SEALs of Summer: Military Romance Superbundle - Navy SEAL Style

by Sharon Hamilton

  The last time she’d seen him naked her mind had been filled with noise. All of it loud and insistent. This time, she looked her fill of him, noting the strength in his tall, muscled frame, the breadth of his chest, the rigid definition of the muscles of his abdomen. More than his beautiful body, his expression drew her with its tight jaw and solemn eyes.

  Susan had the funny thought this encounter was more of a first time than that frantic coupling they’d already shared. That this time, they were both laid bare. Both a little breathless. Maybe a little scared as well.

  Justin’s jaw tightened more, a muscle rippling along the edge, and he walked to the bed. There, he sat on the edge of the mattress then lifted his hand, beckoning her closer.

  Unable to resist, she approached, her steps not eager, but also not reluctant. She allowed him to draw her over his lap, her thighs spreading around his hips as she perched atop him.

  His hands slid lightly up and down her back, making her skin rise in goose bumps. Below, she felt his sex begin to pulse.

  Slowly, she raised her hands and framed his face between them. “Can you hear my heart beats?” she asked with a little breathy laugh.

  He shook his head. “Mine are too loud.”

  “Then I’m not alone.”

  Justin swallowed. “No, baby. You’re not.”

  The acknowledgement was enough. For now. Susan bent, pouring all the fluttery, fresh feelings awakening inside into her kiss.

  Chapter Five

  ‡

  Justin was in love. Not something he’d ever experienced or he’d have recognized it right off. And the emotion had likely happened the moment he’d found her in the airport. Something had drawn him from the beginning. A feeling of recognition, like they’d met in another life and had at last reconnected.

  A whimsical thought, and one that would have made him jeer if any other man had used the description. But here he was. Almost quivering, shaken to the core by the beauty of her kiss.

  A naturally intuitive man, Justin was able to read into another’s expression and predict their reactions. But with Susan that ability amplified. He’d known from the start she presented a brittle, cold facade to mask her own trepidation. Knew from the moment she’d thrust out those bills to tip him that she desperately wanted to erect barriers against her own attraction.

  She’d been disappointed before. In herself and in the men she’d dated. She didn’t trust easily. But she was beginning to trust him. And he felt as though he’d been given a gift. A treasure. And more than anything, he was determined not to let her down.

  Her kiss was nearly his undoing. So soft and sweet. So endearing. A gentle brush of her soft mouth, a tentative opening of her sweet lips.

  Although need tensed his body, he didn’t rush inside. He waited, slanting his head, inviting her to explore. She’d wanted that. A chance to learn what pleasured him and to find what pleased her.

  So he held still, resisting the need to fill his hands with her soft, luscious curves, while she rubbed his lips, circling, softening against him, her nipples brushing his chest, the turgid points an additional source of sweet torture.

  The moisture gathering at her folds was another. She was moist and hot, pressing against his cock, but he refused to move. This time, he wouldn’t be rushed. She deserved to be petted and adored. Every inch explored. He tightened his grip on the edge of the mattress.

  Her face, when she broke the kiss, was tinted a pale rose. Her mouth deep cherry. Her ice-colored eyes were dreamy, the pupils enlarged.

  “Sweetheart, do a guy a favor.”

  She smiled. “What do you want?”

  Everything. “How about we start with you in the center of the bed?”

  “I thought you were lazy, and I’m right here,” she said with a gentle grind.

  At the insistent brush of her soft skin against his cock, he growled, low in his throat. “Middle of the bed,” he said, his voice deepening. “Now.”

  Her lips parted and her eyes widened, but he could read the curious delight. So she liked being ordered. He filed that away.

  With a moue of disappointment, she slid off his lap then crawled onto the mattress, settling in the center with her head resting on a pillow.

  Justin stood, gazing down at her, aware of the jut of his rigid cock, and the fact she couldn’t take her gaze from it. He climbed onto the bed, coming to rest beside her, his head propped on his hand.

  Her gaze was pointed, and she reached out.

