Her hips bucked lightly beneath him as he rested in the cradle of her thighs, and unable to resist, he ground himself deeper against her core.
She gasped aloud, arching up toward him again.
“Are you wet for me?” he asked huskily, clasping both her wrists in one hand and lifting them above her head. She whimpered and squirmed on the bed, and he felt himself growing even harder. He shifted his weight slightly, widening her legs with one of his, and slipped his hand into the top of her panties. His large hand splayed across her flat stomach as his fingers edged beneath the cotton, and with her body spread out beneath him, he wanted to roar with approval. Growl out, “Mine!” caveman style and beat his chest at finally having his woman here. In his house. On his bed.
“Ryan,” she whimpered, as he paused, his fingers barely beneath that tiny triangle of fabric. “Please!”
He slid his hand further into her panties, cupping her mound, and feeling her heat. He lazily ran his fingers through her soft curls and traced up and down her seam, watching her reaction to his touch. Her cheeks began to flush as her breathing became shallow, and he tightened his grip on her wrists, careful not to hurt her, and slowly ran his fingers through her swollen folds.
“Fuck, you are wet,” he said.
He caressed her intimately as he ducked and kissed her, swallowing her cries with his mouth.
She was so soft and silken, and he was dying to thrust his cock deep inside her. To feel her walls clenching down around his aching shaft. But he needed her pleasure first. Needed to hear her crying out his name as he pinned her to his bed and made her scream her release. Needed to make her come on his hand and his mouth before he even thought about bringing her to orgasm on his cock.
His fingers slid upward, through her drenched folds, until he circled the tiny nub of her clit. She gasped, and he kissed her deeper, driving her wild as he sought her pleasure.
He circled her tiny bud again, enjoying all the gasps and tiny sounds she made. She writhed on his bed, completely at his mercy. Without giving it a second thought, he suddenly needed all of her, and ripped her panties right off.
She gasped in shock, and he stopped kissing her for only a moment to growl that he’d buy her a whole damn store full. He found her molten center and slowly slid one finger in, groaning as he felt her walls clench around him. She was so fucking tight. Sinking his cock deep inside her velvety walls later would be absolute fucking heaven.
He added a second finger, stretching her inner walls as he slowly pumped them in and out, and swallowed her cries as she mewled against him. He thrust his tongue in and out of her mouth, matching the rhythm of his fingers. She bucked up and off the bed, thrusting her breasts into the air, and he felt her inner walls beginning to tighten.
Holy hell she was beautiful. Her face flushed, her nipples erect against the lace of her bra. Her hands clenched tightly in fists above her head. He ducked lower and sucked one nipple into his mouth as he slowly ran his thumb over her clit and she moaned loudly, trembling at his touch. Pumping his fingers faster into her molten core, she arched off the bed, crying out in sheer pleasure, and as he swirled his thumb over her clit and thrust his fingers in and out of her tight channel, she detonated.
Sarah screamed and writhed on the bed as her inner walls clamped down around him, and male pride surged through his chest as he watched her explode. She cried out again and again as he drew out her orgasm, loving watching her come completely undone at his touch.
He’d wanted to make her plead and beg him for her release, but it was too fucking hard to resist touching her. Pleasuring her. Giving her everything.
She gasped as she slowly came back down to Earth, her body completely sated. Her hazel eyes met his, her body going completely limp on his bed as he softly kissed her once more.
“Sleep,” he commanded. “You’ve had a long day.”
“But—”
“Don’t argue with me, woman,” he growled, laughing as she playfully swatted at him. “I’ll make love to you later. Much later. After you recover from that Earth-shattering orgasm I gave you.”
He grinned wickedly but stopped any further protest with another searing kiss.
He pulled her into his arms, enjoying the feel of her warm body nestled against his. Hell, he still hadn’t even undressed, but it had been a long twenty-four hours, and he had a beautiful woman in his arms. In his bed.
She yawned quietly, and he closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of her hair.
He’d been chasing her without even realizing it for an entire year. He could wait another hour, another day to make love to her.
