock.

  Because of the wetness from both my natural juices and from his mouth, it hurt far less than I had expected it to. There was some pain, yes, but it was a good type of pain. Pleasure mixed with pain – which only heightened the sensations and made them all the more potent. I held onto Deacon and gasped as he entered me, finally filling me up completely.

  Eyes wide, I stared up at him, shocked at the feeling of it all. I'd never had been filled up so completely, not like this. No toy had ever come close. And the warmth of his body, the warmth of his cock deep inside of me – it was all so surreal.

  Slowly, Deacon started moving back and forth, in and out of me. Fucking me. He looked at me and I could see the concern in his eyes – he was worried about hurting me. I smiled at him and moaned as he kept moving in and out. This was it. I was having sex. I was giving myself to a man and it wasn't Tony.

  Just knowing that made me feel so happy. So – victorious. In control. It was an empowering feeling that I relished every bit as much as the feeling of having Deacon's cock inside of me.

  “Fuck, you're tight,” he said through gritted teeth, his eyes shut tightly.

  “Never been with a virgin before?” I asked.

  “Not that I'm aware of,” he said, his voice more gravely than normal. “But damn, you feel amazing.”

  And he felt amazing too. Once the initial pain wore off, the pleasure hit me with the force of a sledgehammer. Deacon was able to speed up, moving in and out of me with such ease, building a rhythm that worked for us. Our bodies were moving in unison – I rose up to meet each of his thrusts, burying him deeper inside of me. This was all so new. So raw. So magical. And yet, with Deacon, it felt so normal. So natural. So – perfect.

  And when that familiar tingling started low in my belly, that heat rising up from below, I knew I wasn't going to last very much longer. He'd brought me to that brink again with such ease that I felt like I was still trying to catch my breath from the last orgasm he'd given me.

  “I'm going to come, Deacon,” I cried out, digging my nailes into his back and writhing underneath him.

  How he managed to keep himself inside of me while I squirmed so much, I had no clue. But he somehow managed to continue thrusting in and out of me, keeping a rhythm that was driving me absolutely crazy.

  His breathing was growing more and more ragged though, and I sensed he was also close. As I came, my pussy clenched tighter around him and he let out a groan from deep within his chest, burying himself into me even deeper than before. I could feel him throbbing inside of me as he shuddered above me, his eyes shut tight as he filled me with his seed.

  The warmth from his cum caused me to come again, and this time, I couldn't hold back the screams. I let it out, calling his name over and over again as together, we came.

  EMELIA

  Deacon and I spent a few more days in that cabin, and after we'd found a way to occupy ourselves, I really didn't care if we ever went back to the city. I knew it was wrong. I shouldn't be sleeping with the enemy. And I knew that I should go back to my family, but my father was the one who'd used me as property – essentially trading me as part of a business deal.

  At least with Deacon, I knew what he was about. He'd been straight forward with me from the start. No, he wasn't a good guy, but he also treated me better than any man I'd ever met. He was considerate and in his way, kind. And that surprised me. It surprised me quite a lot, actually. Deacon never stopped surprising me.

  “So have you heard from my father recently?” I asked him, staring over at him beside me in bed.

  “Colin said they were talking yesterday,” he replied. “Said they were making plans for the deed to be done.”

  “You mean Tony's murder?” I asked, cringing as I said it.

  “Yes, if that's what you prefer to call it, then yes. Tony's murder.”

  “And you honestly think my father is going to go through with this?” I asked. “That he's not going to weasel his way out of it somehow?”

  Deacon shrugged and rolled over, pulling me closer. Neither one of us were wearing much clothing and I reveled in the sensation of his warm skin pressed to mine.

  “You're his precious daughter. He'd do anything for you.”

  I bit my lip and held back the harsh words I had for my father. I didn't think it was appropriate and tried to rein it in, but Deacon could see that something was bothering me. He stared at me with soulful, inquiring eyes.

  “Or am I wrong about that?” he asked.

  “I don't know, it's just – I feel like I'm only important to him as a bargaining chip these days. As a piece to be included in some business transaction. And if Tony is dead, I'm no good to him anyway, so maybe he'll find an alternative way to keep the deal on the table.”

