by Nicole Snow
“I'm not an exhibitionist, Christopher,” I gasp back, hoping the long, formal version of his name might slow down the beast dragging his hands all over me, grinding my hips into his in a way that already resembles full on fucking.
He's right about one thing – everybody else is too wasted to notice. We're one of the only couples left out here since nighttime came. Everybody else is off lounging by the pool, floating lazily with a drink in their hands, or finding some quiet corner to get hot and heavy.
It's young lust and revelry at its finest. Sex is in the air, but it's really his scent that's completely intoxicating.
“Fuck.” His hands pinch my ass tight, so hard I can't help but roll my pussy against the insane ridge in his trousers. “You call me Christopher again, and you're gonna get another spanking, girl. I won't even wait 'til we're out of sight neither.”
“Yeah? How do you know Evie isn't watching us from some window, perched up there like a cat?”
It's a legit worry. I haven't heard from the bitch all day, not since dad left. It's almost too quiet with this party going on, after the threats she made.
Chris just snorts, and shuts me up with another kiss. “Forget about her. She's probably too whacked out on her sleeping pills to know what a fucking window is, much less find us. Your old man's really a goddamned angel for putting up with her as long as he has.”
I can't deny that. It also freezes my blood, wondering how dad will react to Chris and I. It's all but inevitable now, especially since my friends have seen him putting his lips all over mine.
Chris starts spinning me again, pulling me into him, turning me over and rocking his cock up and down the dress stretched tight over my ass. God, he feels good.
So amazing he carries me away from all this, lifts me higher than the worries trying to bury me. There's nothing that can come between us. He's staked his claim, and I'm ready to catch hell to keep it, whatever it takes to keep me in his warrior embrace forever.
There's no more time for heady thoughts when he makes me bend over and grabs his hips. I flush for a second, embarrassed because we're dressed way too nice to be dancing out here like we're doing it doggie style. But I feel his hand across my thigh, and his thrusts grind my clit through all the clothing, cranking the firestorm in my blood to ten thousand degrees.
Damn! I need him to fuck me again, just as bad as I need a cool glass of water.
My hips start rolling back against his. For at least a minute, I'm honest-to-God twerking, and I wonder what kind of big slut he's turned me into.
My eyes don't want to focus through the sultry summer heat, the lust, the pleasure he's pushing through my system. I look up and see several drunken, grinning faces from the pool leering at us, frat boys and sorority girls alike.
Crap. I tear myself up, but Chris catches me, takes my hands in his, and he won't let go. He turns me around so I'm facing away from the crowd before it's right back into the same position, bent over and dangerously positioned against his unstoppable cock.
“We're not leaving this dance floor 'til you come for me, beautiful. I want you to lose it just like that first night.” He leans in, brushing his sandpaper stubble across my cheek, breathing into my ear so hot I think I'm going to combust.
“Are you crazy?” I'm trying to be serious. Too bad crazy comes out as a moan when I feel his friction on my clit, pulling me deeper into this nasty, animal heat. “We can't do it out here! They're watching us.”
“Let 'em.” He's dead serious, and that's when I know I'm in too deep with a man who's totally nuts beneath his handsome exterior. “I meant everything I said after I got here, Delia. Everybody's gonna see us dance, baby, and I don't give a single fuck.”
He rips me up, spins me in his arms, and my whole world shatters. One hand grabs my ass, stiffens me against him, and the other somehow shoots all the way underneath my skirt, slowly making its way up, down beneath my panties.
He shoves his fingers inside me, giving my clit a rough stroke with his thumb, before I can even protest.
Oh, God. Oh, fuck. Oh, no!
“Chris, it's too much. I can't come like this. I can't come standing up with everybody just staring at us...”
“Nobody's seeing shit,” he growls. “You've got your back turned. Looks just like we're dancing. And we are, babe. Bring it home. Give me your finest moves now, and I'll give you mine all goddamned night. Deal?”
