SEAL'd Legacy (Brotherhood of SEAL'd Hearts)

by Gabi Moore

  We liked to draw this part out. Draw it out so slow that every inch of him deserved several breaths, till every part of him was deep and settled inside me, the perfect fit. I swear I could feel him grow bigger even still, crammed completely inside, his body expanding to take the shape of mine.

  He tried to put his hands again at my hips but I firmly removed them, placed them back where they were and let him know with a stern look that I would be controlling things from now on. He bit his lower lip as I rose my hips off him, letting that gorgeous cock glide slickly out of me, then at the tip I lowered again, finding that sweet inside place once more, wiggling down to get even the slightest bit deeper. Just having him inside me was enough to drive me wild. Just the weight of that thick, heavy cock spreading me open inside had my pussy streaming wet onto my inner thighs. My body knew well what pleasures were coming, and knowing they were coming was half the pleasure itself.

  The beach sand was cool and damp under my knees, and the trees whispered silky above our heads, casting down their mottled shade on our bodies. Far inside me, in some invisible place, something quivered with hunger. Something that only he could sate. I settled my weight over him, hovered parted lips close to his ear and began to slowly fuck him. My rhythm was inspired by the wistful rise and fall of the waves off in the distance.

  Cheek to cheek, I pleasured myself on his body and he responded keenly, tilting his hips up to fill me, to move with me as I stroked that delicious spot inside and found myself inching closer and closer. When I began whimpering, his lips went to my cheek and planted dozens of tiny, soothing pecks there, encouraging me, daring me to go harder, go faster.

  But I didn’t need any encouragement. I raised my body and arched my back again, throwing my full weight down on his cock and swirling my hips over him, then, still not satisfied, lifting and dropping onto him with a juicy slap, a feverish tempo that I didn’t want to stop for anything in the world. His clenched jaw told me he was right where I was. Right at that quivering precipice where going any further would mean surrendering to it all… and so we went for more, together.

  All at once, his ab muscles crunched hard as he lifted himself up and sent me jumping off his lap.

  “Get on your hands and knees,” he barked.

  It’s not like I could have resisted, even if I wanted to. I obeyed and savored how a damper, darker sand was hidden just underneath the white beach sand, there when I clawed at the ground to stable myself for what was to come.

  It was beautiful soil. Cool and deep and rich, fed from the ocean underneath it, half water and half earth, some perfect blend of hard and soft, yielding in my fists as I sunk my fingers into it.

  I lowered my chest and raised my hips up, collarbones nearly grazing the ground, my hair falling into the sand and shells. This hair he grabbed in a fist and yanked back to bring my head back up again. I let my eyes fall closed as I felt him admiring me…

  “I just want to remember this moment,” he said when I turned to gaze at him. He had torn off his trousers and was fully naked now.

  “I want to remember what you looked like right before I made you come all over my cock.”

  The kick of pleasure this sent through me was enough to make me want to come there and then. I shut my eyes and offered my ass up to him again.

  We were the last two souls alive, who was to tell us what was right and wrong? What we could and couldn’t do to one another?

  “Do it,” I muttered low under my breath, daring him.

  He was swift. His hips came banging hard into mine, bringing the full, fat length of his brutal cock into me. I swallowed down a yelp and let the waves pass through me. Again he thrust, his now bare skin slapping against mine, and again he thrust, and again, till I could barely breath. His cock burrowed deeper into me with every pulse, reaching even those furthest parts in my body, those parts that made my whole body tingle and go limp from pleasure.

  “Oh fuck,” I groaned.

  His pace was strong and unrelenting. He knew that when I was this turned on, he could be as rough with me as he liked. Turns out, what he liked was to be pretty rough… He had me firmly by the hair, so that I couldn’t resist or squirm away from his fucking even by even one inch. No. I was to receive every part of him, to the full, right in my deepest, most tender parts. When I felt myself starting to come I could barely sputter out a cry. Because he didn’t stop, because he kept fucking me straight through, I came long and hard, each thrust drawing out my syrupy pleasure like taffy. I screamed long and loud when I couldn’t stand any more, and the bliss exploded right through me. He kept fucking me until he came too. Fucked me hard until I could feel his hips bump and shudder as he dug into me one last time and delivered that wet load of cum inside me, his hands clasping onto my hips for dear life.

  “Fuck yes,” he growled and I felt his cock twitch and bounce inside me. I moaned and clenched around him, milking him, my cheek now flat on the cool ground as I came down from my own thundering orgasm. We both collapsed down onto one another, covered in sweet and sand, giggling at how disgusting beach sex turned out to actually be.

  “That was fucking incredible,” he said, chest heaving, whacking the sand off his knees.

