Hot Alpha SEALs: Military Romance Megaset

by Sharon Hamilton

  That was stupid, Talia! I immediately tense and hope he doesn’t make the connection.

  He palms my ass once more, his expression serious. “Use it if you need it. Got it?”

  Need it for what? I’m so relieved he doesn’t make the connection, I start to nod, then gasp in outrage when he moves with lightning speed, landing a resounding smack against my butt cheek.

  “What the hell! My thin dress and underwear did nothing to soften the sting. I try to jerk free, but he’s immovable.

  “That’s for ditching me earlier,” he grates, then says in a quieter tone, “Say your safe word, Scarlett, and I’ll end this now.”

  “Let go!” I grit out, shocked that my bolting bothered him, but also by my own response to the hot fire on my ass zinging its way through me. When his hand traces the curve of my ass, his fingers sliding under my panties, I freeze. He strokes away the pain, kneading my flesh tenderly. Time seems to stand still, my heart thrumming at the sensation of his thumb sliding the edge of my panties back, exposing my cheek fully. I’m so turned on, yet I can’t decide whether to punch him or kiss him.

  Another smack. “That’s for lying to me.”

  My anger quickly ignites once more. This time I hammer my fist on his muscular arm, trying to break free, but he’s just too strong. “I haven’t lied to you,” I hiss. I don’t know you. I don’t trust you. I don’t trust anyone. I wish I did. I wish things were different. I wish my past was different.

  He grabs my ass like he owns it, massaging my skin with enticing, possessive strokes. When he slides his hand lower to the back of my thigh and along the curve of my ass, teasing the edge of my panties, his fingers so close, but not touching me, I fight back the moan rising in my throat. As the sting fades, his sexy voice sends shivers down my spine. “You can call this quits whenever you want. Just say the word.”

  Safe word. I get it now. His comment is so seductively intriguing, it’s hard to know if he’s seducing me, challenging me, or prepping me for more punishment of some other transgression. Sure I can say, “Rainbow” to make him stop, but there’s a part of me that wants to know what this is between us. What else have I done to elicit such heated intensity from him? Instead of playing by his rules, I decide to give his frustration back to him in my own way. Grabbing a fistful of his hair, I yank hard. “Screw you!”

  Exhaling a harsh grunt, he digs his fingers into my rear, his piercing gaze narrowing to a sharp edge. I squeeze my eyes shut and tighten my butt muscles, preparing as he bends close to speak in a steely tone against my cheek. “And this is for waiting until fucking now to walk into my life.”

  I gasp in shock when his mouth captures mine in a bone-melting kiss. The second he jerks me impossibly close, molding me to him like a second skin, my adrenaline spikes, setting me on fire.

  His sensual spanking must have revved me up. Or maybe it’s just everything about Sebastian, from his seductive words, to his intense stare, to his thrilling, territorial hold on my body. What did he mean by that last comment? And why does he sound furious and regretful at the same time? I shake off my jumbled thoughts and clasp his neck, tugging him as close as I can. I’ve had eight years of build-up thinking about this glorious man, and I’m not letting him go yet.

  Sebastian groans against my mouth, then slides his tongue aggressively against mine, provoking a response. Its electrifying effect zings all the way to the bottoms of my feet. Just as I twine my tongue with his, he starts to delve deeper, but then he pulls back, his face tense with frustration. “Give me something. Anything.”

  The plea in his voice speaks to that same desperate feeling I’ve carried around with me since I was a little girl. Crossing paths with him when I was thirteen shined a tiny ray of hope in a life that was crashing down around me. In my heart and mind, he’s been “the one” for eight years, a fantasy I never expected to happen. I’d given him many names in my past imaginings, but Sebastian makes my insides burn.

  I love it. The name fits him so well.

  And now that my life is in an upward trajectory, I want the one man—whose brief appearance in my life meant more than any other—to be the person who helps me hold onto the belief he’d started all those years ago—that I was worth the effort. Until I met him that day, I’d always felt like no one cared. My aunt was the only one who loved me, because she had to. No one else had. Not my mother, not my father, not Walt, not Hayes. No one.