I lick my lips. My throat feels like a desert. I'm probably dehydrated from the sopping wet mess I've made in my pants, and my pussy still won't stop creaming on his fingers.
He's swaying me gently, moving his hand just perfectly. I still think the assholes behind us can see everything if they really look, but it probably looks like a gentle waltz, like two drunken, overdressed lovers at a wedding swaying to the rhythmic drumming pouring out the speakers.
Deal. I can't say it, but it's all I can think as he strokes my clit harder.
My knees buckle, ready to send me crashing to the ground, but the badass SEAL holds me up. Just when I think I can't do it, he proves me wrong.
His lips come down on my mine. My body explodes. I come so hard I see stars, feeling my pussy clench around his fingers, fucking me with deep precision. My clit aches, burns, and pulses against his hand.
I fight crying out, but I end up doing it in his mouth instead. He devours my pleasure, and keeps stroking my cunt, a prelude to all the ways I know he'll be taking me with his magnificent cock later tonight.
I'm literally collapsing by the time the storm passes. I fall down against him and he holds me tight, wiping sweat off my brow, kissing me more gingerly.
“J-Jesus Christ! I can't believe you made me do that,” I stammer. “We've got to set some boundaries, Mister.”
He chuckles, low and masculine. Christ, even his laugh makes me burn for him, makes me want to drop to my knees and suck his cock right here in the open. I don't know what the hell I'm turning into.
“You leave that to me, baby. I know where you've got your hard limits, and I'm gonna push them all.”
“But why?” I bite my lip and look into his eyes.
“Because you're mine, dammit. You were a fucking virgin just a few weeks ago, Delia. I'm the only man you've ever had, the only one you'll ever have. I'm going to burn these memories into you, leave you something to fuck yourself to every minute I'm overseas, taking care of business for Uncle Sam.”
My heart drops. Is that what he's worried about? He thinks I'm going to run off with another man or lose interest when he isn't around on those long tours of duty?
It should piss me off. I want to believe I've earned his trust, but something about this chink in his armor, disguised in all his usual dirty language, feels sweet.
Regaining my strength post-climax, I stand up on my tip-toes and push my lips against his, kissing him with a whole new hunger. No, it's not just about his insecurities.
He's opening up to me right now by telling me this, showing me a single glaring crack in the ruthless testosterone I'm used to. My hand comes up, and I run it across his face, admiring his powerful jaw.
We kiss for several more minutes. My thighs shift together, desperate to lose these panties, hungry to feel him wedged between them.
“You know there's nothing to worry about, right? I don't know how I'll be a military girl, but I'll learn. You're worth it.” Smiling, I tell him everything, hoping it's everything he wants to hear.
“These missions don't always go smoothly, babe. Sometimes guys get killed. Or captured. They might not come back for years.” There's an edge in his voice like he's preparing me for something, like he knows we're about to run headfirst into the worst challenges a military love can face.
“Come on. I've done my research for that stupid paper I need to have drafted in a couple weeks. I have some idea what it's like for those poor military wives...”
He cocks his head, smug disbelief lining his lips. “You've got theory and no experience. Not yet. You really ready to
put your life on hold for me? To accept there's a chance I might not come home at all?”
He's giving me one more chance to back out. For a second, it all swirls around in my head, foggy and anxious. Then I shake my head furiously, brow furrowed. I want to slap him across the face and tell him to pull it all together – I've been able to handle everything before, right?
Why the hell would I crack up now? I never, ever want to let go of this man, and I'm ready to face the threat that one day his job could make me.
I lean in and whisper in his ear, doing my best imitation of something I know he'd say. “As long as you keep bringing me off like you do, I'm ready for anything. Are we going to stand around talking all night, Chris, or are you going to take me downstairs and fuck me?”
His eyes light up and he laughs. “Good thinking, princess. Guess you've learned a thing or two about pleasing a military boy after all.”
Five minutes later, my dress is falling off, and I'm pressed up against the wall. There's too many people lounging around the house or sleeping, so we sneak downstairs, into the basement.
