Blue_SEAL Team Alpha

by Zoe Dawson

  But until then, he was bound.

  Until then, he was hers to do with as she wanted, and what she needed was to put her mouth on him, show him pleasure in this safe place. Taking the hard, jutting heat of him, into her mouth and giving him release, peace. He was so virile, so powerful, his body sculpted by lengths of hard muscle and the strength of the heart that kept him alive when Natasha had mindfucked him.

  She loved him with every breath she took, and a lot of what she loved was the mystery of him. Thirty-three years of growing and being molded, understanding what was important, having the courage to say no, doing what he believed in, and never taking the easy way out. Then pushing, fighting, overcoming BUD/S and brutal training, deep-to-the-core sacrifice, dangerous covert ops, and silent, but deadly, clandestine missions, cheating death and giving life and taking it with his big, gorgeous hands. Talking, thinking, analyzing with that big, beautiful brain.

  He was part of her the way no one ever had been before or would after. She would never forget these feelings. She was in the navy, she supported the mission, but she had never been so proud or felt so safe knowing this man and the other men he worked with were on the job 365/24/7 foregoing comfort, family, holidays and rest to give everyone in the US the chance at life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Giving their all.

  And that smile. Oh, my God. That man’s smile….

  She opened her mouth on his throat, the thought of him turning her on more than his bondage. He groaned, but there was still fear in it. Grazing him with her teeth, licking his skin, the taste of him, his fear, was something she remembered on her tongue. She would never hurt him, never mark him, except with the invisible brand of her mouth. The ropes were tight, but not brutal. He was stretched out and strung up—not the way he’d been in Kirikhanistan, but the way he needed to be here. The way he needed to be healed, find his wholeness, let go of his need to dominate everything in his attempt to block out what had happened to him.

  And with each taste of his skin, with each inch of his body she loved with her mouth, her need for dominance subsided, even as he stilled and his fear of submission dissipated. One coin, two sides, the opposites of their energy, hers feminine and submissive, his masculine and dominating. He’d been traumatized, but they were healing. They would work together to continue that process.

  It had been why they had been so drawn to each other.

  Blue was hers and she belonged to him.

  She grasped his erection, and he jerked against the ropes. Sliding her palm over him, she then added her tongue to the rounded tip. His hips surged, his back arching.

  He always made it good for her in bed, but this was where he laid his true claim, when he gave it up to her in the lost darkness of his mind, poised on the promise of pain, but finding pleasure instead. Admiration, gentleness, submission to overcome the memory of being raped and forced.

  No one could take this journey with him to the blackest edges of his psyche better than her. He was a SEAL, she had to push his boundaries, and then push farther until the abyss opened up and swallowed him whole—but she never let him fall alone.

  Never.

  His muffled groan sounded above her, and a shudder went through him, the tremor of it running the length of his body. He was scared, and that openness was something only a man who had known the deepest courage could exude.

  Oh, God, he was so sexy, so hard and heavily muscled, so delicious. She opened her mouth wider and slid her tongue over him, again and again. His every reaction went straight to her groin and made her hot for him, made her feel hot and wet. He tasted earthy and thick, and she knew exactly what to do.

  She closed her mouth over him, his hoarse cry settling in her like golden sunlight, releasing the knot of fear inside her even more.

  How she loved this man.

  He said her name. Even muffled, she recognized it—as she took all of him to the base, working her mouth to give him the most pleasure, teaching him all over again how to trust, how to let go of the demons who rode him both in sleep and in waking. He shuddered and groaned, making the pain and the fear go away, giving him the purity of her love, attention and respect.

  His body undulated, but he was so securely bound, he couldn’t move much. He groaned again, deeper, looser, and she knew it was time to take him where he needed to go. Exchanged the stroke of her fingers for the silken swirl of her tongue and the suctioning pull of her lips.

  With a ragged groan, his neck arched as she took him slow and deep, using her tongue in incredibly erotic ways to show him how good it could be. Over and over she drove him to the brink, only to ease back just enough to keep him right on the edge, keeping his passion, his desire for her sharp. She lingered and played, as if there was no other place she’d rather be than right here with him. As if they had all the time in the world and she wanted to make this last.

  There was a place in his mind where sex and fear had come together, where he’d learned control was an illusion, where helplessness had filled his world, strength had failed him, his training had failed him, his will had failed him, and he’d cracked, split open, lost his nerve and himself. He could never really go back to the way he was before. He was forever changed. She knew that so well, as her life had been irrevocably changed the day she’d crashed into the ocean. But he was teaching her about coming back to herself, having the courage to know all those dark things and still have hope for a future.

  The path to his healing was here, right here. It wasn’t enough to make him come. She’d done that for him in bed. What he needed now, what she needed, was for her to make him come apart…completely, totally apart.

  She reached for the rope at his back with her free hand, taking hold of it just below his waist, and she pulled, stretching him tighter—and she teased him with her tongue, teased him until his groans became a sob, a soft sound of distress and longing.

  So sexy and starting to come undone for her. Her Blue, her surfer boy, her Navy SEAL, her broken pieces…it was time to mend.

