At Her SEAL's Command (SEALs of Roseville, Book One)

by Selena Blake

  “Hurry,” she breathed.

  “In a rush, doll?”

  “You have no idea,” she muttered.

  She couldn't remember a time when she hadn't wanted Dylan Harper. While the other girls in her homeroom were fawning over the guys on the football team, she'd been scoping out her brother's best friend. While her best friend Latisha had been mooning over movie stars and boy bands and Usher, she'd been trying to figure out how to be alone with Dylan.

  He paused, fly agape, black and white checkered boxers showing. His stare was intent, almost as if he was willing her to understand.

  “I meant what I said, Reya. I've wanted you for a long time.”

  That surprised her even though she’d wanted to believe he's seen her as more than a kid sister. He’d always treated her like she was special and now he was finally making a move. They were stepping outside of the friend zone and she couldn’t wait to feel him inside her, around her.

  “How long?” She wished her hands were free so she could touch him. With her hands essentially trapped at her sides, she felt extra exposed.

  But the heat in his eyes said she wouldn’t have to wait much longer.

  Dylan watched the uncertainty war with desire in her eyes. He must have been better at keeping secrets than he'd thought.

  “A long, long, long time,” he said, punctuating each word with a kiss to her face.

  Eyes, cheeks, chin, and finally, her lips. She moaned and then he heard her hands move, rustling the fabric of the painter’s smock as she strained.

  He had to admit, he liked the way she couldn't move her arms too far. At his mercy, she'd been unable to do more than enjoy and vocalize. But they were past that point now and he needed to feel her skin against his, beneath his.

  Leaning closing, he trailed kisses down her jaw until he was at her ear. “And now I get to have you.”

  A breathy sigh escaped her lips and he slid his palms from her hips upward, flicking his thumbs over her nipples as he went. Despite the scent of paint, he inhaled her sweet honey fragrance. It made him want to lick her all over and see if she tasted as good as she smelled.

  “I want to touch you.”

  “And as much as I want you to do that, you probably shouldn't,” he said, even as he took mercy on her and released the buttons at her wrists.

  “Why?”

  “Let's just say I've been without a woman for a while.”

  “Really?” She went still.

  He pulled back and looked into her dark eyes. “Truly.”

  “But—” She didn't finish the thought.

  “What'd you think I did on missions? Hit every bar in town?”

  She shuddered and he mentally kicked himself. “I honestly try not to think of it.”

  “Reya—” he said softly.

  “But you're not always away.”

  He shrugged, not really wanting or knowing how to explain. And really, that wasn't important right now. What was important was getting naked and showing her how much he needed to be inside her, under her, surrounded by her.

  “Enough talking.”

  He trailed a finger down between her breasts to soften his words. She nodded and then grinned.

  “More kissing,” she said, lifting her lips to his.

  He groaned. “Exactly.” He’d always thought they’d be on the same wave length. And he couldn’t get enough of her lips. Now that he’d finally sampled them, he wanted to keep on drinking, tasting, and teasing.

  Hooking his thumbs beneath the hem of her tank top, he gathered the fabric and pulled it over her head. Today’s bra was pale blue, sheer with swirls of matching thread. Heaven help him, he wanted to trace the design with his tongue.

  But there’d be time for that later.

  Slipping his arms around her waist, he backed out of the room. Their tongues tangled as his back met her bedroom door. They worked together to get the knob twisted and the door open. He had the presence of mind to make sure the curtains were closed.

  “This ought to be interesting,” she murmured between kisses.

  He scooped her up and then laid her gently on the twin bed. “Is it weird?”

  Right now he was kicking himself for painting his bedroom. He’d had a double bed growing up but this was his grandmother’s bedroom and the bed was smaller. But at least it was horizontal and he wasn’t at risk of putting his foot in a pan of paint.

  “Kiss me and I won’t be thinking about anything else.”

  Damn she was good for his ego.

