My Best Friend's Navy SEAL Dad: A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance

by Flora Ferrari

  I wrap my arms around his shoulders and lay my head against his chest, biting my lip so I don’t blurt the sentence that tries to erupt out of my mouth.

  Oh, Trent, I imagine myself saying. It feels like our wedding night, like when you’ll carry me across the threshold.

  But just like the L-word is a no-no, so are comments like that. Maybe he’d react warmly and maybe he’d feel the same…

  Or maybe he’d drop me and laugh.

  I force the sentiment down, focusing on this moment instead, and this moment alone.

  I laugh in delight when he drops me onto the bed. The lamps are lit, sending a warm yellow glow across the room, and the heater is on, softly infusing the room with a warmth that makes me want to strip all my clothes off.

  Or perhaps that has more to do with the sight of Trent standing over the bed, his face tight as he stares at me, his eyes moving over my legs and then up to my face.

  “I almost want you to keep that dress on,” he growls, leaning down and sliding his hand up my thigh. “But fucking hell. I know how incredible you look naked.”

  He grabs the hem of the dress and pulls it up, up over my body, and then over my head. I lift my arms to help him.

  He tosses the dress to the floor and then leaps on me, the mattress whining under his massive frame.

  His lips are on mine and his chest presses against my breasts, the rock hardness of his muscular body making me feel as though I’m trapped, and yet I want to be trapped… beneath him, the word trapped doesn’t even make sense.

  I dig my fingernails into his broad-muscled back, gripping onto his hardness, his unwavering solidity.

  He growls through the kiss, the tips of our tongues clashing together.

  I can barely focus on the kiss when he slides his hand up my thigh and clamps down on my sex, grinding the heel of his hand against my lips and my hole and my clit through my underwear. I grind and buck against him, twitching, biting down as my belly surges with warmth.

  He growls when I bite onto his lip, but he doesn’t stop.

  He pushes my underwear aside and slips his finger slickly inside of me.

  “Fuck,” he snarls, leaning back and gazing down at me like I’m putting on a personal show just for him. “Are you going to be a good virgin and come for me? Get your pussy nice and wet for my dick.

  “Y-y-yes,” I cry, my words coming with great difficulty.

  He works his hand with even more speed, pumping his arm, grinding my clit, and fingering my hole until I can feel all the pressure inside of me gathering like fiery a ball of release, dragging toward my middle.

  I buck against his hand, my pussy taking control of my movements.

  Beneath the haze of euphoria a voice sings, the voice of the shy virgin I still am, even after all our closeness.

  Enjoy this because it’s all you’ll be able to do. Sex will be too much.

  I push the voice down, down, focusing instead on the buzzing of my clit. It pulses and my lips throb and then my screams turn choked like I’m dying, but it makes no sense because this is the most alive I’ve ever felt.

  I try to cry out but the pleasure is too overwhelming, a whole army of ecstasy shivering through me.

  “Fuck, your squirting,” he snarls. “You’re such a good girl, Tess. Keep squirting for me.”

  I dig my fingernails into his shoulders, not caring if I draw blood.

  And neither does he.

  We’re completely lost to the moment, sinking into the unleashing of my pleasure.

  I gasp when the orgasm thunders through my belly, spreading light-tipped hands that claw onto every nerve, every inch of me.

  He rears up like a bear and stares down, his face hard, his eyes harder.

  “Fucking hell,” he growls once the orgasm has passed. “I need to feel how wet with cream your hole is. You better be ready to take this dick, baby. Because I can’t fucking stop now.”

  He grabs my bra and yanks at it, the strap cutting into my back for a split second before it snaps and he tosses it onto the floor. He does the same to my panties, tearing them away, panting in his need to be inside of me.

  My hole tingles, my womb sending more wetness to my entrance, getting ready to take – or try to take – his entire throbbing length.

  “And you,” I moan, pawing at his clothes. “I want to see you.”

  He smirks and stands.

