by Nicole Snow
Pre-come drenches my dick by the time I pull my face off her. Mere seconds before I feel her fingers grip my shaft, no sooner than I've got her flat on her back, legs wrapped around me.
“Please,” she whispers, her eyes as big as marbles in the phantom light.
“No, moscato. Try again. Another word.” I shove her hand away by the wrist. Hot and hungry as her little fingers are, they're not stroking off what belongs to her pussy.
“Grant. Hubby. Sir.” She bites her lip by the lower corner on the last word, her brow furrowed, knowing she's found it.
Her reward comes with my full length poised between her swollen pussy lips, a simple thrust away from quenching our thirst. “Once more.”
“Sir. Sir, please.” Sweat beads on her body. I shove the partition in the curtain around the bed open, letting in the cool Atlantic breeze before we ignite our sheets. My hand also finds the bottle of wine I've had strategically stored on the rocks under us. “God, you're so bad. I can't stand being teased.”
“Lies. You're hot when you beg, Bekah. Cool yourself on this sweetness before I make you feel it.” I pop the cork with my thumb and hold the wine bottle to her lips. She wraps her mouth around it like a good girl, diving lower than she should, thinking I'll be in her faster if she teases me back, making me think about those lips on my cock.
Well, fuck, she could be right.
I hold the bottle up and take a swig, but only after I've spilled a neat trail down her cleavage. She hisses through clenched teeth when the lush red flows against her skin.
It's an easy target for my tongue. I kiss my mess away, enjoying the fusion of her natural sweetness with the wine, before I suck her nipples into my mouth.
No fine wine will ever compare to this. I watch her head roll back and hear the soft whine escaping her mouth. My hips roll forward, grinding my cock harder into her wetness, tasting my woman at her very best.
There's so much to drink in.
Desire.
Belonging.
Yes, I even taste her fucking heartbeat through her tender, steaming flesh.
It amuses my tongue, frantic for our first coupling as husband and wife. I can't handle it for long before the mad need to be inside her wins out.
“Love you, sweet woman. More than you'll ever understand.” I whisper the last coherent sentence I'm able to form before I pull my hips back, aligning my hardness perfectly, and then push into her slick, tight wonder.
Fuck, she's incredible. I've had this pussy over and over again, yet it never stops reminding me it has this scary ability to pick me up by the balls, drain my sanity, and drop me straight into berserker rut.
Her body takes mine as smooth and easy as my tongue had the wine. My fingers push through hers as I deepen my thrusts, watching her eyelids flutter, knowing it won't be long before she gives it up.
“Come for me, moscato. Show me how much harder my wife comes on my cock. Give sir every damned bit of your married pussy.” I'm thundering the words through clenched teeth, struck by every pleasure bolt attacking my brain the longer I thrust.
“Sir, yes, yes,” she whimpers. “For you.”
I tighten my hold on her fingers, pinning her hands into the mattress over her head, and lower my face to hers. My hips move faster as my forehead presses to hers, eyeball to eyeball, prisoners to our lust.
“Count, moscato. Say it with me. Say it or I'll pull the fuck out and walk away.”
It's a cruel lie, but the horror in her eyes tells me it does the trick. “Yes, yes, please!”
“Yes, you fucking come for me. Come so hard your sweet married pussy sucks off every inch of me. You want your husband's come deep inside you, yeah?”
“Yes!” she moans louder, that familiar oh-fuck-yes spark beaming in her eyes. “Please, please, please. Yes, sir, yes!”
“Yes!” I growl back.
We scream it together a few more times before she jerks beneath me. Her little cunt tenses around my cock, and the gold plated bead hooked to my tip does its job, hitting the spot inside her that makes her entire body convulse.
“Fuck, fuck, yes!”
Yes!
We're screaming in unison, finding our release together.
Normally, I'm good as hell for a few rounds before I give it up. But I'd have an easier time stopping Luke's jet from taking off at full speed than blunting the fierce pleasure throbbing at the base of my cock.