  He stood to finish shucking his jeans but smiled down at the gorgeous site. She was glorious and better than he’d imagined. Her skin was a few shades darker than his, her body full of delicious curves that he fully intended to explore.

  He toed off his shoes then hooked his thumbs over the top of his jeans and boxers and shoved them down, finally freeing his cock.

  Kicking them out of the way, he looked his fill. From years of intensive study, he'd known she was stacked, but looking at her now...with a sexy bra hinting at what lay beneath... That last little bit hidden from his view turned him on even more. He left the garment exactly as it was, preferring to use his imagination for a few minutes longer.

  He'd love to see her wrapped up in a black silk ribbon, crisscrossing her body, binding her. But that wasn't going to happen so he pushed the mental picture from his mind as he came down on one knee.

  She reached for him and he intercepted her arms.

  “I was serious about not touching me,” he said, holding her wrists above her head. “Keep them like this.”

  “But—”

  “No buts... I promise to let you touch me later.”

  “You'd better. You're not the only one who's been fantasizing...”

  “But I'm the only one who'll come if you touch me.”

  “Wanna bet?”

  Her saucy reply made him groan. He stole another kiss.

  Holding her wrists with one hand, drinking from her lips, he let his other hand caress. Her skin was smooth and taut, warm and beckoning. He skimmed his fingertips down her sides until she shifted against him. This was better than he'd ever expected; she was so much more responsive than he'd anticipated.

  It was almost as if their bodies had a language all their own. He liked that idea.

  Sliding his hand across her belly, he trailed the backs of his fingertips down her right thigh. Her legs fell apart instantly, almost begging.

  “So wanton,” he whispered against her lips, completely delighted that she wanted his touch so badly.

  “Mmm huh.”

  “God, Reya... I've dreamed of this for so long,” he said against her neck. “Tell me I'm not dreaming.”

  “You're not dreaming.”

  “Thank God.”

  Pulling his hand north, he settled it at the apex of her thighs. Her mound was completely nude; that'd been a delicious surprise earlier. Though, he'd been trying to figure out why she'd shaved. For herself? Did she like the way it felt? Or was it for another man?

  That singular thought had been peppering the back of his mind like a BB gun for the last five minutes. No matter how much he tried to ignore it, it just kept coming back around.

  She hadn't said a word about another man. As far as he knew she hadn't gotten any phone calls or gone to meet another guy. But that was all moot; she wasn't the type to carry on with him if she was with someone else. Of that he was sure. Damn sure.

  But that didn't mean there couldn't be a guy in her recent past. A Spaniard, perhaps?

  “Why'd you stop?” she asked, her voice concerned.

  He kissed her cheek. “Sorry.”

  “Tell me.”

  Trust Reya to want to talk during sex.

  “Dylan...”

  “I was just wondering why you shave down here.” He traced her slit with his middle finger and smiled as she gasped.

  “Actually, it's a wax job. Lasts longer and is much smoother.”

  “I like it.” Understatement of the millenn
ium.

  “Do you?”

  “Oh yeah. Wasn't that obvious?” He’d dined on her like she was his last meal. For as long as he lived, he'd never forget the delicious sounds coming from her throat.

  “I just didn't want you to think I was...whatever.”

  That brought him up short. “What?”

  She shrugged and her breasts heaved. “I've been shaving for years.”

  He groaned. He didn't need to know that but now that he knew he was going to have to go back to every fantasy. Rethink every time they'd been together in the past and wonder if she'd been utterly bare beneath her panties.

  “So...you did it for you then?” He continued to pet her, relishing the incredible smoothness of her skin.

  “Of course. You thought...you thought I did it for a guy?”

  It was his turn to shrug, and hate the possessive monster inside of him. He'd been fighting that side of himself for years; the voice that demanded she was his and he needed to claim her.

  “I'm not proud of it, but the thought crossed my mind.”

  “Jealous much?”

  “Insanely. And we're talking too much.”