  “Touch yourself,” he growls as he grabs at his clothes frantically, tearing his shirt so his buttons go pop-pop-pop as the fabric shreds. “Keep that slit nice and wet for me.”

  “Like this?” I cry, pressing my middle finger against my clit, shivering as I gaze up at him.

  He pauses in his undressing, standing shirtless with his pants hanging around his hips. His stomach is a rock solid mass of muscle, his abs a series of deep-cut lines in his marble flesh, his manhood suggested in the shape of his groin muscles leading to his underwear.

  “Yes,” he snarls, feral. “Exactly like that, you obedient little virgin.”

  He kicks off his shoes and pulls his pants and his boxers down, stomping nakedly out of them, his cock springing up, all nine-plus inches of it. I gaze at it with even more awe than the last time, at the massive unbelievable size of it, because I know I’m going to take it this time.

  I’m going to take all of it.

  I hope.

  He climbs onto the bed again.

  I open my legs, hoping I’m doing it right, praying I’m not making a fool of myself.

  “What should I do?” I whimper. “Where should I put my hands?”

  “Push those big gorgeous tits together for me,” he growls, propping himself up with one arm as he reaches down with his other hand and grabs his manhood.

  “Like this?” I murmur, burying my hands in my breasts and pushing them close.

  He groans out a yes as he guides his engorged helm to my hole.

  I whimper as I feel him skirting around my hole, painting my already-soaked entrance with his precome, his eyes fixated on my hands toying with my breasts.

  I gasp when he pushes forward and pries me open, my hole fluttering as he inches deeper and deeper.

  “You’re so big,” I moan, even as my womb sends urgent signals to my hole to let him in.

  We need his massive dick, she sings. We need all the seed stowed inside of him. We need to feel how huge and perfect he is.

  “You’re so tight and perfect,” he growls. “I knew you would be.”

  “Hmmm,” I moan, as he pushes somehow deeper, the massive helm of his cock grinding right up inside of me, touching places I never knew existed before this moment.

  He pauses inside of me and we lock eyes.

  I can’t play with my breasts anymore.

  All I can do is grip onto his massive shoulder muscles, digging my fingernails into his skin, so hard I’m surprised they haven’t broken yet.

  He’s buried all the way inside of me now.

  My hole screams and quivers.

  I can’t do it.

  Heck, I knew I wouldn’t be able to.

  I knew I’d disappoint him.

  Please, no, don’t let it end like…

  He smirks. He can feel it.

  My hole quivers and widens, a surge of heat moving through my lower half, tingles dancing up and down my inner thighs.

  The feeling is like nothing I’ve ever experienced, like an orgasm happening in miniature, like starlight cascading through my body.

  He slides out of me slickly, growling out a shivering breath, making the movement last a long time so both of us are forced to feel every tiny shift in the pleasurable union.

  He pulls out until his helm is held like a weapon at my entrance.

  “Again,” I whimper, my body screaming out for that filled-up feeling. “Oh, God, don’t stop.”

  He leans down and brushes his lips against mine.

  “Don’t tell me that,” he growls. “I’ll pound your perfect hole until you can’t take it anymore. You need me to
take it slow.”

  “At first,” I gasp. “Just fuck me, Trent. Please.”

  He drives up inside of me again, causing the whole bed to shake.

  This time, I move to meet him, twitching my hips, and I don’t have to wonder if I’m doing it right.

  His husky breathing tells me I’m doing exactly what he needs.

  We rock into a rhythm, finding the perfect meeting place for our sexes, both of us pulsing in time with each other, my moaning and his growling groans rising together in the air.

  He reaches up and grabs my breasts in a greedy hand, his other clutched into a fist on the bed, holding himself up as our bodies grind slickly together. My nipples tingle and burn against his palm, singing in joy at the way he handles me.

  He grabs me possessively, like he owns me, using the same hand he’s wielded guns and thrown grenades with.

  “Fuck, you’re tight,” he growls. “I can feel how badly your body wants it. How badly...You want... To give me... A family.”