He could drive to Norfolk this weekend.
As long as she was secure in his arms at the moment, sated by his touch, things were pretty fucking spectacular.
***
Sarah awoke with a start hours later, alone in a strange bed. The dim sunlight was peeking in through the slatted blinds, and for a moment, she didn’t know if it was evening or morning. She sleepily sat up, the navy blue sheets falling down into a rumpled pile around her, her eyes scanning the room.
Ryan’s room.
Clothes folded neatly were stacked in a pile atop his dresser. A closed duffle bag sat on the floor. There were no knick-knacks or magazines scattered about, no dust on the furniture or even a speck of dirt anywhere. The entire room was as neat and orderly as Ryan.
But where was he?
Her eyes fell to her own clothing, neatly folded on top of a wooden dresser. Good God. Had he picked up her things after the floor? She was wearing her pale pink lace bra and not anything else.
Holy crap.
Ryan had given her the most incredible orgasm of her life, his large body hovering over hers, one hand pinning her wrists in place as the other thrust in and out of her pussy. He’d done exactly as he’d pleased with her, commanding her body and sending her to amazing new heights.
She’d never thought she’d be into giving a man complete and utter control over her body, but somehow with Ryan it had felt playful and sexy as hell. He’d jokingly pinned her hands to the bed at first, his muscular frame above hers, but when he’d clasped her wrists above her head, rendering her immobile, she’d freaking loved every second.
Loved the way he’d controlled the situation and wrung every last ounce of pleasure from her body. Loved the way she’d been forced to surrender to his touch—to not think about anything and simply feel.
She swore she could still feel his fingers wrapped around her wrists, which was insane—he’d been in control but gentle enough not to hurt her. The swollen folds of her sex were still slick with her arousal—and good God. If he’d made her come that hard with his hand, what would sex with a man like Ryan be like?
She hadn’t even gotten to see Ryan naked yet, and holy crap, she was dying to strip off his shirt, admire all those big muscles, and unwrap that delicious package. She’d felt his huge erection against her and couldn’t wait to tease him right back, making him beg and groan as she brought him to release.
As she surrendered to him again as he took her in his bed.
She was getting aroused again just from the memory of it all, and then instantly felt guilty.
Hours had passed since she’d left the beach, and she hadn’t spoken once to Rebecca. Or worried about her own brother. She’d been too wrapped up in Ryan to even think of anything else.
She rose from his bed, leaving the sheets tousled, and grabbed one of his PT shirts from the neat pile on the dresser. He must have recently done laundry or something because everything else in the room was put away.
The shirt was huge on her but fell down past her ass, and after all, he’d ruined her one pair of panties.
Jesus Christ.
The memory of his muscular hands ripping her skimpy cotton panties right off was engrained in her mind forever. Shit.
“Ryan?” she called out, walking out of his room.
She’d slept longer than she’d meant to, but it had been a surprisingly stres
sful day. She needed to find out what was going on with Patrick and drive back to Norfolk, because despite the fact that tons of other things were going to hell all around her, she had work in the morning.
Patients.
Responsibilities.
That had to be news about Patrick by now, right? It had been nearly a day since he’d been injured.
“Ryan?” she called again, walking down the hall toward his kitchen.
His framed military certificates and diplomas lined the walls, and there was a neatly folded American flag behind glass. The living room was empty, she’d already checked the bathroom, and unless he’d gone out to his garage, he wasn’t here.
She scanned the spotless kitchen, not seeing a note left anywhere, so she walked back to his bedroom, her eyes roaming around the room to see if she’d missed something.
He wouldn’t just leave, right?
She began to feel uncomfortable, alone in Ryan’s house wearing nothing but his tee shirt, so she pulled her own shirt on, grumbling to herself as she stuffed her torn panties into her hobo bag. Did she go commando under her jeans or steal a pair of his boxers? Ha.
Deciding on the former, she pulled on her skinny jeans. She checked her cell and saw a missed call from Rebecca and text message from Morgan.