  I turned to give him a mischievous smile as he settled down beside me. What could be more perfect than laying here nude on a beach, freshly fucked by a man that I loved, filled to the brim with the juiciest, most perfect part of him? What could be more perfect than watching the palm fronds sway and dance over us, first showing the blue of the sky, then hiding it?

  “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked all at once, and propped up onto his elbows to stroke the wild hair from my face. I shook my head. He kissed me. We were like two exhausted sprinters, celebrating after the finish line, muscles still twitching hard.

  “Want to go for a swim?” he said eventually, and got to his haunches.

  “Absolutely.”

  We raced each other down to the shore, naked as the day we were born, but wiser.

  And happier.

  We kicked up the white foam as we splashed into the waves, laughing madly. We dunked under the water and let the cold wash over our hot bodies. It was the most delightful feeling in all the world. Todd let go of my hand and dunked under again, coming back up with a drop on each little spike of his hair. He shook it off and beamed at me, then fell backwards into the water to float on his back. I joined him, dissolving into the weightlessness of hovering just on the surface, the soft water lapping at my nude breasts, and slipping over the mound of my belly.

  My ears went deaf for a moment and I stared up at the blue. The water drops in my eyelashes caught rainbows as I gazed up at the blazing sunshine, blissful. I could still feel him inside me. Could still feel the aftershocks of coming, as he said I would, all over his juicy cock.

  I smiled.

  After we had washed ourselves in the salty waves and I had twisted my hair back up into a knot on the top of my head, we walked out and back to shore to retrieve our clothes. Todd was strong and noble-bodied. I was a little more inelegant, and I hobbled after him, my little stump well healed over but still gnarled and angry looking. None of that mattered to me now, though. This body of mine was a miracle. All the life that had been poured into it was a miracle; it was big enough to hold me, and beautiful Todd, and the new little one that would be here any day now…

  We made our way back to the boat, salt-sticky and feeling wiped out, but happy. We had a few hours to make our way back to shore now, and I would let this island heal up like a wound, let the ocean close up over it in my mind and never think about it again.

  I will never know why any of it happened in the first place. I will never know why the storm hit us, and why we had survived. But what I did know was the lesson it had taught me. Never again would I take any day for granted. If I didn’t feel like I was happy to leave my life at any moment, content with the choices I had made up to that point should death come looking for me again one day …then I didn’t want to make th
ose choices. I only wanted those things I knew could withstand any accident, any calamity, any swift change in course.

  I was older now, a little slower, a little more cautious. My heart had healed, even though the scarred parts were still gnarled and angry looking. I was one foot down, sure, and worse for it. But I had another foot. And hands. And a heart.

  And best of all, I was alive.

  - THE END -

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  Bad Boys After Dark - The Complete Boxed Set

  SEAL’d TRUST

  I could say that I didn't trust men, but that's not entirely true...

  MAX:

  The last mission was over.

  I was never bringing back the men I'd lost over there,

  and if I had a hope in hell of redeeming myself after that horrible disaster,

  it would be here, in the town I'd chosen to set up my brand spanking new civilian life.

  Or at least, that was the plan...

  I knew I had promises to keep and plans to follow,

  but then, life plopped a mission in my lap that all

  my years of training couldn't have prepared me for.

  ... An overdressed, heavily made up, five-foot package of pure pain in the ass.

  KATE:

  I could say that I didn't trust men, but that's not entirely true.

  I didn't trust myself not to get involved with exactly the wrong kind of men.

  I moved to this town to get away from all that, and the last thing I needed

  right now was an ex-Navy SEAL jock like Max, getting in the way of my new life.

  Tall, muscly, and with a jumbo sized ego?

  No thank you.

  I made a promise to myself that I'd do better than that,

  and I didn't care how damn attractive or mysterious he was.

  I needed to get back on my feet, find a new job and lick my wounds.

  Then why was he all I could think about?

  And why did he have to move in right next door?

  ... What a pain in the ass.

  Read it today!

  Steamy Short Stories

  Break - A Bad Boy Romance

  Chapter One

  The woman in front of me was being fucked to within an inch of her life. Her entire face was flushed red, the color extending far down onto her chest and to her two swollen nipples. She was writhing like something possessed, as though she was about to combust into flames at any second.

  “She won’t come until I tell her she can,” said her tormentor to me. He flicked a sweat-damp fringe from his face and pummelled into her with more urgency.

  “What do you think – should we let her come?” he said through strained breath, flashing deep, laughing brown eyes in my direction.

  My mind raced.

  A year ago, I had only seen this man in pixelated images. He had been nothing more than ink on a newspaper for me, and now… now he was sweaty and deep in a yelping woman who seemed to be melting before our very eyes.

  Maybe I should back up a little. Everything happened so fast that it seemed like one day my life consisted of nothing but the endless cycle of work, sleep, eat …and then he appeared, like a dark hurricane, and turned everything on its head.