  With each sharp sentence, he pounds into me, getting harder, rougher, deeper.

  I bounce on the end of his massive cock, my hole getting tighter around him in turn, as though it’s working its way to another soul-searing orgasm.

  The mattress whines beneath us as we buck and writhe together, as we rock in unison, both of us utterly lost to this moment and this moment alone.

  Nothing exists except for us.

  “I need to see your ass,” he grunts, sliding out of me. “Bend over and stick that perfect ass out. Now, Tess. Now.”

  “Okay, okay,” I gasp, rolling onto my belly and then climbing onto all fours.

  I arch my hips and stick my ass out, and somehow I don’t stop to wonder if I’m doing it right or if I’m making a fool of myself. Somewhere during our crazy frantic closeness, I’ve stopped caring if look silly.

  My pussy burns too hotly for him, my hole tingling with the suggestion of a firework-like release.

  “You are so fucking perfect,” he growls, smoothing his hands over my ass cheeks as he brings his cock to my hole. “Sit back on my dick, Tess. Show me how much you can take.”

  I grip the sheets in tight handfuls and sink back against him. My hole clenches and wet friction floods me as his cock drives a passage inside of me, somehow feeling even bigger from this angle.

  I sit back and back and back, eager to take as much of him as I can.

  There is no pain, no discomfort, not anymore.

  It’s like he said.

  Our bodies want this, need this and nothing is going to stop us.

  “You want it all,” he snarls.

  “Yes,” I moan, even though it wasn’t a question.

  He needs to know that I’m ready, that I’m not scared of this anymore.

  “Take me how you want,” I say. “Just do it, Trent.”

  “Good fucking girl,” he snarls.

  He grabs my hips and pommels inside of me, smashing his cock deep inside of me so that his abs crash against my ass cheeks, bouncing against his irrepressible body.

  I shift my hips with his dominating movements, grabbing the sheets and using them to push back against him, sliding back and forth over and over again.

  I try to keep time with his possessive thrusts, but he moves so fast, his growls filling the air, choked and on the verge of a carnal roar.

  I bounce and bounce and then I can’t take it anymore.

  My core lets go with all the gathered-up energy inside of me, an explosion of pleasure that cascades through me, that touches every part of me.

  “That’s it,” he snarls. “Cream on my dick. Keep. Fucking. Creaming.”

  I gasp and cry and shiver, pinned on the end of him.

  There’s nothing I can do except ride the pleasure he’s fucking into me, my hole pulsing in time with my frenetic heartbeat, every inch of me set ablaze with the glory of this moment.

  My womb sends deep-reaching chords of pleasure through me, the orgasm wet and steamy and hotter than anything I ever dreamed of.

  I collapse onto the bed with a cry when his thrusts get faster.

  He pounds me into the mattress and all I can do is quiver against him, prey to his predator’s possessive thrusts, fucking me like it’s the end of the world and this is how he wants to go out, with the mother of all bangs.

  Just when I think the orgasm has passed, he growls and it triggers something inside of me.

  My insides come awake for a second time and more intimate wetness erupts inside of me, sliding down his length.

  “My seed,” he gasps. “I can feel it. Fuck. Close, so damn… close.”

  I sing out a moan, urging him on. I want to tell him to come inside of me, to tell him how desperate I am for us to have a family together, but I can’t find the words, any words.

  All I can do is tell him with my body, pushing back with my hips, slipping down his length, and feeling my ass crash against his abs.

  He falls atop me, his body crushing me against the bed, holding himself up just enough so he doesn’t crush me completely. His face is near my cheek as he pants out his animal breaths, heat moving over my skin, teasing, captivating.

  I turn my face and try to kiss him, but we’re both vibrating too intensely to find each other’s lips.

  He roars and then his breathing turns hollow, as though he can’t find the energy to let out the beastly noises anymore.

  My womb sings and celebrates as he empties his seed inside of me, biting softly down on my shoulder at the final moment, growling through the closeness.