  No more shame, no more humiliation, just love given and taken, received and accepted.

  Her mouth enveloped him once more, all the way to the base of his erection, then back up again, sucking him harder, faster, deeper. He was so hard, the tightness telling her he was close.

  She gave the rope a short tug, freeing the hand she’d tied at his back. He immediately brought it around to the back of her head, tunneling his fingers through her hair and holding her closer, pressing himself closer, begging her to do what she was doing only faster, only harder, and to please, please, please…suck on him.

  She heard him in every cell, heard him in the back of her mind and on the tip of her tongue. When she gave him the release she’d been building to, it was all over for her scarred warrior. His body went tight, his head went back, and release flooded through him, making his skin hot. She let him ride his wave of pleasure to the end, let it break over him and drive him goddamn crazy.

  Oh, God. They knew. Together they knew they weren’t in control of this.

  They weren’t in control of anything with them, and that kept them hooked, heart and soul.

  She pulled the rope and felt it loosen, felt it slip and slide and pool onto the floor, felt him do the same, his body suddenly going limp. She didn’t let him fall. She never let him fall.

  Never ever.

  She held him, keeping him close. When he was in her arms, she pulled the gag down, and with the delicious taste of him still warm in her mouth, she kissed him, long and deep and slow.

  He buried his face against her throat, his tears washing down her skin, his body convulsing with the release of everything until, at last he was washed clean.

  And with his yielding, the purge of his pain, fear, and shame, came her solidity, confidence that idenity she’d lost so long ago had been retrieved, claimed. Blue had given it back.

  Now, now, they were changed for the better to be able to fight on. Do what had to be done, save themselves and get the answers they n
eeded to continue to fight oppression, cruelty, terrorism, and evil.

  She rocked him against her as he subsided, kissing his forehead, his perfect, full mouth. She pushed up the blindfold and met his clear, aching eyes, moisture heavy on his thick lashes. She cupped his face, her palm rasping against his golden stubble, her thumb wicking at his cleansing tears. She dragged his head against her chest and just held him. His arms tightened around her waist, her tears dropping onto his rough cheek. Nothing but intensity and a deep, solid bond existed in their world. She was his…only and always his.

  She’d embarked on this journey from her family trauma into shibari as a way to find some meaning in her world. The art had given her the tools she’d needed to move away from that trauma, to find the trust that she could give again, to give it freely and without measure.

  And with their embrace, they let their old selves die, and there was nothing left but the promise of what they, these new, enlightened people, could have. That future was bright with hope and love. So much love.

  Epilogue

  The minute Blue got home, all he wanted to do was Charlie. She’d been there on the tarmac with the other girlfriends and wives to welcome their warriors home from a mission to track down the warhead that had been nothing but wasted time. They still had no idea where they had gone. It was just luck that they had leave at the same time.

  He dropped his duffel in the hall and pulled her toward him, but she escaped his arms. “I’ve got something to show you.”

  “I’ve got something to show you, too, babe, and it’s been goddamned lonely.”

  “Has it? My poor, neglected baby Blue. Everything in its time. Come on.” She took his hand and drew him down the hall. He frowned.

  “Come on, Charlie,” he groused. “I’m not hungry for anything except you.”

  “Too bad. This is important.”

  He sighed as she stopped before the door to his meditation room. “Charlie…what?”

  She pushed the door open, and his breath caught. Everything had been restored, the artwork on the walls, the Buddha, his pristine white mat. And in the center of the room was a small brazier with a kettle on it, steam escaping. Around the brazier were his team members still in their battle gear. They must have come straight from deplaning.

  “I’ve seen enough of these guys,” Blue said deadpan, and everyone laughed. “Sometimes more than I want to.”

  “Yeah, that was an unfortunate robe incident,” Kid said.

  Blue chuckled and shook his head. Leave it to Kid for the absurd. He turned to Charlie. “Did you do this?”

  “We all did this. For you.”

  His throat thick, he took in the small scroll that Charlie had hung on the wall, traditional in the samurai ceremony. It had one short message: Hit like the impact zone.

  He smiled and pulled her into his arms. “I love you,” he whispered. “Thank you for this. The circle is complete.”

  “Love you back, babe.”

  They went into the room, and Blue prepared the first of two loose-powdered green teas. Koicha, a more formal tea, thicker with a bitter taste, served in a beautiful lotus bowl, everyone taking a sip. Then there was usucha, thinner and more informal, served in individual bowls. In the past, he’d wanted this room to fill him with peace, but it wasn’t the room function to give him peace. No, he’d discovered that came from inside him.

  “This is great and everything,” Tank said, “but we need meat,” he growled, standing and beating his chest.

  “Yeah, meat!” everyone yelled.

  Charlie laughed and said, “The meat is in the fridge. Will porterhouse steaks do?” There were growls and howls all around. “The barbeque is ready.”

  “That one’s a keeper,” Hollywood said as one by one they filed out of the room.

  All at once, their significant others arrived: Dana, Ruckus’s wife; Paige, Kid’s wife; Cowboy’s fiancée, Kia; and finally, Tank’s fiancée, Alyssa. Blue leaned over and gave Charlie a long, lingering kiss. “I’m thankful for this, but your timing sucks,” he said.