  Not this time. He caught her hand before it wrapped around his cock. “There’s no rush.”

  “Says the man with the massive hard-on,” she muttered.

  “Says the man who’s going to lick every inch of your pussy.”

  Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened. “Who says things like that?”

  Savoring the soft skin of her fingers, he gave her a steady stare, his face wiped clean of any amusement, although inside he was smiling as her face flushed.

  “Really?” Her jaw closed with a snap.

  “You keep it shaved. Isn’t that an invitation?”

  “I keep it shaved for hygienic reasons,” she said primly.

  “Or are you hiding the fact you aren’t a natural blonde.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “I am a natural blonde.”

  To keep from smiling at her affront, he tightened his lips. “Make some room,” he said, trailing a finger from her belly button to the top of her mound.

  Although frowning deeply now, she parted her legs. Just a couple of inches, but that’s all he needed. He traced a line between her folds, his nostrils flaring as he encountered dewy moisture. He trailed up and down between her slick folds, grinning inside as she eased open her thighs a little more.

  Her breaths were shorter now. Her nipples dimpling, the tips extending. He leaned over her chest and flicked the nearest one with his tongue while he continued to tease her sex.

  “This really will take all night,” she said with an exaggerated sigh.

  All part of his plan. He trailed upward, a fingertip grazing her clit.

  She drew a sharper breath.

  “So you think I’m well-endowed.”

  “I said you were very, very well-made.”

  “Same thing.” He’d never get tired of hearing that description.

  A breath huffed out. “Is not.”

  He pressed his lips together again. Teasing her was fun. Especially since she was having such a hard time containing her reactions to his “lazy” touches. When he slowly rimmed her entrance, her thighs quivered, and she slowly spread herself.

  He slipped a finger inside her, wriggling it, and then tucked it deeper, curving it to rub against the upper side of her channel, watching her face until he heard her telltale gasp. He withdrew, pretending he didn’t notice her little disappointed moan, but quickly thrust two fingers inside, found the spot and resumed rubbing. Just to make things more interesting, he thumbed her clit, rasping lazily over the tight nub as he continued his inner massage. He cleared his throat. “You think I’m sweet.”

  “Maya thinks you’re sweet. Lace thinks you’re lazy.”

  “And what do you think?” he asked, noting that she was getting wetter by the minute.

  “I think you’re mean.”

  “Really?”

  She gave him an even glare. “This isn’t what you promised.”

  “You want me to lick every inch of your pussy?”

  Her nose wrinkled. “You don’t have to say the words, you just have to do it.”

  Not wanting to appear rushed, he swirled his fingers then quickly withdrew them, the wet sound they made, loud between them. With a crooked smile, he painted her nipples with her own fluids, then glanced into her eyes.

  Shock and a building excitement resided in her rounded eyes.

  Justin rolled over her, coming to his knees, which he spread over her thighs. His cock was blatantly aroused, and pointing toward the ceiling. “I’m not sweet. And I’m not lazy. But maybe I am a litt
le mean.”

  “Never said I didn’t like that.”

  With a grunt, he bent over her, plumping up a breast, then capturing the tip with his lips. He sucked it hard, drawing on it, drinking in her flavor. Then he moved to the other breast and licked it clean. When he lifted his head, he gave her a dark glance before scooting downward.

  With his tongue, he traced her ribs, sank the tip into her navel and pushed against the soft button of flesh at its center.

  Letting out a sigh, Susan stretched her arms above her head and gripped the headboard.

  He smiled against her smooth skin as her abdomen began to quiver. Ready to end her misery, he moved down again, nudging apart her legs with his knees until there was room for his body. Holding his head just above her mound, he let her see his smile. “It’s a very hygienic pussy.”

  “I think I hate you.”

  “No, you don’t,” he said softly and met her gaze.

  Moisture welled in them, and she glanced away. “No, I don’t,” she whispered.

  His chest expanded with her admission, as close to a declaration of affection as he knew she was capable of giving. For now.