  “Tell me your name,” he rasps against my skin, trailing warm lips down my neck.

  I know tonight is all we’ll have, so I’m going to make the most of it before he disappears from my life again. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I press against him and shake my head. “No names tonight. Remember.”

  He fists his hand in my hair, tugging slightly so I have to meet his gaze. “You know mine.”

  “I didn’t ask you.”

  He scowls, hating that answer.

  Pressing my lips to his neck, I trail them up his jaw. “I’ll give you something better.”

  He grunts and captures my chin with his thumb. “I want your name.”

  The sconce lights flicker, then die out completely, shrouding us in darkness. Thunder booms, shaking the room.

  I lick my lips and offer him a choice. “You can either have my name or me.”

  With his back to the window, his face is in the shadows. Mine flashes in and out with the lightning, but I feel his fingers flexing on my hip and hear his sharp intake of breath. He wasn’t expecting that.

  Heart pounding, I make it perfectly clear what I’m offering. “My name or my body. You choose.” Once it’s out there, I hold my breath. I don’t know if he’ll take it or toss me aside, he’s so freaking domineering and hard to read.

  Tilting my chin higher, he feathers his fingers down my throat, then tugs the bow, unraveling the cape from around my neck.

  When it whooshes to the floor at my feet, I exhale slowly, relieved that he’s chosen not to ask.

  Chapter Six

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  My skin prickles as he traces his fingers across the curve of my breast above the corset, then dips a finger between my cleavage, a territorial smile tilting his lips. “In giving yourself to me, you’ve agreed to let me do anything I want to you. I’m not tender, Scarlett. I’m demanding. I like control. I’m all about the physical…and the release.”

  “So you’re saying you don’t make love.”

  “I fuck…” he answers in a matter-of-fact tone, then slowly traces a finger along my jaw, “But always with pleasure as the ultimate payoff. In exchange, I promise you’ll come until you beg me to stop, and even then I just might not.”

  Lightning flashes along the side of his face, reflecting a quick, wicked smile.

  While he promises a rough romp, he gently slides his thumbs across my breasts, then slowly begins to unhook each of the corset’s hooks from its matching eyelet.

  “And my safe word?” I ask breathlessly.

  He pauses, glancing up from the hooks. “Use it if you must.” Holding my gaze, he takes his time freeing the last few hooks. “But you won’t.”

  Is that a challenge or a promise? My belly flutters in excitement, while my mind tries to reconcile his aggressive sexual statements with his tender attentiveness. It’s such an arousing contrast, my insides feel like they might combust. The second my corset falls to the floor, a flood of arousal swells my freed breasts, slamming straight to my nipples. I hold back the whimper at the near painful pressure, not wanting him to know just how much he affects me. Even the cotton dress is chaffing the hard pink tips; they’re that sensitive.

  I gasp when he steps right up to me, his voice a sensual rumble vibrating against my chest. “I’ll have your name by the end of the night,” he says, confident, assured. “I just wanted you to offer it willingly.”

  Does that mean he thinks I’ll give him my name unwillingly? Good luck, bud. I don’t get a chance to wonder as he slides his hands up my waist to capture my nipples between his thumbs and forefi
ngers. The dress does little to dull the effect as he pinches with enough force to make me cry out in a haze of pleasure/pain. When he doesn’t release me right away, but continues to apply steady, frustrating pressure, I began to throb deep in my core. It’s an achy, painful, I’ll-need-a-release-soon kind of throbbing. I grip his hard biceps and begin to pant, my legs trembling.

  When I try to press my legs together to stop the torturous pulsing, he quickly slides his knee between mine, breaking my thighs apart. The barest tease of his hard thigh muscle brushes against my aching center as he dips his head to whisper huskily in my ear. “There are so many other ways to punish.”

  The second I move close to his thigh, hoping to apply pressure where I need it most, he pulls his leg out of my reach. I bite the inside of my cheek and quickly realize I’m in way over my head.

  “So beautifully fucking responsive,” he murmurs, rolling his thumbs across my nipples. “Your name,” he commands.