  She laughed. “All in good time, my love. Let’s go bond with your teammates. I want to hear what Kid did on the mission. You know there’s a story there.”

  “I live it every mission, so yeah, I know. At least this time he didn’t need medical attention.”

  Charlie laughed. “I can’t wait.”

  Kid’s story was, of course was hilarious—involving a truck loaded with chickens, eggs, several chicken and egg jokes and explosives, making sure everyone knew there had been no chickens harmed in the op. His closing line was that he’d left those cartel guys with plenty of egg on their faces. Once the party broke up, the food was put away and Charlie and Blue bid everyone goodbye. They made it upstairs and he took her like a man who hadn’t seen the woman he loved for three long months.

  * * *

  They lay together in the afterglow, his hand caressing her hip, them tangled up in the sheets and each other. A soft breeze blew over them. Blue tightened his hold on her, then kissed her with infinite care, moving slowly inside her. The loving had been urgent and out of control at first. Charlie’s breath caught when he moved against her, her body still super-sensitized. Releasing a satisfied sigh, he broke off the kiss and looked at her, the light from the lamp beside the bed highlighting the precious angles of his arresting face. He gazed down at her, his eyes warm and intimate, softened by a glimmer of amusement. He smoothed his thumbs across her cheekbones, a smile tugging at his mouth. “You didn’t even tie me up once.”

  She turned her head and kissed the palm of his hand, then gave him a wry grin and slid her hands up his naked back. “The night is young, and I never go anywhere without my rope.”

  He grinned at her, then leaned down and gave her another kiss. “God, you’re a pain in the butt, sassy pants. How about I use the rope on you?”

  She savored the taste of his lips, loving the feel of him still inside her. God, but it felt so good to have him here.

  He heaved another contented sigh, then braced his weight on his arms and looked down at her, brushing a strand of hair off her face. He gave her that slow, lazy grin of his.

  “You think you can take me because you’re a big, bad Navy SEAL?”

  She rubbed her hands across his taut shoulders and over his chest. His eyes flaring, his brows rose as her hands delved deeper. “Like you’re helpless,” he said.

  She smiled into his eyes. “Oh, you’re so sure of yourself, are you?”

  She moved and rolled him onto his back, and his bark of laughter made her heart sing. It was nothing but pure joy. “Looks like I landed myself a beautiful SEAL.”

  “I think I got the best of the bargain, my lovely.”

  Blinking against the sudden tears, she shook her head. “Nope.”

  His face grave with emotion, he cupped her head and drew his thumbs along her damp lashes. “Marry me, beautiful.”

  The tears spilled over and she swallowed hard. “Yes.”

  He stared at her, his gaze dark and intent, then a trace of amusement tugged at his mouth. “Cross your heart and hope to die?”

  She laughed through her tears, loving him so much she couldn’t hold it in. “Well, I’m going to omit the dead part, but, yeah, cross my heart.”

  The amusement spread to his eyes, making his laugh lines crinkle. “Agreed. I wouldn’t want that.” He stared up at her, his heart in his eyes.

  She stroked over his abdomen, her nails raking his lower stomach. Having him with her and knowing it was going to be forever made her happiness complete.

  “With one exception,” she said with a very evil grin.

  “Oh, we’re negotiating, are we?”

  She nodded.

  He held her gaze for a space, then started tugging on her hair. “Okay, brat. What’s the condition?”

  “There are two.”

  “Two,” He breathed out a mock annoyed breath and said, “What are they?”

  “One, we do our best to connect wher
ever we are, no matter how far apart we are.”

  His eyes shone. “And the other?”

  She lifted her hand and pointed to her finger. “Ring? Duh? Where’s my freaking ring, babe?”

  His face went blank, then he curled up laughing so hard, she couldn’t help but join in. “In my jeans pocket,” he said through peals of laughter. She fell onto his chest, and they laughed for several minutes. Then she reached down and snagged his pants, pulling out the box. Her breath caught right before she opened it, then caught again at the symbol of their love. It had nothing to do with the exquisite diamond, but all about what it meant. A lifetime with Ocean.

  Without another word, all amusement gone, he took the ring out of the box and slipped it all the way to the knuckle. Then he cupped the back of her head and kissed her, long and slow.

  “I love you, baby Blue,” she whispered brokenly. “So much.” “We’ll make this work, Ocean. I know we will. It’s only a five-hour flight from Hawaii to San Diego.”

  He pulled her close and kissed her for a long time. “And, from San Diego to Hawaii,” he murmured. “Wherever I’m deployed, you will always be with me, Charlie. I am committed to you completely.”

  “I feel the same way. You’re always with me.”

  “We have some time before getting back to duty.” He looked up at her, a heart-stopping smile in his eyes. He tightened his hold on her neck, his tantalizing lips only a hairsbreadth away. “Now, let’s talk about some rope,” he whispered.

  The laughter chased them into another kiss, his mouth moist and warm against hers until there was no more breath for either of them as they showed each other the truth embedded in their healed, open, and loving hearts.