It explodes up, and straight through me, a full body wild fire. Muscles I didn't know I had bow and flex. I slam my cock into her, pushing my heavy balls against her ass, letting go of the hot, thick ropes hurling out of me. My eyes roll back and I –
Oh, fuck. I give up my soul, the secret part of the wedding ceremony nobody tells you about. Nobody says what starts with a ring ends in bed, sealed in blood, sweat, and flesh.
I'm still coming when I smother her open lips with mine. She squeals into my mouth, and I swallow everything she gives me, digging my teeth into her bottom lip.
It's harder than I intend. I taste the faintest metallic blood when my senses return and I'm pulling away. I'm worried I've hurt her in my frenzy, but the satisfied glow on her face tells me how wrong I am.
“I love you so much,” she whispers, just as I pull out, flop down next to her, and bring her into my arms.
It's everything I wanted for tonight, and more. It's raw, it's rough, and yes, it's fucking real. As authentic and messy as our love was, and just how I hope it'll always be, minus the crazy assholes trying to rip us apart.
It's perfectly savage. Savagely perfect. Just like good love should be.
Best of all, it's just beginning. When I whisper my next words and cup her cheek, bringing her insatiable lips to mine once more, my cock is hard against her thigh.
“Love you more than forever itself. Because I can't figure out where it ends and we begin. Not anymore, and that's how it'll stay.”
When we wake up late in the afternoon the next day, it's noticeably cooler.
There's a soft summer rain breaking up overhead, the last of the dense grey clouds glowing out at sea. I follow her footprints in the sand down to the tiny old dock at the edge of my property. She's there in a plush white robe, sipping on a cup of coffee, more in the glass carafe next to her. Probably a gift from the servant I told to check up on us around noon.
“I slept through breakfast, and you slept through lunch,” she says with a smile. I take my seat next to her, throwing a possessive arm around her shoulder.
“My stomach isn't growling yet. I'm plenty hungry for something else, beautiful.” I pull not-so-subtly on my robe, revealing the outline of the hard-on I woke up with.
“I think I'll black out if we do it again without a sandwich or something!” She laughs, pushing me away. “My blood sugar can't handle this much sex.”
Love makes her a lucky woman. I'll give my dick a break from our seventh round for the next few hours.
“Let's go. There's a fridge stocked with good food we should make a dent in before our flight to Reykjavik tomorrow.”
“My hero,” she smiles, and gives me a peck. Tease. At least I had plenty of warning, knowing what I was marrying into. “I'm seriously excited. Haven't been on a real vacation that didn't involve work in years. Plus I'll probably be in Colombia next. It's nice to see a side of the world that doesn't leave us drowning in our own sweat.”
“If there's a room and a bed, Bekah, you'll still be soaked if you're with me.”
She sees my grin and elbows me. “God, you're relentless. Love makes weird choices, doesn't it?”
I don't disagree. I've almost stopped pondering how I wound up hitched to a feisty young honey more than ten years younger than me. Knowing she's mine is enough, and it makes me happy.
I walk her back to the house, arm in arm. She sits by the big bay window in the kitchen as the sun slowly materializes. My boy, Jack, jumps on the counter, watching me make double decker pastrami sandwiches with ham and fancy cheeses.
The cat
steals a slice of meat before I shoo him down. I let the little ankle biter have his way since it's our wedding, after all.
I take the chair next to her. We tuck into our sandwiches, hungrier than I thought.
The afternoon snack was a good idea. I'll be ready to carry her to bed and tie her there until whatever the hell time our plane leaves tomorrow.
“We missed our first sunrise as newlyweds,” she says, finishing her food, a pout tugging at her lips. “Kinda disappointing.”
“There'll be another, moscato. No despair allowed.” I grab her hand, and we both look out the window again.
As if on cue, the lovely start of a long Maine sunset bleeds through the broken clouds. It's a bright orange preview of Iceland, the mornings and evenings sure to light up the windswept mountains, an earth song to love itself.
