Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
EPILOGUE
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
SEAL’s Plaything
~A Secret Baby Military Romance~
© 2017
By Cassandra Dee
Want to hear about my newest illicit romance? Addicted to virgins and alpha males? Join my mailing list at http://eepurl.com/cgt2DD and get a FREE BOOK unavailable elsewhere!
© 2017 Cassandra Dee
All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the author's imagination.
Please note that this work is intended only for adults over the age of 18 and all characters are represented as 18 or over.
Kindle Edition
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ALSO BY CASSANDRA DEE
Standalones
The Billionaire’s Kitten
Beg Me: Sold To My Dad’s Boss
Daddy’s Pretty Baby
Loving the Babysitter
Temptation: Loving My Ward
The Billionaires Club
Sold at the Auction
Virgin for Sale
Serving Him
Buy Me
Anonymous Encounters
MMF Romance
Double Dare
Double Exposure
The Falling Series
Falling for My Dad’s Best Friend
Falling for My Boyfriend’s Dad
Falling for My Son’s Best Friend
The Virgin Series
The Naughty Virgin
The Wicked Virgin
The Dirty Virgin
The Trashy Virgin
Delivering the Virgin
The Double Series
Double Princes
Triple Princes
Double Massive
Double Huge
Double Bang
Double Donkey
DEDICATION
For all the dirty girls who love wild rides.
This book is just for you!
ABOUT THIS BOOK
SEAL’s Plaything: A Secret Baby Military Romance
He wants to use my body.
Mason Jones is the hottest SEAL I’ve ever seen. But he’s not into anything serious.
And in exchange for a wild night tearing up the sheets, I agree to keep it casual.
So I let him call me Pussycat.
Sweet thing.
Pretty baby.
Because it doesn’t matter, right? It’s just no strings hook-up.
But the problem is that I keep coming back for more.
I keep begging the SEAL.
Worshipping him.
Panting and pleading.
On my knees and bent over every which way.
Because I desperately want Mason …
But what if he doesn’t want me back?
What if I’m just the SEAL’s plaything?
NOTE FROM CASSIE
Hi! Thanks so much for reading SEAL’s Plaything: A Secret Baby Military Romance. I hope you enjoy the steam between Sara and her alpha SEAL.
In this edition, I’ve included a new, just-for-you bonus tale called The Curvy Girl Pleasures Two Men. It’s a paranormal MMF story, so get ready for the heat to skyrocket between Kim and her two male lovers.
Happy reading!
Love,
Cassie
TABLE OF CONTENTS
SEAL’s Plaything
ABOUT THIS BOOK
NOTE FROM CASSIE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
EPILOGUE
SEAL’s Plaything Deleted Scene
Loving the Babysitter
The Wicked Virgin
The Naughty Virgin
Delivering the Virgin
The Trashy Virgin
The Dirty Virgin
Beg Me
~NEW~ For a limited time!
The Curvy Girl Pleasures Two Men
A SNEAK PEEK
MORE BY CASSANDRA DEE
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
CHAPTER ONE
Sara
Oh no.
I stood on the edge of the pool in a red swimsuit, wishing the concrete would open up and swallow me. The suit, now more of a faded pink than red, was way too tight. My mom only bought me the plain one-piece because she was convinced that I needed to get my nose out of my books and my butt in the water.
“Live a little!” Phoebe begged. “Get out there and meet some nice boys!”
I’d refused to look up, cheeks flushing. Because the truth is there were no boys interested in me. I was more of a wallflower, the invisible girl who faded into the background.
But Phoebe didn’t know that. Even though we didn’t have much, my mom wanted me to get out there and make lots of friends, so she’d bought me a red swimsuit like the ones from Baywatch. But the problem was that even if the suit looked like the ones on TV, I don’t look like the actresses wearing them. I’m plush and round everywhere, more of a curvy girl than a hard body. So as you can imagine, the outfit looked completely different in real life.
But usually it’s okay. I like being luscious, I’ve never thought that skinny string beans with gristly muscles looked good, but hey, to each their own. Except today. Today I was lined up, toes touching the edge of the water, looking at the Olympic-sized pool below, feeling horribly out of place. The water was beautiful, rippling and blue, but also slightly threatening. Because could I handle it? Would I survive? We were doing the school swim test, and everyone else seemed comfortable and at ease. I, on the other hand, just prayed not to drown.
“Squeee!” shrieked the whistle. Jolted, I looked around wildly, staring at the other girls. What did that mean? But the instructor watching us just smirked.
“Ready?” she belted. “Two laps ladies, over and back. It’ll be over before you know it!”
My heart sank. Because the thing is, I’m not very good at swimming, and two laps is a lot. It’s not that I couldn’t do the two laps, it’s more that I’d swim them in a messy doggy paddle, flailing this way and that, kicking like a mofo. But no one said you had to be an Olympic swimmer with perfect strokes, so doggy paddle it was.
And then came more blasts.
“Squeeeee!” went the whistle. “Squeee! Squeee!”
At that, the other girls dived into the pool, slick as seals, while I watched, toes still curled over the edge of the cement. Oh god, oh god! They were already going strong and I was still stuck here like a lump on the hot concrete. This would never do.