  He dipped down and began to lap gently at her folds.

  He was driving her crazy. Absolutely certifiable. Sure his tongue was there. At last. But she was soaked. So wet and swollen, so ready for penetration, she was moments away from begging him.

  Her fingers ached from their hard grip around the mahogany dowels in the headboard. Every tendon stretched, every muscle shivering, her body felt as though she’d been placed on a torturer’s rack.

  And he was lapping happily away, like a dog at its water bowl, his tongue flicking her swollen folds, giving her a jolt every now and then, but for the most part, brushing sedately up and down. Did he know she even had a clit? How could he not? It was hard and bulbous, already so swollen the thin skin protecting it had receded. Just his warm breath gusting over it was enough to send her into delirium. She was that close.

  But he seemed to sense every time she climbed, and did something—a nip, a pinch—to catch her before she catapulted over the edge. Her teeth ground together. Her hips jerked, and still, he didn’t seem the least bit eager to end her torture.

  Her breath caught on a sob, and she turned her head and pressed her mouth into her arm to smother the next one. And then a finger slid inside her, pulled out, and another pushed inward. She groaned as he withdrew, and then three fingers worked their way inside. Needing to increase the friction, she planted her feet on the bed and raised her hips, tilting to take him deeper. She was raw and hot inside, ripples working their way up and down the inside of her channel. Ready to weep, she cried out when his lips latched around her clit and sucked it. Gently at first, then drawing harder and harder.

  Her heartbeat pounded and her entire body tensed. Her hips pumped and held. He pulled and pulled and then worked his lips a fraction lower, somehow enclosing the base and then tugged and tugged, his fingers pumping inside her juicy walls until she exploded.

  She shattered, wailing loudly, her eyesight closing around a pinprick of light like a camera’s shutter, then expanding while her breath caught, held and then she was sobbing.

  Strong hands wrapped around hers and eased them, a finger at a time, from the dowels. She was pulled into an embrace so tight she could barely breathe, but she snuggled closer, needing comfort. Needing him while the shaking subsided.

  When she came back to herself, she realized she was clutching his chest, his skin white around the pinching fingers. She released her hold and smoothed his skin, and then glanced up.

  His expression displayed not a hint of smug satisfaction. Not a glimmer of pride. Just his dark, steady gaze, waiting for her. “Wow,” she whispered. She realized his cock was heavy and pressed against her belly. “What about you?”

  “I’m fine,” he said.

  The tightness of his voice said otherwise. “What do you need?” she asked, soothing fingers over his taut chest.

  “You’re spent.”

  “I am,” she said, noting the tension in his jaw, “but I’m still willing.”

  “Then roll onto your stomach. You don’t have to do a thing. I’ll be quick.”

  Reluctant to leave his heat, she rolled away, but smiled just the same as he quickly lifted her hips and shoved pillows under her belly to raise her bottom.

  The sound of plastic tearing made her smile widen, and then he covered her, his cock nudging her folds and entering her so fast, so easily, it was almost a relief, relaxing—until he began to thrust.

  Incredibly, she was there again, his thickness spearing her, stretching her, the friction heating her from the inside. She got her knees beneath her, her hands fisting in the bedding to anchor her body while he hammered her bottom.

  She moaned and mewled, and began to shove backward, meeting his thrusts, loving the slippery sounds they made, the quickness of his breaths and the hard grip of his desperate hands.

  The moment her next orgasm swept over her, he pushed inward, so deeply he touched her cervix, and held as his body shuddered and he issued deep agonizing groans.

  She must have slept, because when she was aware again, the lights were out in the cabin. A rustling sounded from the doorway, and she watched as Justin slipped inside, dressed in a pink Hawaiian shirt—one curiously similar to the shirt Mr. Halloran had worn the previous evening at dinner. She kept silent, waiting as he stripped and then eased down onto the bed, slipping beneath the sheets.