For the first time in forever, this crazy thing doesn't feel rushed. We've got time to love.
New heat reddens her cheeks when I lift her hand to my lips, laying down a kiss on her skin. The look she gives me says she's about ready to see to that other hunger with her belly fed.
But before I haul her sweet ass upstairs, I take the fresh wine I haven't touched, gently lifting my glass. I wait for her to join me. “To another sunrise, moscato. We'll have a new one tomorrow, when we're sore, sated, and ready for take off. Then we'll have twenty thousand more. We do our job, we keep this love alive, and we'll have them forever.”
“Forever,” she echoes. I swear the passion brimming in her eyes is hotter and more heartfelt than ever.
We drain our wine, and then I pick her up with a smile, throw her over my shoulder, and carry her upstairs.
I'm new to this husband gig, but I'm catching on. Easy when I love it as much as I do.
I dwell on how lucky I am until our robes are off, and we sink down into the huge antique bed where I claimed my beautiful wife for the very first time.
Then, I show her how long and amazing forever can be.
Hope you enjoyed Grant and Bekah's story! Read on for another novel included with this edition, Stepbrother UnSEALed.
Stepbrother UnSEALed
A Bad Boy Military Romance
Content copyright © Nicole Snow. All rights reserved.
Published in the United States of America.
First published in August, 2015.
Disclaimer: The following ebook is a work of fiction. Any resemblance characters in this story may have to real people is only coincidental.
Please respect this author's hard work! No section of this book may be reproduced or copied without permission. Exception for brief quotations used in reviews or promotions. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. Thanks!
Cover Design – Kevin McGrath - Kevin Does Art. Photo by Allan Spiers Photography.
Description
MY HERO, MY RUIN, MY RECKLESS TEMPTATION...
DELIA
I almost landed in my stepbrother's bed, and I want it to happen again.
I'm too good for him. He's too crude for me. Fantasy is where this twisted thing should end.
Chris Cleveland tempts me because he's wrong. Swoon-worthy, all-American Navy SEAL. Bad boy. Manwhore.
I didn't know he was off limits the night we got hot and heavy. I didn't know our folks were hitched.
Hell, I definitely didn't know I could ever want what I'm not supposed to have this badly, and one more smirk of his devilish lips just might bring me to my knees...
There's a lot I don't know anymore.
And he's about to teach me.
CHRIS
Love's a goddamned joke. I bed women between missions and rock their worlds with military precision. I never taste, touch, or tease the same chick twice.
Get in, get out, and leave her a breathless mess always worked flawlessly – until Cordelia.
I can't pry my perfect new stepsister out of my skull. I've never wanted to corrupt a girl so bad. She's my new target, my conquest, my obsession.
Lucky I'm a SEAL. Losing isn't in my blood.
But Delia's already lost, and her panties are about to be in flames.
1
Bastards and Beach Bums (Delia)
“Holy shit! Do you see the meat on that boy?” My best friend Marnie's high, whiny voice cuts through the beach party's racket.
She's so loud and desperate I expect the gorilla in the speedo she's been eye-fucking for the last ten minutes to skip fetching our drinks and drag her behind the rocks for some alone time. It won't take much for him to throw her over his shoulder and carry her off – exactly what the excitement lining her face says she wants.
“Delia, did you see –“
“I saw,” I say, draining the last dregs of my water bottle. “Believe me, I couldn't miss him. He's like the oldest dude here.”
Her smile quirks. “Oh, come on. You're never jealous. Don't tell me you're pissed that I poached him first with a little flirting? We'll be down to geeks and dad bods by the time you make a move.”
Laughing, she shakes her hips, causing her beauty queen body to bounce. I don't know how she tolerates those skimpy, skin-tight bikinis. Not that one wouldn't feel awfully nice right now in the California sun.
“It's okay, Marnie. Really. He's a good pick. Not really my style, you know.”
It's not just the overgrown body builder with the tangerine skin I'm talking about.