  I shake my head, then gasp hard when he drags his thumbs down the front of my nipples. Even through the material, unimaginable pleasure sweeps through me.

  “You’re going to come while standing. I won’t touch you anywhere but here. You can’t move. Don’t touch anything but my arms. Got it?”

  “But I don’t think I can—” I exhale raggedly as pleasure shifts to pain, radiating throughout my chest. He’d only applied the slightest pressure at a different angle, but the effect is enough to cut me off.

  “Don’t think. Just take direction.”

  I frown; I don’t like being told what to do, but his voice softens to a silky purr. “The payoff will be worth it.”

  When I slowly nod, he smiles, and I finally see the dimple on his cheek for the first time. It’s barely there, but still perceptible. What changed in his life since I met him that night? I don’t think the man before me has looked for rainbows in a long time. He’s too focused, too intense, too…dark. Black as sin, he’d said. I want to ask him so much, but I can’t, not without revealing myself. Damn him for being this sexy and seductively intriguing.

  He moves his thumbs once more, doing something new that makes my legs feel boneless and my eyes shutter to half-mast. This time I can’t hold back my moan. I’m shocked to feel my inner muscles flexing, coiling, ready for release. I take a quick breath through my nose.

  “Not yet.” He shakes his head.

  My eyes widen. “Why not?”

  Desire flashes in his eyes, swift and heated. “I’m going to tell you what I’m going to do to you first, then when I let you, you can come.”

  When he lets me? Screw that. My mind instantly plans a revolt, while he bends close to my ear, his warm breath rushing across my skin, his voice beautifully rough. “Are you wet for me right now? It makes me harder just thinking about you dripping with want, soaking through your clothes.”

  When I don’t answer, he tweaks my nipples and a shudder overtakes me. I shake my head, too stubborn to tell him how much I want this. Two can play at this game, Mr. Black.

  He nips my earlobe. “I can’t wait to taste you. My mouth is watering just thinking about rolling you across my tongue, savoring your flavor…lapping you up. Every last drop.”

  My stomach clenches and moisture gathers, intensifying the steady throb between my legs. I’m so freaking turned on, I bow my head and inhale steady, even breaths trying to hold out longer than him.

  “Tell me, damn it!” he demands, his thumbnails brushing across the very tips of my nipples.

  I whimper, then bite out angrily, “Yes, I’m sopping. Are you happy?”

  “Miss Scarlett, I’m raging,” he admits, his voice gruffer than it was a second ago.

  His honest admission makes me smile, so I turn the tables on him, lifting my head to whisper in his ear, “I’m tighter than you’ve ever had. That I can promise you.”

  “Fuck me,” he utters, his head snapping up, eyes blazing with lust. Rolling my nipples between his fingers, he tugs just enough. “I’m going to pound into your sweet body over and over, filling you full of what you want most. Me. Come now.”

  The sexy words are barely out of his mouth before I’m screaming through the orgasm roaring through me. Pulses of hot and cold tremors slide up and down my body, taking away my ability to stand through the all-consuming experience.

  He catches me when I crumple, lifting me into his arms. Cradling me to his chest, he presses a kiss to my forehead, then carries me out of the library and down the hall in determined strides. His hold on me is fiercely tight as we enter another room, this one darker than the library, quieter.

  A bedroom.

  My body is still clenching and thrumming from the aftereffects of my climax as he lays me on the bed. He tugs my first boot off, then the second. His movements are swift, purposeful, like nothing will stop the gale force about to rush over me.

  Thunder booms outside, punctuating his actions, and I welcome every bit of his primitive fury. Bending forward, he surprises me when he slowly runs the tips of his fingers high along my leg before he begins to slide my thigh-high hose off. With each section of skin he exposes, he pauses to press a kiss, first, to my inner thigh, then the inside of my knee, and finally along the sensitive side of my ankle.

  Moving to my other leg, his fingers brush much higher on my thigh, causing my breathing to stall. As he makes his way down my leg, he applies light kisses in slightly different areas before removing the second hose completely. My body’s clenching in renewed arousal by the time he’s done.