Dad's wine cellar is always locked. Thank god, or else we'd probably find a few partiers down here, drunk and passed out in a puddle of thousand dollar booze.
We've got to be careful with all the bottles. There's a granite counter with a sink in the center, and that's where Chris makes me perch, tearing off my dress as he sucks at my neck.
“Come on. You can go faster than that. Get me naked.” I rake my nails across his chest, so overwhelmed with need. “I have to feel you inside me.”
Holy shit. It's like I'm in heat, and all I can think about is that dragon on his chest swaying while he fucks me, the trident moving across his muscular canvas like a lightning bolt.
“Working on it. I'm doing you a courtesy, babe, trying not to shred this fancy dress that's had my cock throbbing all night. We're gonna be doing this again.”
“Who cares?” I hook my legs around his hips and run them along his strong ass, begging to feel him. Right now, I wouldn't give a crap if he tore it off me. “I'm a trust fund girl, you know, and a really kickass bargain shopper.”
He stops, looks at me, and grins. “Suit yourself.”
His powerful hands reach behind me and my mouth falls open as I hear the shearing sound of fabric. He completely tears my dress off, and flings it on the floor, moving his hands to my bra and panties next.
They're gone in a half a heartbeat. I'm trying to work on him too, but my fingers keep trembling like a prom girl's. I'm just too damned horny to get more than a few buttons off.
He moves his hands over mine, helps me do it quicker. The princely military suit he's been wearing all evening opens up and reveals the bad boy underneath. His inks fill my eyes, stamped on every rock hard inch of him. The delicious contrast between gentleman and bastard in his body makes my pussy tingle, and I help shove his jacket completely off him.
“All these wines,” he growls, taking a quick look around. “Shame all I wanna taste in this damned room's right in front of me.”
Without another word, he drops down, grabs my ass, and pulls me to his mouth. I'm clenching at the non-existing sheets the instant his tongue slides up my folds, picking up where his fingers left off, before rising to my clit.
“Chris!” I squeal, hoping the thick glass door sealing this room can contain us.
I'm amazed once again how quickly he unravels me. My muscles limber up, then tighten as the pleasure mounts, bound by his tongue smacking my clit again and again and again.
His green eyes are gazing up at me the entire time too. He pulls me tighter, halfway off the counter. Holding me up with his rough hands, he forces me to ride his face, introducing a whole new pleasure.
I should've gotten used to his tongue working its magic in Vegas. Or if not, then certainly all the weeks we've been fucking, but it still feels brand new, something I'll never stop wanting like it's our very first time.
He licks me deep, building to a crescendo, playing the tension in my body like a master conductor. My hips buck against his face as he growls and holds me down. The great wave I know all too well every time I'm with him rises up and swallows me whole.
Fire. Pleasure. Climax.
I come hard and cry out, digging my nails into his head, holding him so hard against my pussy I'm afraid he's going to suffocate.
Thankfully, SEALs are too tough to drown between a woman's legs. Chris just licks me more aggressively, sweeps his tongue across my clit while it's pinched between his teeth, carrying me through the brilliant, screaming storm.
I never know when I stop coming. When I open my eyes, he's naked and on top of me, shoving his cock through my wet silk. I feel his balls jerk to a stop against my ass, and my pussy twitches, flexing around him.
He's so fucking perfect. We're perfect, molded to fit together in the fullest carnal sense.
“There's a good chance I'm leaving soon, baby. Make tonight count,” he growls, stopping to stamp his hot lips and stubble across my throat. He sucks the nook below my ear so hard I know he'll leave a bruise, and I don't care.
“What? There's a mission?”
“Never can tell. That's up to the higher ups. But I know when I smell shit going down, and right now it's an open sewer.” He runs his hand through my hair, tugs my locks in one fist, and pulls, just as he rears back and drives his cock into me again. “Fuck me just like that. Fuck me like you're gonna take my dick when I finally come home. Let's do this thing so hard I'll feel like I'm already having homecoming sex.”