  Questions flitted through her mind, but his gentle movements as he settled, slipping an arm beneath her and pulling her close, took precedence over her curiosity. She rested against his chest, her ear just above his heart. The beats were steady, and then slowed. As he relaxed, he sighed.

  Whatever he’d been up to before, he was with her now, his warm skin cloaking hard muscle, as oddly comforting as it was arousing. She stirred, pretending to awaken. And then her stomach growled.

  Justin’s hands glided on her back. “You’re awake.”

  She groaned. “My stomach’s awake.”

  “Shall we head to the galley?”

  “Do we have to shower first? I don’t think I have the energy.”

  He chuckled and kissed her forehead. “There are robes in the bathroom.” He smacked her rump with a playful swat.

  Lifting her head to look at him, she smiled. “I spoke too soon when I was bragging to Lace and Maya.”

  His mouth curved. “About what?”

  Susan held his gaze in the darkening room and smiled slowly. “What we did before I rudely fell asleep—that was the best I ever had.”

  Chapter Six

  ‡

  They dined on thick steaks and fully loaded potatoes, packing in the calories as though neither of them had eaten in days.

  Justin’s nose wrinkled and he lifted his upper lip, pointing a fork at his front teeth. “You have pepper…”

  “Seriously,” she said, smiling. “Pepper in my teeth isn’t sexy?”

  He waggled his eyebrows. “Now a stray pubic hair…”

  Yech. She held up her hand. “Stop. Now.”

  They were seated at the galley counter on stools, side by side, neither willing to take the time to set the table, only realizing after they’d shooed away the staff that there might have been a few benefits to waiting for their privacy.

  Still, the meal was fun. She’d taken the bottle of beer he’d offered instead of wine without a demur. And yes, he was being lazy. Or rather expedient. The faster they ate, the quicker they could get back to sexier pursuits.

  He reached across and gave her breast a little pinch. “You dropped potato,” he said, pretending to move it to his mouth.

  “You just wanted an excuse to feel me up.”

  He tugged the belt at her middle, loosening it until the robe parted, exposing the curves of her breasts.

  “Aren’t you worried someone might see us through the windows?” she asked, tilting her head toward the deck outside.<
br />
  “Do you really think Halloran’s staff hasn’t seen it all? He’s a single man.”

  “In his fifties.”

  “Not dead. And Maya says he’s cute.”

  “Well, he is. I like his little gray pony tail.” She tipped the beer bottle to her lips.

  “Should I be jealous?”

  “Did I get naked for him?” With a sinuous move, she shrugged her shoulders, allowing her robe to puddle at her hips.

  “Holy shit.” He reached for her robe and tried to pull it up, but she shifted her bottom, trapping the fabric there. Then she lifted her chin.

  Sure, her cheeks were hot and from the periphery of her vision, she saw her breasts were reddening, but embarrassment wasn’t what made her skin flush.

  Justin’s cheeks billowed around a quick exhale. He slid off his stool and stood, tightening his belt.

  “But you haven’t finished your steak,” she said, rounding her eyes in mock-innocence.

  “You finished our meal,” he said, his words clipped. Then he bent, dragging her over his shoulder and pulling the robe over her body as he hauled her up.

  Susan laughed as he walked swiftly from the galley, out the door and strode with pounding steps toward his cabin. Once inside, he kicked the door shut. With a heave, he tossed her and she landed in the center of the bed, bouncing on the mattress.

  Her laughter grew and grew as he came over her, his legs trapping hers, his hands clamping around her wrists. His face was set, his eyes dark. Which strangely made her laugh harder. And then a rumbling vibration beneath them caught her attention. “The boat?”

  “Is leaving the dock,” he growled.

  “We’re sailing? Where?” she asked, her eyes widening.

  “It’s a surprise. I’m not telling you.”

  “Are we going far?”

  “No more questions,” he said, then bent to cover her lips.

  Not that she could form another question. Not with his tongue diving into her mouth. Susan moaned and reached between them, opening his robe. Seconds later, he slid inside her, and her laughter left her with his first hard thrust.