Keep My Baby Safe

by Bella Grant

  He barked in pleasure. He was going to come. He had been too long without a woman, and Tasha’s skills were second to none. He attacked her flower again, trying to distract himself, but after only a moment he pulled away, afraid he would hurt her in the throes of orgasmic bliss.

  He gritted his teeth as his rapture surrounded him, overwhelming his control…then nothing. She lay on him as he burned in pre-orgasmic fire, thrusting his hips, reaching for his release, his cock throbbing painfully as she held him tight. He groaned in despair as his orgasm began to slip away, then she gave him two quick pumps with her hand.

  His orgasm reformed in an instant, and again he tingled as he hovered over the abyss, every nerve alive, before slowing pulling back. She slapped his cock against her cheek as she covered him with butterfly kisses, a flair of pleasure as bright as the sun roaring through him.

  “Fuck!” he roared, drawing the word out in a long cry of pain and pleasure as he squirmed and bucked, trying to throw her off him to end the exquisite torture she was inflicting.

  She fought him, grunting in effort to keep him under her, but he finally managed to roll her to her side. She clamped her legs around his head as he wrapped his arms around her hips to hold her to his mouth. For the next eternity, she kept him on edge, never allowing him to fall, as his tongue licked and probed, his lips gently pinched and pulled, their grunts, moans and sighs the only sounds as they devastated each other with pleasure.

  She slowly allowed him to relax, and he focused on pleasing this amazing woman. As her gasps and moans became louder and more frequent, she began to pump her hips. He increased the intensity of his kisses and her hips began to thrust harder.

  “Shit! You’re going to make me come again,” she growled before plunging him deep into her mouth.

  He groaned as his desire surged again, but his brief respite had allowed him to gain some measure of control.

  “Fuck…fuck… I’m going to come…fuck,” she chanted slowly. “Ah, fuck!”

  He could sense her approaching crisis, her muscles tightening under her skin as she pushed herself up, her hand slowly stroking his cock, her hisses, puffs, and blows as her rapture rose within her urging him on.

  “Oh…ooh…right there, right there,” she murmured, her voice tight.

  She began to keen softly before she jerked, driving her pussy into his mouth painfully hard, but the sting of the impact only excited him more.

  “Ah…fuck!” she cried as she was wracked with convulsions.

  He held her tight, twisting to his back as she shuddered and thrust to prevent her from hurting herself or him. After a moment she became still, then after a moment more, she relaxed with a long sigh.

  “Jesus fucking Christ,” she gasped as she sagged.

  He ached for her, but he smiled, pleased with his performance. He allowed her to lay on him a moment, her hand gripping his cock, but when she began to stir, he rolled her over gently. There was no resistance, and as he turned, she pulled him into a long, luxurious, kiss. As their tongues engaged in an intimate dance, he started to enter her but hesitated.

  She sighed out of the kiss, her eyes bright, the deadness he’d seen earlier banished. “I’m clean and on the pill,” she murmured. “I want you.”

  He knew he was clean. He’d been checked when he’d arrived home and hadn’t been with anyone since. He pressed into her, the pleasure of his passage causing him to draw in a deep breath. He gazed into her lovely face, swimming in the depths of her eyes as she held his gaze. She nodded slowly, and he began to thrust in a leisurely rhythm. Her head tipped slowly back as her mouth opened in an invitation to be kissed. He accepted the invite as her hands went around his back, her fingers dimpling his flesh as she clamped him tight with her legs.

  He began to move faster, his body taking over, unable to deny his need. His lips found her neck, and her hand was on his head, holding them there.

  “Harder,” she gasped.

  He wasn’t going to last long. He began to drive into her with purpose. Her almost loving embrace, the squeeze of her thighs, and the feel of her moving under him were too much. He began to pound into her hard and fast, his climax rising in him like a storm cloud. He couldn’t stop, he didn’t want to stop. He clamped down on his orgasm, wanting this moment to never end, wanting to give Tasha another orgasm, wanting to never leave this perfect moment in time, but he might as well have been trying to hold back the ocean.