“Hey Rebecca. I’m sorry I missed you earlier. Is there any word on Patrick?”
“He’s not waking up from surgery,” Rebecca said, her voice wavering.
“What?” Sarah asked, her heart dropping.
“Yeah. They finished the operation but he’s still in recovery. Has been for hours. For whatever reason, he hasn’t woken up yet. I think the other men are already on their way back. I mean, I don’t know for sure, but I saw something on CNN tonight about the hostage rescue.”
Guilt flooded through Sarah. She should have turned on the damn news earlier. Checked her newsfeed on her phone. Not wandered the beach alone for hours and gone home with Ryan.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
And now she needed to drive back to Norfolk. This entire day felt like a big blur. A nightmare she’d wake up from—sure the part with Ryan kissing and teasing and pleasuring her had been pretty damn spectacular, but she’d forget that in a heartbeat if it meant her brother could’ve been okay.
Damn it.
“All right. I’ll see what I can find out. If I can find Ryan.”
“Did you make it back to Norfolk?” Rebecca asked.
“I got sidetracked,” Sarah said, instantly feeling guilty all over again. “I’ll try to get in touch with Ryan to see if he has any updates on Patrick. Why don’t I call you when I get home?”
“Okay, thanks,” Rebecca said, sounding weary.
Sarah pulled her keys from her purse and walked to the front door of Ryan’s house, only to remember she’d left her car at the beach.
Good Lord.
He’d left her alone at his house with no freaking way to leave? She blew out an irritated sigh and texted Morgan.
Can you give me a lift? I’m near Little Creek.
Morgan texted her back.
What’s going on? Is Patrick okay?
Sarah clenched her jaw.
Long story and no. Ryan ditched me, and I need a ride.
Morgan’s reply flashed across the screen.
Commander Hottie? Text me his address.
Sarah glanced round, realizing she didn’t in fact know his damn address. She knew they were close to base, but she hadn’t paid that close of attention as they’d driven home from the beach earlier. She’d been far too distracted by Ryan hauling her onto his lap as they’d sat near the water. By his scent and sheer maleness filling the SUV as he drove them home.
Those broad shoulders, corded forearms, and muscular hands was all that had been in her line of vision. Not her surroundings. Not anything. Just Ryan.
For all the times she’d claimed he was too military straight for her, she secretly loved his power and strength. His need to control things in the bedroom. To bring her to pleasure.
He seemed to get a thrill out of commanding her body, and hell—if that was the way she responded to his touch, she was 1,000% for it herself.
Or had been, until he’d up and left her.
Morgan pulled up thirty minutes later, and although Sarah had finally tried calling Ryan, she still didn’t know a damn thing. He wasn’t picking up his cell, she didn’t know another number to try.
Whatever.
She had too much to worry about at the moment to wonder why he’d disappeared. She assumed it was some military thing, because hello, he’d up and left on Saturday as well.
It’s not like she could storm Little Creek looking for the man.
“Tell me what happened,” Morgan said as she pulled up.
“It’s a freaking long story,” Sarah said, climbing into her best friend’s car.
“I’d say so. What are you even doing here? You just drove back to Norfolk the other night. Oh my God, did you leave my place on Sunday and head straight to Commander Hottie’s?”
“What?” Sarah asked, looking at her in disbelief. “Of course not! I went home and went to work Monday. Then Rebecca needed me to watch the kids on Monday night because Patrick and the other men were gone and her friend was in labor. So I drove back to Virginia Beach. Then when I was sound asleep on the sofa—in my underwear, I might add—Ryan showed up.”
“Holy crap. He came looking for you?”
“In my dreams. I mean, no, I don’t wish that,” Sarah said, backtracking.
“Sure, sister. Well, go on, don’t leave me hanging. You’re at his house now, so clearly there are plenty of juicy details you’re leaving out.” She turned left and headed onto the main drag of Virginia Beach. “Where’s your car?”
“Oh. 32nd street. Or maybe 23rd,” Sarah said with a shrug.