“Chris...”
I say his name softly, but the time for tenderness is over. All the wild energies from the party take over.
His cock slams into me again and again, so much force my hips flex off the table before smashing back into it. I pinch my legs around him, tighter than I've ever held him before. I love how he feels just gliding through my hot, wet pussy, straight up to my womb, and then coming down again, only to lunge forward and fill me all over again.
It's rhythmic. It's fiery. It's so intense I'm on the verge of tears when he starts to grunt and tense up.
The wine cellar always feels a little humid, but tonight it's a damned sauna. Sweat rolls off us in rivulets, and I impulsively rise at one point when he slows his strokes, kissing the drops off his chest.
He tastes salty, masculine, strong.
Just like the sea that keeps calling him away from me, the ocean that wants to pull him away from our love, into dangers I can't comprehend.
His mouth covers mine, owning it. His tongue punches deep, fucking me with the same rough tempo in his hips. I kiss him back harder, sucking him as hard and long as I can, throwing my hands over his neck and digging my nails deep.
“Fuck!” he grunts like a wolf, and I see the killer instinct sparkling in his dark green eyes.
I thought our night was crazy before, but now I feel like a total psycho. A deprived, depraved, sexually famished lunatic. The only cure in the world is his cock, his come.
His sweat, his scent, his thrusts.
“Fuck me so hard it hurts,” I tell him, digging my nails into his neck. “Show me what you've got, Chris, before you take it all to the battlefield. I want you to break me. Leave me something to remember, no matter what happens. Mark me.”
I hear myself saying this crap, and I know I've lost my mind. But deep in my heart, it all feels right, and I realize I owe it all to him.
The virgin good girl died in Vegas. I'm his woman now, and I want to be everything he wants, the brightest, most beautiful spark in his churning inferno.
He doesn't say a word. He starts fucking me faster, faster, faster than we've ever gone before.
His hands squeeze my ass so hard it hurts, lifting me off the granite countertop and slamming me back down again. It's probably going to lose a few bruises, but so what?
The pleasure arcing through my body overwhelms everything. His chest moves so fast the dragon moves like a comet. My arms and legs are burnin
g, and it's hard to breathe. All the oxygen in my lungs drops out as the most intense orgasm of my whole life rips out.
“Chris!” His name rockets out before I'm overwhelmed. It takes all the energy in my body to squeeze out the last two words. “Love. You.”
He's slamming me against the counter like a ragdoll, just as breathless as I am, right on the edge. My pussy clenches as his cock starts to balloon, a prelude to the fire about to fill me, hot come flooding my depths in waves.
He shoves his face against my neck, sucks my flesh into his mouth, and bites down. Hard.
The shock makes my explosion ten times harder.
I come like it's the last time. Ever.
A thousand futures roll before my eyes in a single heartbeat, all the futures with Chris I want and need. Pleasure roars like rising flames, crackling all around me, blinding me, fusing me to him.
I hear him grunt through the swirling chaos, and feel his seed split me in two. We're hooked. One.
Pumping, twitching, groaning, melting...
This time the ecstasy hits like a tornado, stronger and wilder by the second, pulling me deeper into its undertow. I can't let up, can't breathe, can't even recognize who the hell I am. There's just him and I, his cock and my pussy, plus about a million bolts of lightning tearing me apart.
Everything goes white. Then red and black. My clit feels like it's going to burst if it doesn't drown in his come first, overflowing all around us. I want to hold onto it, the pleasure and his seed, root it inside me while his cock continues to jerk, taking his last pleasure while my pussy convulses.
But I can't. I've come close to passing out a dozen times with him before, and this time I actually do.
Fuck.
12
Sweet Delia (Chris)
“Delia! Wake the fuck up. This isn't funny.” If I weren't so freaked out, I'd slap her.
She's been out for like five minutes, barely breathing. I'm about to spin around, pop one of these two hundred year old corks, and splash thousand dollar wine all over her face when she finally moans.