  He cried into her neck, part bellow of pleasure, part sob, as he was tortured by the hardest orgasm of his life. Every hard contraction as he came burned the length of his cock as his body tried to shake itself apart. He ground his teeth as he began fucking her again, plunging into her hard and fast, wringing himself dry of need, but the sensation was searing in its intensity. Tasha whimpered as her fingers bit hard into his back. He couldn’t contain the bellow, his back arching, his head thrown back as he roared, drawing them both up from the bed as she clung tightly to him.

  After a minute, an hour, an eternity, his orgasm washed out of him and they collapsed to the bed. He was wrung out, devoid of strength and unable to move. He lay on her, supporting his weight on his elbows and knees as they panted. Aftershocks rocked through his system, causing him to grunt and shudder as he thrust into her hard and fast before stopping again. Finally, he could feel his strength returning.

  He rolled off her and smiled as she cuddled in close. He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her to lie at his side and partially draped across his chest. She stretched, and his lips found hers before she settled to his chest with a sigh.

  He had no words for her. There were no words to describe how he felt, the shell of guilt and darkness shattered. The pieces were still there, waiting to reform and strangle him again, but so long as Tasha was at his side, he knew they couldn’t bind him, and eventually, they would disappear.

  He looked at her. The pain and darkness were gone from her face as well. He couldn’t heal himself, and Tasha couldn’t heal herself either, but maybe they could heal each other.

  She must have sensed his gaze. Her eyes opened lazily and looked at him before she smiled. A real smile. A beautiful smile. A smile like she had before Derrick—

  He shoved the thought way, not wanting to give the darkness a chance to reclaim him. He leaned over as she stretched again, searching for his lips as her hand touched his face. They kissed slowly, gently, before she relaxed back to his chest with a small smile and a sigh. He had no words for her, and it seemed she had none for him, but it didn’t matter. They didn’t need words. They had shared something. Loss and, perhaps, redemption.

  He sighed, his eyes closing as sleep began to take him. Without realizing it, he slid into sleep, and for the first time in almost a year, his sleep was untroubled by dreams.

  Natasha

  Tasha swam up out of the darkness. She lay quietly, her eyes still closed, waiting for the fog of slumber to lift. She didn’t know the time, but it felt early. She smiled as the veil of sleep lifted and she remembered where she was and what had happened.

  Dan had come to her to offer her comfort and support. He’d told her his story and then…something wonderful, unexpected, and magical had happened. She realized he understood what she was going through. He knew! More than anyone else ever could, he knew.

  She’d felt her heart breaking as he told his tale, and she wanted to ease his burden. He’d made the tiniest of errors in judgment, and he had blamed himself for it for over a year. That was why he wanted to transfer out of the Pararescue. The guilt had been eating him alive.

  But she couldn’t fault him. Who wouldn’t have wanted to take a shower after five days in the jungle? Having Marina join him made no real difference. In fact, she may have saved his life. Had he been in the room with Major Kork when the kidnappers entered, he would probably have been gunned down before he could have reacted.

  He, alone and unarmed, had nearly saved Kork from three armed thugs. If he couldn’t save her, having them kill her had probab
ly been a blessing. If he’d failed and she’d been taken, the horrors she might have had to endure at the hands of the cartel were unthinkable. Her head may have been sent to her family in a box, or worse.

  But if Mexico wasn’t his fault, how could the bar have been hers? He pointed out the dichotomy of her thinking. She had still been trying to work through it when he kissed her. That first fleeting brush of his lips had caught her by surprise. It had been gentle and compassionate, the kiss of a comforting lover, not the kiss of a lustful fuck buddy.

