Stepbrother UnSEALed (24 page)

“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 burning, 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.

“D
elia! 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.

I wrap my hands around her and lift her up, kissing over the dark, red stamps my teeth left on her neck.

I'm not sure what the fuck I was thinking. The girl went crazy, completely loco on my dick. I matched her with my own mad thrusts, fucked her so hard she'd break. Now, I'm trying to make sure I didn't short-circuit her whole system for real.

“Did I really black out?” she whines, running her hands down my chest.

I laugh and kiss her forehead. It's slick with sweat and bathed in her hormones, some wild, feminine scent I can't ignore. It also makes my dick throb like a greedy motherfucker, and right now I know she needs to rest.

“You scared the shit out of me. I was about to start CPR. Always fantasized about fucking a chick senseless, but it looks like the reality is something else.”

“Well, you were good. It was worth it,” she says, running her tongue gingerly along her lips.

Fuck. If some crazy bastard offered me a million bucks to hang with her like this without getting turned on, I'd lose in about ten seconds flat.

This girl's a natural at getting me hard, bringing out the wild animal inside me. When we're fucking, it's like nothing else in the world matters – especially not the fact that she's my step-lover, and I'm about to leave her behind for the most dangerous mission I've ever dealt with.

“You're talking like it's already over,” I tell her, teasing my lips against hers. “Let's go upstairs and get you some water. Breathe some fresh summer air. We'll pick this up in my room, and this time you're staying with me through the whole damned thing.”

She laughs softly. Fuck, do I love that sound. If I have my way – and I will – it's all I'm gonna be hearing when she's around, nothing but bliss to make up for all the bullshit we've been through on our way here.

I throw on my pants and look for her underwear. I've destroyed one bra strap, completely snapped it in two. She gawks at me, trying to fix it on, holding one arm across her tits.