  It started like this: I had gone into work early that Tuesday to beat back my growing inbox and try to get a head start on the madness that the rest of the week would surely entail. I was in that sweet spot where I had successfully started at Cache magazine on the right foot, but after six months there, I didn’t need to be so ‘”yes ma’am, no ma’am” as I had been in the first few weeks. I was beginning to relax into my new role a little.

  I was young, sure, but sometimes having a lot to prove and nothing to lose is exactly the state of mind you need to write well.

  “Katie, come in here a sec, would you?”

  It was my boss Penelope Welsh, a severe pedant of a woman and dying supernova in the publishing world. She had used that notorious icy voice that could either mean I was about to be praised to heaven or threatened with my life. For Penelope, life was a dreadful bore, and she lived only for those moments of either sublime journalistic joy that made life worth living …or else eviscerating the newbie guts of baby writers like myself.

  It being only Tuesday, I hoped it was the former.

  “Your Tom Hood piece …walk me through this. What where you doing here exactly?”

  Her artsy metal earrings swung on either side of her head. She gestured to her computer screen like an unknown bug had landed there. This looked bad. As far as I could tell, Penelope asked people to “walk her through” things only so she could eviscerate them all the better. Shit.

  “Uh, yes, Tom Hood. I wanted to suggest that those nude photo leaks are kind of a new avenue for self promotion for him, that celebrities are looking for ways to manage their image by curating this completely fake online presence, except tha--”

  She raised a single bony finger to shut me up.

  “He didn’t like it,” she said, revealing a new cryptic streak that was unfamiliar to me.

  “Who didn’t?”

  “Tom Hood didn’t,” she said, relishing how ridiculous this clearly sounded to me. Her earrings had stopped swinging. I opened my mouth to speak, but she raised the bony finger higher.

  “He called me, you know. For some stupid reason. He says you’ve been unflattering and he wants an apology.” She turned her face back to the screen with a quizzical look. “As far as I’m concerned you did the asshole a favor with this piece, but what do I know? He doesn’t seem like he wants to cause any trouble. So, will you do it?”

  “Do what?”

  “Oh, right. Will you meet with him? He wants an apology. And he says he wants to do a more formal interview and a larger piece on this nude photo scandal crap. I’m going to have to bump Mira’s piece this month and that’s going to burn her ass, but he wanted you specifically, and I’m not going to turn that down, so I said you would. You OK with that? We kind of need it this quarter.”

  It was barely 5 minutes past 7 and I had already been assigned the biggest story of my short and desperate career. It was a lot to take in.

  All at once, Tom Hood was real.

  I had written a mere line or two of snark about him and now he had appeared right in the middle of my boring Tuesday morning, like a demon summoned with some kind of spell.

  I was thrilled. I played it cool.

  “Sure,” I said, trying to sound casual about it.

  “Good. Just see what he wants. I don’t mind where you want to take it, honestly, but just keep Eddy in the loop, too, you’ll need some photos.”

  She handed me a Post-It note with a time and place scratched on it in tight, impatient handwriting.

  “Tomorrow?!” I said, horrified.

  “Yeah? You can’t do it? I can get Mira to try -”

  “No, I’ll do it,” I blurted.

  I turned quickly to leave her office before anything else happened, but as I was about to close the door she quipped, “Well, have you seen them?”

  “What?”

  “The nudes.”

  Ah, the nudes. Tom Hood had had his phone “hacked” and all his precious dick pics were now “leaked” all over the world, and it was shocking, simply shocking to him. Not only did this idiot have the gall to try this stunt, he actually believed people would fall for it. The photos were pure trash of course �
�� grainy candid shots of him in various stages of undress, one with him completely naked, a pair of bikini-clad models in the background, him laughing with an obscenely large dick just hanging there…

  “No, of course I haven’t seen them, ew,” I said, crinkling my face up.

  “You should. Guy’s hung,” she replied and returned to her work, smirking.

  Okay then.

  I went to my desk, the emails I was dead set on just a second ago suddenly seeming utterly unimportant now. The butterflies in my stomach had not abated. I chewed nervously on the end of a long-suffering pencil and typed into Google, “Tom Hood nude pictures”, looking once over my shoulder.

  Chapter Two

  By the time I got home that evening, it was already somehow eight o’clock and was drizzling slightly. I was bone-tired, a little scratchy, and in no mood to deal with what I found there.

  “Tigger’s got his diarrhea again!” he said, the very first second I walked in the door.

  My head throbbed.

  Tigger was nowhere to be found, but the vague odor of cat shit lingering in the air let me know immediately what had happened. My boyfriend stood lamely in front of me.

  “Jeremy! Really? I told you not to feed him scraps from the kitchen, it messes him up,” I said, flinging my bag into the corner. My eyes caught the sight of a sickly brown puddle peeking out from behind the kitchen corner.