  “I like talking like this.”

  “He doesn't.” He rubbed his cock against her hip and she giggled softly.

  “He can't talk.”

  “Touché.”

  She stared at him with an earnest expression and imploring dark eyes. “Can I tell you a secret?”

  He wanted to tell her to keep it. He should just kiss her and let them lose themselves in each other. But something in her eyes made him curious.

  “You know you can. Always.”

  He liked to think that he'd always been there for her, that she could tell him anything. While he'd never thought of her as a little sister, he wanted her to trust him just like she trusted her brother.

  “It's always been you.”

  It took half a minute for her words to finally click into place, register with his brain.

  “Don't say that.”

  “Why not?” She tugged her hands free and he let them go. “Because this is just an experiment to you?”

  “Hell no,” he barked. “God, no. Reya...”

  He cupped her cheek and leaned forward to kiss her. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and he lost himself in her, in the feel of her soft body cushioning his.

  Her curves welcomed him as he rolled on top of her. Once again, her body spoke a language that his understood perfectly. She wrapped her legs around his hips and he groaned at how well she fit beneath him. Like the last piece to his puzzle.

  He thrust his hips slowly, driving his cock along her wetness. Becoming slicker by the second, he severed the kiss and took a deep breath. With his forehead propped against hers, he held himself in check. But his self-control was thin, like dental floss thin.

  “Take me, Dylan.” She spoke the words into his mouth and then sucked on his lower lip. Her nails raked gently across his shoulders and down his back. He held his breath, knowing she'd find his scars if she kept up her crusade.

  “Gladly.”

  He vaulted off the bed to find the condom in his jeans. He'd bought a brand new box with her in mind, hoping against hope that he'd get to use them. Placing the foil packet between his teeth, he ripped it open.

  On the bed, Reya squirmed, her legs closing. She shifted her hips left, giving him a peak at her ass. Then she stretched her arms over her head and closed her hands over the wicker headboard.

  “Damn, you’re gorgeous.” His eyes focused on the delicate details of her bra and the hard nipples poking the fabric. He couldn't wait to taste them.

  “And all yours.”

  He sheathed himself like his life depended on it. Then he knelt on the bed, careful to keep them centered. Her legs parted again, giving him a hell of a view. She was wet, glistening for him in the soft afternoon light. He nipped the inside of her knee as he made his way back up her body.

  This was what he'd waited so damn long for. Too long. She was his match, saucy but submissive. She held his gaze as he kissed his way up her torso. He felt his heart swell in his chest and knew that today would be the first day of the rest of his life. His life would be different and so would their relationship.

  With her words ringing in his ears, he cupped her breasts, weighing the heavy globes with his hands. Then, unable to resist any longer, he pulled the cups down, revealing dark discs and hard nipples. He couldn’t decide which one to suck first.

  When in doubt, go right.

  Not the best time for Mabel’s voice to fill his head but the advice helped. Forearm braced along the edge of the small bed, he leaned right, curling his tongue around her nipple. Her response was immediate and wonderful. Her back arched, a moan left her lips, and her fingers tightened until the wicker creaked.

  He flicked the hard peak back and forth, teasing it mercilessly before applying a gentle suction that brought another round of sweet sounds from her throat.

  He loved how vocal she was and lost track of time and place as he concentrated on driving her wild. Only when he'd kissed and caressed her thoroughly did he slide a hand between her legs.

  “Dylan—” Damn, he loved how she breathed his name. Their need was entirely mutual.

  Sliding a finger between her slick lips, he made sure she was ready for him. The first probe of his cock was met with another moan that made him feel ten feet tall. Her wetness scorched him as it invited him deeper. And when he was at last all the way home inside her, he paused, propped on his elbows, and memorized everything about the moment. The way her thighs gripped his hips, the way her silky channel gripped his cock, the way she ran her fingers through the hair at the base of his skull. This was one moment he never wanted to forget.