  “You really think your father cares so little for you?”

  I shrugged, looking at the wall instead of Deacon. A complex mix of emotions churned within me. Yes, I thought he loved me. But I also thought he loved the fact that I could enhance his wealth and prestige even more.

  “What am I supposed to think, Deacon? I was given away to Tony Bellini like – like some object, some commodity,” I said.

  For the first time, my true anger started to come out and a rage that was dark and abiding began to bubble to the surface as I let it all out.

  “I'm just not sure I – as a person – really matter to my father,” I went on. “Or to anyone for that matter. Which is honestly, why I'm not in any hurry to go back. You notice that I haven't tried to escape, haven't you? I haven't because I haven't felt that my life is in danger. At least here, I don't have Tony's filthy hands trying to grope me against my will.”

  Deacon kissed me, long and hard, taking my breath away once again. When he pulled back, he looked me in the eye and opened his mouth as if to say something, but then closed it again. He looked confused, almost surprised by what he was going to say.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” he mumbled.

  “No, it's not nothing. You wanted to say something. What was it?”

  “Just that – well, just that I think you're being too hasty if you think you don't matter to anyone. There are people who care about you, Emmy, believe it or not.”

  “Yeah, I mattered to my mother. But she's long dead. Or how about Tabitha – the best friend who's jealous of me for being forced to marry Tony because he's rich? Or the fiance who tells me he can't wait to bend me over and take my virginity from me, whether I like it or not?”

  Tears welled up in my eyes. For the first time, I knew that I didn't want to go back. As crazy as it sounded, I wanted to stay there, in that cabin with Deacon forever. But I knew that wasn't possible. He was a mafia leader. He'd eventually have to get back to the city and to his business intrests and let me go. And I was pretty positive he was going to let me go. He certainly wasn't going to hurt me.

  But at the same time, I didn't think that Deacon was a saint in all this either. I knew he had plenty of ulterior motives. In his defense though, he'd never pretended to care for me as a person – he'd been up front about his uses for me from the start. At least he'd been honest.

  “But while we're on the subject, Deacon, I know better than to think you care about me because to you, I'm just a pawn in your game,” I said. “And as soon as my father gives you what you want, you're going to drop me off and leave me behind. So no, I don't think anyone actually cares about me.”

  Deacon reached over and grabbed my face in his hands, forcing me to look up at him. He stared into my eyes as he spoke. “Emmy, you're right and you're also wrong. Maybe, it started out that way. You were a pawn. You were a means to an end for me. But over the time we've spent together and as I've gotten to know you, I – I've come to care about you. It sounds nuts, believe me, I know. And nobody is more surprised to hear those words coming out of my mouth than I am. But it's true. There's just something about you and I've come to care about you – as a person. And if you do
n't want to go back there, we can find a way to keep you from ever going back to your father again. You hear me? I give you my word.”

  “You'd risk your deal – your business – because of me?”

  “It's not risking anything, love. I promised your father you'd be free if he gave me what I wanted. You'd be free. You could choose to stay, if you wanted, and I'd make sure he'd never come get you. And I promise you that Tony will never lay his hands on you again, you got that?”

  I couldn't believe Deacon freely admitted that he'd developed feelings for me like this. He was wrong when he'd said that nobody was more surprised by his admission than him – I was absolutely floored by it. But since he had – I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe that I could be free from the Antonelli family legacy, and that I wouldn't end up like my mother or the endless line of women who happened to be born into the family. That it didn't have to be my life – not if I didn't want it to be.

  I wanted to believe that more than anything.

  But my father had his ways of getting what he wanted. Always had and I suspected, always would. Even though Deacon had proven himself to be a worthy opponent in their little game, he was still young and had a lot to learn about the life of a true crime family.

  And I had to face facts – even if Tony wound up dead, my dad would find me. If not because of the alliance with the Bellini's, then because I was his. His property. His possession. His – thing. And there was no way he'd allow me to be with Deacon, not as long as he was alive.

  Still, I wanted to revel in the fantasy a bit longer. Stroking Deacon's cheek, I smiled up at him.

  “You'd do that, for me?”

  “I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'd do anything for you, Emmy,” he said, kissing the top of my head gently.