  “Fuck,” he growls, rolling aside.

  I roll with him, traitorous thoughts entering my mind now that we’re no longer fused together. High school voices whisper that he’s going to lose interest now that he’s got what he wanted, that he’s going to push me away or laugh or do some other evil cruel thing.

  But of course, he doesn’t.

  He moves his hand through my hair and then leans down, kissing me softly on the forehead.

  “I just know it,” he whispers.

  “Know what?” I ask softly.

  “What else?” He smirks down at me. “I’ve put my baby in your belly. This is it, Snapshot. This is the first day of the rest of our lives together. It all starts here, with the child already flowering in your womb.”

  “I hope so,” I whisper, smoothing my hand over my belly, praying that he’s right…

  And yet there’s another feeling there too, something that makes me want to scream until it goes away and stops torturing me.

  What if I’m pregnant and Angela disapproves?

  What the heck do we do then?

  “Trent,” I say.

  “Hmm?” he replies, sounding more content than I’ve ever heard him, like we’re floating on the bed together, like the bed is a raft rocking on a calm ocean and we don’t have to worry about the rest of the world.

  “I think I want to tell my mom about us,” I say. “She deserves to know.”

  “I agree,” he says. “I was going to suggest the same. When?”

  “Tomorrow morning before work?” I say. “That way if she freaks I have a good excuse to make a run for it.”

  I laugh and he chuckles, but I’m not entirely joking.

  There’s another reason to tell mom, a cruel reason I shouldn’t even allow into my mind.

  If mom disapproves, maybe we’ll stop this before we have to tell Angie.

  My womb laughs. My soul laughs. I almost laugh.

  I don’t believe that for a second.

  Trent and I are bound together for life now, no matter what anyone says.

  I love you, I want to scream as I rest my cheek against his unyielding chest and feel his heartbeat pound against my cheek. I love you so much. I’ll never stop loving you.

  I don’t stop to question how impossible this should feel, considering this only started today.

  Today.

  It should feel impossible and silly, but it doesn’t.

  It feels like fate.<
br />
  It feels like everything I’ve been waiting my whole life for.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Trent

  The next morning, I pull up outside Tessa’s house with a cheesy-as-fuck smirk on my face. We only parted ways a few hours ago – we had sex at my place after the cabin date – and yet I’ve burned and ached for her every moment since.

  I know I should probably be nervous, questioning if everything is going to blow up in our faces when we tell her mother. I know Caitlin as much as I know anybody else in Youngstone, which isn’t well considering I’ve spent most of my life with the SEALs, handling my work.

  Still, she deserves to know what’s going on with me and her daughter.

  I just hope she takes it well.

  I walk across the lawn and up the stairs, fighting off the anger that pricks me at the sight of the rundown house. When Tess and I go public, I’m going to renovate this whole place. My woman’s mother deserves a nice place to live in as much as my woman does.

  I take a breath before I knock on the door, steadying myself.

  It’s not nerves that cause tremors to move through me.

  It’s the knowledge that I have to control myself.

  Pouncing on Tess in front of her mother would hardly make the best impression.

  The door opens before I get a chance to knock and my breath stops short, my hands curl into fists so I don’t instinctively reach out and grab onto her hips.

  She’s wearing her waitress’s uniform, just like when she captivated me, but this time I know what she looks like underneath all that fabric.

  I know the gorgeous shade her ass turns when I grab it with carnal ownership.

  I know how perky her nipples get when I kiss her in just the right way.

  “Hey,” she says, looking up at me with those naive eyes…

  Naive, yes, but there’s a glimmer of something else behind the naivety now, something suggesting that what happened last night has changed her. A new confidence is growing inside of her, I can tell, shimmering across her expression.

  “Thanks for coming.”

  I chuckle quietly. “You say that like we’re casual acquaintances. You don’t have to thank me, Snapshot.”

  She giggles, nodding endearingly, and then steps aside and waves me in.

  I walk into the small hallway, fighting the urge to comment on how threadbare the carpet is.