I stare down at my tank top and shorts. I've probably got the most conservative beachwear here – same as always. Sometimes, I think everybody else enjoys these parties on dad's private stretch of beach way more than I do.
Sometimes? Okay, make that all the time.
She throws her head back and laughs louder, slapping me on the shoulder. “Oh, girl. Just what the hell is your style, anyway?”
I shrug, and she leans in closer. “Kyle told me you two never fucked. Jesus, lady, you're about to start your senior year and you're still a virgin. Don't tell me you're going to be the only one in our circle to walk off campus with a fancy degree in hand and your cherry intact.”
I wrinkle my nose. Marnie acts like a crazed lioness when she gets a few drinks in her, and I make a mental note to slip away once she's had a few more, maybe got her arms around her latest hottie.
“I'm going to get you laid, you know. I've made it my personal mission.” She wags her finger at me and flips her blonde hair with the pink highlights back. “I know you brought a bikini. Go slip into it, show off your sexy, and maybe I'll ask big boy if he's got a friend when I'm done with him.”
The smile she's wearing makes her look like a shark. Shaking my head, I fold my arms, one more reminder that I'm overdressed, even though I feel like I'm half-naked out here.
“Jesus, no. I told you, I'm just here to get some sun and a nice buzz. Oh, and remind me to flip Kyle the bird next semester for talking about crap he really shouldn't.”
Trouble is, the idiot I'd broken up with a month ago was supposed to be the one. We lasted a few months, longer than my other boyfriends, and I'd actually been getting a little impatient about jumping his bones. He'd been the first man in awhile I could imagine going to bed with – until the day he sat me down and came out with the nasty, kinky stuff he wanted me to do.
I'm no stranger to weird, overpowering sex. I crave it. Heck, I've read all about it in those books about billionaires with dirty mouths and a love for handcuffs and spankings.
All the crap Kyle wanted? Picture the opposite.
I wasn't ready to tie him up and slap him across the face while he called me mama. Not in this lifetime. Not with anyone.
Seriously, why the hell is it so hard to find a normal man with a body like an Adonis on campus? Do the guys with an alpha bone in their bodies still exist outside romance novels?
“Aw, c'mon,” Marnie whined. “We need to do lunch so you can dish right back. I'm sure it wasn't all one-sided, and I'd love to hear what the little rat was really up to.”
I open my mouth to try to change the subject, and
then I see Mr. Tangerine coming back, two martinis and a beer in his hands. Thank God.
“Here you go, ladies,” he says, pushing one martini into my hand and flashing me a wink.
Ugh. Some of these beach bums have the balls to try for two girls at once, and there's no way I'm falling for it. I nod, then turn my attention to Marnie as she gives me the look, as if to say watch this.
“Damn, what kinda beer is that?” she asks, closing the tiny distance between her and Tangerine Man, a quick, jerky movement that causes her to crash her martini glass rim right into his thick chest. “Oh, shit! I'm so sorry.”
Every bone in my body wants me to roll my eyes. The beach bum laughs, wipes the booze off his pecs, and then pulls her into him.
“You know I'm gonna make you lick that off, right?” He growls it softly into her ear, but it's loud enough for me to overhear.
Marnie practically loses her panties on the spot. I turn away in disgust, sipping my drink, praying the strong alcohol beneath the fruity sweetness will help me forget the train wreck I'm seeing.
Who the hell invited him anyway? I wonder. He's too old to be a student, unless he's like a grad student in fitness or something.
Marnie's a way bigger social butterfly than I am. Every time I get dad to open up the beach and fire up the bar for our private fun, my friend tells me it'll just be a few people, no more than a couple dozen. My eyes scan the crowd. I estimate there are way more than a hundred here, sorority boys and bleached out bimbos I've never even sat in a lecture with.
“Hey, Delia! Seriously, thanks again for letting us play on papa's property again. If anybody leaves their shit behind, come to me. I'll kick their ass.” Marnie reaches for my hand and gives it a firm squeeze.
“Yeah, me too,” Tangerine Man says lazily, not even pulling his eyes off her ass.