  It had made her want to cry. She hadn’t believed him when he’d said what happened to Derrick and Rich wasn’t her fault. She believed he was saying that because that’s what teammates said to each other to get their heads back in the game. When he’d kissed her the second time, she understood that he’d meant it. His gentle touch showed her that he didn’t blame her and really didn’t think it was her fault. He wanted to accept the blame himself, but they both knew that was bullshit. He’d tried to warn Rich, which had pissed the SEAL off.

  Then she didn’t know what happened, but whatever it was, it was enchanting. Maybe he needed to burn off the guilt, sadness, and rage as much as she did. Maybe it was because he understood what she was going through. Maybe it because they both needed to feel alive. Maybe it was all three, or something else entirely, but whatever it was, she felt like they had connected at a level much deeper than simply being fuck buddies.

  She examined her feelings. The guilt and loss over Derrick and Rich were still there, but it was no longer crippling. She felt Dan’s support, and he carried part of the load on his broad, muscular shoulders. She smiled again as she opened her eyes and stretched with a groan.

  She’d had many men in her bed, but this was one of the few times since Robert that she felt anything for one of them. Most of the others were there to scratch an itch, but Dan was more. More puzzling was the fact that she didn’t feel the need to kick him in balls to make him leave, as she had twice before when she felt this type of attachment forming. She didn’t love him. He was a pleasure to look at, was fantastic in the sack, and had rocked her world last night, but it took more than having her toes curled for her to fall for a guy. But there was that certain something there, that intangible feeling one could sense that brought people together, that made the relationship about more than just physical gratification. She wondered if he felt it too.

  She stretched again and snuggled in closer. He hadn’t lasted very long last night, but who could blame him? She couldn’t go a month without relief, and he’d gone a year. She remembered how she’d teased him, listening to his gasps and groans, how he’d fought for his orgasm as she held him on the knife edge of release. He’d taken it for a while, but then he’d taken charge, and goddamn, he’d turned her on as they’d engaged in a little erotic wrestling. She’d clamped his head between her thighs to try to back him off so she could continue to torture him with pleasure, but he’d doubled down and eaten her to the most face-melting orgasm she’d had in years.

  After that one, she’d thought she was done, but as he fucked her, she could sense his struggle to hold against his climax, and when he’d finally been overwhelmed, it has been the most sensual thing she’d ever experienced. Never had she seen a man come so hard, his entire body wracked with muscle shredding convulsions as he continued to fuck the shit out of her.

  Her final orgasm, small though it was, had come from nowhere and provided the perfect topper. They had come together as she clung to him, feeling the muscles in his back twisting and coiling under her hands as he reared up, lifting her from the bed as she held herself to his chest.

  Tasha slid her hand down his chest and stomach, delighting in the peaks and valleys of his form. He was still asleep, but he was impressively hard. She smiled as she brushed a finger softly along his cock, grinning as it twitched under her touch. He wasn’t as big as he was in her imagination, but he was still thrillingly large. Men hung like horses were only fun in fantasies, whereas Dan was perfect. Large enough to satisfy but not so large to hurt.

  She touched him again.

  “Don’t start something if you’re not willing to finish it,” he rumbled, his voice thick with sleep. His eyes were still closed but a faint smile tugged at his lips.

  “I think I did okay last night.”

  Dan’s smile grew slightly. “Better than okay. I thought I ruptured something.”

  She giggled, feeling almost giddy. There was something about his tone, a playfulness that she’d never heard in his voice before. He stretched with a groan, then tugged softly at a strand of her hair until she met his lips for a kiss. They kissed slowly, softly. The blistering heat of last night was missing, and though she liked the gentleness of his kiss, she worried that he was slipping back into his stupor.

  “Are we okay?” she whispered as the kiss dissolved.

  He watched her eyes. He had such beautiful eyes. “I think so. Are we?”

  The tension drained out of her. “Then yes. How do you feel?”

  “About?”

  “About…Mexico…what happened with Derrick and Rich…us,” she said, her voice halting, almost afraid to bring it up lest it destroy the illusion that last night had somehow cured him. Cured her.