So taking a deep breath and squeezing my eyes shut, I jumped in. No dive, god no. I can’t dive worth salt, and jumping in was fine, thank you very much. As I pushed off the edge, gamely I began trying to stroke. Right arm forwards, then left. Then right. Oh wait, and there was kicking too, I had to kick! Left foot kick and then right. And then left. I gasped, panting and flailing, hoping I didn’t look too stupid.
But the stress and anxiety got to me because I’m not an expert swimmer even on a good day, and this afternoon was worse than usual. My vision filled with blue and white shapes, bubbles that seemed about a mile high, and suddenly the water was everywhere. It weighed me down, panic rising in my brain and I began choking and splashing like mad.
Doggy paddle! Screamed my mind. Pretend you’re a golden retriever enjoying a dip in the pool on a hot summer day! No big deal! Doggy paddle girl, doggy paddle!
But I couldn’t control my rising panic. The water was everywhere, pressing down on my head, making my limbs feel heavy and I thrashed more, trying to push the waves away. But it did no good and suddenly, I began to sink, to drop deeper and deeper into the depths, the silence forming a seal over my head.
Oh god, I never thought I’d die here in the school pool. I always thought I’d go peacefully when I was seventy or so, but instead, here I was at age eighteen, about to give up the ghost during a school swim test. It was humiliating, but when you’re on your last legs, you don’t care anymore. A wave of peacefulness washed over my frame, my mind curiously light as I gave in. Good-bye Mom, came the words to my head. I love you.
But suddenly a crash sounded and I was propelled upwards, almost bursting from the water in a huge spray. Reflexively, my body jerked, coughing and hacking, trying to survive while clinging to my savior.
Because a man had rescued me, and he held me tight now, mouth in a grim line as he dragged us both over to the pool’s edge. Unable to focus, I clung to that muscular chest, desperately heaving and coughing.
“Aacch,” I snorted, water coming out of my nose and mouth. “Aacch, aach,” I hacked again, boobs heaving.
Okay, not the cutest way to make an entrance, but then again, what did it matter? I’d literally seen the light at the end of the tunnel, thinking it was my last moment on earth.
And a heavy hand came down, clapping me on the back, helping me roll over so that I was on my side. More water spewed from my mouth as I hacked and coughed violently, big boobs spread on the concrete, my rump high and bare for all to see.
Because the damn suit had come off. During the flailing and thrashing, the cheap material had literally slipped off my breasts, and now here I was, creamy flesh spread out for all to see. Oh god, oh god, I had to cover myself, I had to pull the nylon back in place but I couldn’t, I was too busy hacking and coughing spastically, unable to do anything but vomit water.
But my rescuer took pity. Those big hands moved swiftly, and while it was just us, he pulled the swimsuit back in place, covering up my huge tits, making sure my pussy didn’t show.
“Piece of work, ain’t ya?” a growl came. “A real piece of work.”
I glared up at him, still hacking and coughing. Did he think I couldn’t hear? How dare he call me a piece of work! It’s not liked I’d drowned on purpose. And why would I do that anyways? Did he think this was fun for me, that I’d subjected myself to this swim test on a lark?
But my mind stopped then, screeching to a halt. Because I’d felt that male body against me earlier, while my savior dragged me out of the pool. But I hadn’t really looked at him, too busy coughing my guts out. And now that my spasms were dying down, now that I was definitely going to stay alive, my eyes took in the lifeguard before me and widened appreciatively.
Because the man was absolutely gorgeous. Built like a god, a huge, broad chest narrowed into a vee, showcasing developed pecs and a defined six pack. Plus he had strong arms and thick, powerful th
ighs, making him prime lifeguard material.
But it wasn’t just his chest and abs that did it for me. It was the rock hard length that curved under the board shorts. Because he wore regulation lifeguard gear, a pair of swim trunks that weren’t overly tight, but they couldn’t even begin to hide what lay beneath. There was a giant ridge underneath the fabric, running along the length of one massive thigh, and I gasped, eyes going wide involuntarily. His swimsuit had come loose during our ordeal as well, and what I saw made the air disappear from my lungs, chest going tight.
It was his dicktip. That’s right, his cock was so huge and hung that the tip literally dangled from the opening of one pant leg, glans a deep purple, shiny and helmet-like. Staring like a wild woman, I could even see his hole, that tiny little opening that beckoned, making me want to press my tongue inside.
Unable to speak, my gaze flew up at the man, and immediately, the air whooshed from my lungs again, making it impossible to breathe. Because he was so gorgeous, so devastatingly handsome that my heart skipped a beat. Black hair and piercing blue eyes looked back at me, amused, that mobile mouth curving into a knowing smile.
“Sorry ‘bout that,” my savior ground out. “Didn’t mean to shock you, it was an emergency and all.”
And with that, big fingers adjusted his board shorts so that his dick no longer showed.
“We don’t get a choice in uniforms, and this was the longest they had,” he shrugged, eyes still gleaming at me. “I figure you can put up with it, I just saved your life after all.”
Panting and heaving, lying on the ground, I struggled to sit up, curves still blatantly obvious in the too-tight suit.
“Thanks,” was all I could manage in a strangled voice. “Thanks,” I croaked again.
Oh my god! My brain screamed. You just saw his cock and that’s all you can say? He just saw your pussy and creamy tits, and that’s all you can say? Oh my god, oh my god!
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