“Gotcha. At least we have a range,” Morgan said, laughing. “Anyway, spill. He shows up in the middle of the night….”
“He came over to tell Rebecca about Patrick.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah. I don’t know much more than when I texted you earlier. Rebecca said he still hasn’t woken up, but I’m not even sure what that means. He had surgery, so he could just be coming out of anesthesia. And they just flew out a couple days ago. I mean I don’t even know for sure where they deployed to, because they can’t tell us. But throw in jet lag, the adrenaline from whatever mission they were on, stress…I don’t know. I’d probably want to sleep, too,” she said, trying to lighten the seriousness of the situation.
“Doesn’t Ryan know how he is?” Morgan asked, coming to a stop at a red light. “He’s their CO. If anyone can get an update on his condition, it should be him.”
“Oh, I parked right over there,” Sarah said, pointing across the intersection. “The garage near that tall hotel.”
“All right. I’ll drop you off over there.”
“And to answer your question,” Sarah continued, “I don’t think he knows much more than us. Patrick was airlifted to some hospital in Germany.”
“Wow. So you have no idea when he’ll be sent home?”
“No. I mean, I don’t even know how severe his injuries are. Ryan said he had shrapnel wounds, but that could mean different things. Some shrapnel wounds? A lot? I just have no clue.”
Morgan pulled up to the curb, turning on her hazard lights. “Do you want to grab dinner? I know you need to head back, but—”
“No,” Sarah said. “I should head out. It’s been long couple of days.”
“Hey! You still never told me why I was picking you up at Commander Hottie’s house.”
Sarah blew out a sigh. “I’ll fill you in later. The bigger question is why did he leave me alone in his bed?”
“His bed, huh?” Morgan asked, raising her eyebrows. “This must be some good story.”
Sarah laughed, recalling her afternoon with Ryan. Yeah, things had been great until he’d pulled a disappearing act. And she’d remembered the reason he’d shown
up at the door in the first place. Patrick was wounded. The op somehow went wrong. She had a zillion things to worry about that, and Ryan shouldn’t even be on that list of problems. “I’ll fill you in later, okay?”
“All right. And let me know when you find out anything more about Patrick. Bye!” Morgan called out as Sarah shut the door.
Walking to the parking garage, she spotted her mini cruiser parked near the wall, just where she’d left it hours and hours ago. Good Lord, she’d been here all day long. What did they charge for a day’s worth of parking, anyway?
She walked over and unlocked the doors, letting out a deep breath as she sank into the driver’s seat. Despite having slept a few hours, she was exhausted. Emotionally drained. She needed to go home and just crawl into her own bed. Forget about Ryan for a couple of hours. Worry about her brother’s injuries in the morning.
She wanted to curl up and pretend all of it was nothing but a bad dream.
Chapter 14
Ryan clenched his jaw as the secure feed from the Pentagon appeared on the massive screen. The same roomful of admirals and generals he’d had a video conference with the other day were there, dressed in uniform.
“Captain Mitchell,” Admiral Davis said.
“Sir.”
“I understood your men were under fire during the convoy back to airport.”
“Affirmative. Two insurgent’s vehicles were destroyed. It was possibly an attempt to make a statement rather than to disrupt the convoy. The men were in old vehicles with minimal firepower. Didn’t stand a goddamn chance.”
“What’s the condition of the Senator’s daughter? The SITREP indicated she was on the outbound flight back with your team.”
“Yes, Sir. She was in good health. Dehydrated with some minor scratches and abrasions, but she hadn’t been harmed. My men reported that the insurgents had packed some of the vehicles to move out in the morning. The decision to move up the rescue operation may have saved her life.”
“Then I’m damn glad we arrived in time,” Admiral Davis barked, clearing his throat. “The Senator is being escorted by Capitol Police to Andrew’s Air Force base to meet his daughter upon arrival. Your team will fly back to Little Creek after making the drop.”
Loved by a SEAL (Alpha SEALs Book 7) Page 11