  She murmured his name again and lifted her hips, telling him what she wanted.

  “You feel too good,” he said, meaning every word.

  “So do you.”

  For a brief moment as he stared down at her lovely up turned face, he felt a prickle of unease. Everything was different now. He'd tasted the nectar between her thighs, had suckled her breasts, and tied her up. What if everything went bad? He'd lose her and Teo too.

  She must have seen the emotion on his face because she released her grip on the headboard and cupped his cheek and caressed his stubble with her thumb.

  “What's wrong?”

  “What did I say about talking?”

  “You said no more.”

  Rather than try to ferret out the information, she lifted her head and kissed him.

  “So stop talking and start moving, Harper.” She spoke the words against his lips and lifted her hips. The movement deepened his penetration and he could swear he saw stars.

  “I thought I was giving the orders around here,” he replied.

  She nipped his chin. “Then what are your orders, sir?”

  He lifted his head just far enough, just long enough to take in the breath-stealing mischievous glint in her eyes. Why hadn't he done this sooner?

  “Hold on tight,” he said, abandoning his no-touching rule.

  She made a show of sliding her hand around the back of his neck. Then, with a deliberately slow motion, she slid her other hand down his chest and around his waist.

  “Sir, yes, sir.”

  “Where did this mischievous side of you come from?” He asked as he pulled his hips back and sank in again.

  “She's always been in there, waiting to come out.”

  He thought there was an unspoken “waiting for you” in there as well. But he was probably reading too much into it. Although…maybe not.

  It’s always been you.

  “Gotta admit,” he said, controlling the need rising in him. “I like her.”

  “I like her too,” she said with that killer smile he’d always loved. It made him feel happy and free. Her smile had warmed him on cold nights, driven aches and pains from his body and of course, given him new, more pleasurable aches.

  Forcing himself to
enjoy the moment, he set a slow, steady pace. In and out. Her eyes shuttered and she bit her lower lip. Sweet sounds poured from her throat, driving him faster and faster.

  She was right there with him, moving as one. Arms wrapped around him, urging him on with her hips, her inner muscles began to tighten.

  He’d never been with a woman who could come without stimulation to her clit. But a second later she cried out, her nails dug into his back and her legs locked around his hips. With her head thrown back and her whole body as tight as a guitar string, he’d never seen a lovelier site.

  The view and the sensations sent him over the edge; he groaned against her throat and licked a bead of sweat. Chests rubbing as they caught their breath, they hovered in oblivion together. Momentarily forgetting where he was, he shifted and started to roll to his side but his foot caught air.

  Muscles tightening, his reflexes pushed them back to the middle. Reya laughed softly. “Please don’t dump us on the floor. That’d ruin my orgasm.”

  “I’d cushion the fall,” he promised.

  She gave a small snort. “You might be on bottom but there’s nothing soft about you.”

  “Is that right?” he asked, glad he’d continued his daily work outs as soon as he’d been able.

  She nodded. “You know you’re made of steel.”

  “Not entirely,” he murmured, thinking about his leg and his wounds. If he’d been made of steel he wouldn’t have gotten injured and he’d still be with his Team.

  For the first time, he was actually thankful for his injury. It’d made this possible with her. Now he couldn’t blow it.

  7

  Reya basked in Dylan’s attention as he washed her hair.

  “Next time, I’ll pick a different wall to press you against,” he said as he tried to rid her of the paint.

  “It was worth it.”

  Every moment, decision, second guess had been worth it. If today was all she got with him, she could die a happy woman.

  She inhaled the citrusy scent of her shampoo and closed her eyes. His fingertips massaged her scalp and she went to another place, one where she got to live happily ever after with this man and enjoy this kind of treatment every day.

  When he was done, she dipped her head into the spray and he was there, helping wash the suds out. It amazed her how gentle he was considering his profession. In fact, she was amazed how adjusted he seemed to civilian life. She’d heard horror stories of men who came home and couldn’t fit in.