  Straightening, he takes off his bow and quiver, then his belt and shirt. His breathing saws in and out as he stares down at me for a beat before removing his mask. I’m glad to know I’m not the only one affected by his attentive removal of my hose.

  The outline of his broad shoulders and hard, fit body make me want to explore every dip and hollow with my tongue. I’m sad that it’s too dark to see more than bits of light play on his face from trees moving in the wind outside, but that means he can’t really see mine either.

  I reach up and remove my mask. I want to kiss him without it in the way. I don’t want anything between us. We’ll just hide in the shadows instead.

  “Your name,” he says, his tone demanding compliance.

  I pull my dress over my head, tossing it to him.

  My answer.

  He crushes the material in a tight fist, then drops it to the floor. Reaching for my ankles, he encircles them, fingers flexing on my skin. Distant lightning flashes, briefly highlighting the top half of his face. The room goes dark again, and all I can picture is the near feral look in his amazing eyes as he tugs me toward him with a powerful jerk, his tone gravelly and full of want. “Then I’ll just call you Mine.”

  When he runs his hands up the inside of my thighs, pressing them to the bed with a quiet order, “Keep them here,” I comply, eager anticipation curling in my belly. I’m exposed, but he’s already seen the ugliest side of me. When I was raw and at my weakest. He just doesn’t know it.

  He slowly runs his nose up my wet panties, groaning low in his throat. I swallow as he inhales, then lets out a dark growl of pleasure. “Your scent is driving me insane.”

  He doesn’t touch me where I want him to though. Instead he runs his tongue along the edge of my underwear, the erotic sensation of his warmth so close but not hitting where I need him to puts me just shy of wanting to scream.

  I start to touch his dark hair, to direct him where I want him to go, but he jerks his head up and shakes it. “Keep your hands on the bed if you want me to make you come.”

  Gritting my teeth, I clutch the soft bedcovers underneath me, regretting that I can’t dig my fingers into the thick, silky mass. Is it as soft as it looks? What does it smell like?

  He grunts his approval, then presses his thumbs on either side of my entrance, opening my lips wider. I moan as he tugs my underwear slightly, pulling the cloth inside me. The brief brush against my clit makes me throb.

  Then he runs his tongue along the sensitiv
e skin he’s exposed, so close but still not touching me. “You’re not hitting the right spot,” I say, my body clenching, needing friction.

  He chuckles and slides his hands under my butt. “Is this what you want?” The feel of his tongue flattened along my underwear, lapping all the way up, makes my hips buck.

  “You’re so sweet,” he murmurs, pressing his nose inside me and inhaling through my wet panties like he can’t get enough.

  His act is so primal and arousing, my insides flex, desire pulsating. “Then taste me, damn it!” I demand, sounding frantic…desperate for him.

  He slides his tongue past the underwear, flicking it briefly inside me. I roll my hips and gasp.

  “Say you’re mine,” he rumbles.

  He doesn’t have to ask me twice. I’m already his. “I’m yours.”

  Letting out a deep sound of masculine satisfaction, he pulls back slightly then rips my underwear right off my body. I don’t care. My hips are moving on their own at this point.

  When he puts my underwear in his mouth and sucks and groans, while his eyes bore into me, I want to rip that damned material from his lips. Jealous, I’m nearly delirious with the need to feel his mouth on me. Belatedly I realize I’m blubbering for him to taste me, damn it. What is he doing to me? I can’t even think straight.

  “I’m going to,” he promises. Dropping my panties on the floor, he bends down and runs his warm tongue across my slit and all the way up.

  The second he latches onto my clit, I scream out in pleasure, pressing myself wantonly against his hot mouth. I want everything he can give and more.

  He growls low in his throat and grips my ass, delving his tongue deep inside. When I try to wrap my legs around his neck, to pull him closer, he stops and lifts his head. “Down on the bed.”

  “But—”

  A dark eyebrow arches. “Did you give yourself to me?”

  When I swallow reflexively, then nod, a darkly seductive smile tilts his lips. “Then take what I give and trust me.”

  I do trust him, so I sigh and let my legs fall back to the bed in complete surrender.