  He watched her a moment. “I’ll never forget what happened to Gretchen, or what happened to Long and Tesley.” He paused. “But what you said last night. It’s made me think.”

  “Is that a good thing?”

  “I don’t know yet. I think so. I know what happened to Derrick and Rich isn’t your fault, but…” He faltered as he shook his head. “I have a lot to think about.” He paused as he watched her. “What about you? Have you given up that stupid-ass notion that what happened was your fault?”

  She put her head back on his chest as she thought about her answer, listening to the thudding of his heart. His hands began to caress her shoulder and arm softly, and it felt nice. It kept the pain at bay.

  “Maybe,” she finally said, not moving, not looking at him. “I still feel responsible, like I let them down.”

  “You didn’t. They were big boys. You can’t be their mother forever.”

  She nodded. “Easy to say, harder to do.”

  “Don’t I know it,” he said softly.

  She looked at him again. “Knowing you understand, that helps me. It helps me a lot.”

  He drew her lips to his. “Same here,” he whispered, her lips so close to his she felt his breath.

  The kiss started out chaste, as slow, soft, and gentle as their previous kiss, but within moments it began to deepen as need bloomed within her. She needed this. She needed his touch, needed to know he was there for her to help her carry the burden of guilt until she could throw it off and leave it behind.

  She squirmed out of his embrace and draped herself over his broad chest. The heat of his flesh, the feel of his sculptured body under hers, the hard lump of his cock against her mound, was intoxicating. As the kiss dissolved, she felt breathless.

  “I want you,” he whispered, holding her gaze with his as his hand played with her hair.

  She felt a tingle with his words. The look on his face, the way he touched her hair, and the light, slow, stroking of her back, all combined to make her feel like this was more than merely fucking, more than simple pleasures of the flesh. They were bonding over their shared experiences.

  “I want you,” she whispered in return.

  Tasha felt him start to turn, clearly intending to dump her to the bed, but she braced herself and he relaxed. She rewarded him with a smile as she adjusted herself and steered him inside. She sighed with his passage, her eyes closing as she pushed up on his chest to take him as deep as possible. Goddamn, he feels good!

  Her head tipped forward as she rocked her hips, the feel of his hardness inside her intoxicating. She inhaled sharply as he touched her breasts, his fingers sliding over her gossamer-light as they left behind crackling trails of delight. She opened her eyes to watch his face. He held her gaze, his
eyes intense yet soft. He gripped her breasts more firmly, teasing their points to aching erectness.

  “You are so beautiful,” he whispered.

  She didn’t know how to answer that, so she said nothing, but she couldn’t stop the smile that teased her lips. He was fucking gorgeous, easily the sexiest man she’d ever bedded. She continued to rock her hips in a slow, easy, rhythm, relishing the feeling of him moving inside her and drawing out their enjoyment.

  Dan pulled her down and tasted her lips, holding her to his chest. She raised her hips slightly, to give him room, and he took over. She broke the kiss, unable to breath as he hit her just right. He sensed the sudden increase in her desire and began to drive into her harder and faster. She moaned, low and deep as she attacked his neck, nibbling and sucking as her lust swirled out of control.

  He picked up his pace again, pounding into her, his breathing becoming hard and fast as he labored under her. They were beginning to sweat from their exertions, their smoothly sliding skin adding to the experience.

  Her orgasm was coming. She pushed against it, wanting to delay the cleansing fire, but it was building too fast and she was losing the battle for control.

  She groaned. “You’re going to make me come. Come with me. I want you to come with me!” she begged.

  “You want me to come?” he panted, his voice deep and rough.

  “Yes. Yes! Please, come with me.”

  He slammed into her furiously hard, a long, continuous growl of effort and lust rumbling deep in his chest. He crushed her to him, holding her almost painfully tight, but she wanted him to hold her tighter still. She couldn’t breathe, but she didn’t know if it was from the constricting embrace of his arms or the bliss that was building within her.