At Her SEAL's Command (SEALs of Roseville, Book One) (4 page)

“I don’t care,” she said back.

“We’ll take a shower later.”

“Much later.”

“You read my mind.”

Ready to get rid of the remainder of her clothes, she let a sultry smile curve her lips.

The masculine groan that rumbled out of him made her feel powerful and feminine. He jerked her shirt down until the cuffs dangled from her wrists. Stupid buttons. She struggled to get free.

“Stay just like that.”

“But I can’t—”

“Just like that.”

He kissed his way down her chest, stopping to dip his tongue beneath the top of her tank top. Who was she to argue with a man on a mission? Especially when his mission seemed to be getting her pants off.

The aching deep inside grew heavier and a soft, needy sound climbed up her throat.

“Easy. We’ll get there, beautiful.”

Something inside of her melted at his words and she felt herself relax. He thought she was beautiful. If there’d been a mirror overhead, she was sure she’d see the silliest, happiest grin on her face.

He snapped the button on her shorts and tugged the zipper down, all while paying attention to her breasts with his mouth. Since her hands were trapped she let her moans ignite him. Then he pushed her shorts and panties down in one fluid movement, baring her to him.

Her heart thundered. She’d imagined this a thousand times, dreamed of how he'd touch her, what his skin would feel like against hers. His lips trailed down her stomach in hot, open mouthed kisses that heated her through the thin fabric of her tank. He didn't give her any time to feel shy or self-conscious before he delved deeper.

Her breath stalled in her lungs and she kept her shoulders firmly against the wall as he teased her lower lips with his tongue. He moaned against her tender flesh and she'd never been so happy that she'd started getting waxed while she was in Spain.

Every flutter, each flick was amplified, taking her higher so much quicker. She thrust her hips in time with his movements, trying to spread her legs as best she could. His right hand left her hip and spread her folds, leaving her clit open for his sensuous assault.

Eyes squinted shut in concentration, she exploded as the tip of his tongue traced circles around her. Exquisite pleasure filled her from head to toe and the heady sensation made her cry out as her body tensed.

Panting, she wasn't aware of much until Dylan kissed his way up her torso.

“You're delicious.”

Her cheeks heated at his bold words.

She couldn't believe he'd just done that to her, much less...said what he'd said.

“Why are you suddenly shy?”

At his full height again, he studied her, his lips quirked up in a cocky smile.

“You,” was all she could get out.

Your words, that smile, how freaking masterful you are with that wicked tongue.

“What about me?” he asked, his hands moving to the front of his jeans.

She held her breath as he popped the button and dragged the zipper down slowly. Oh hell, he was doing that on purpose. She could tell.

“Hurry,” she breathed.

“In a rush, doll?”

“You have no idea,” she muttered.

She couldn't remember a time when she hadn't wanted Dylan Harper. While the other girls in her homeroom were fawning over the guys on the football team, she'd been scoping out her brother's best friend. While her best friend Latisha had been mooning over movie stars and boy bands and Usher, she'd been trying to figure out how to be alone with Dylan.

He paused, fly agape, black and white checkered boxers showing. His stare was intent, almost as if he was willing her to understand.

“I meant what I said, Reya. I've wanted you for a long time.”

That surprised her even though she’d wanted to believe he's seen her as more than a kid sister. He’d always treated her like she was special and now he was finally making a move. They were stepping outside of the friend zone and she couldn’t wait to feel him inside her, around her.

“How long?” She wished her hands were free so she could touch him. With her hands essentially trapped at her sides, she felt extra exposed.

But the heat in his eyes said she wouldn’t have to wait much longer.

D
ylan watched
the uncertainty war with desire in her eyes. He must have been better at keeping secrets than he'd thought.

“A long, long, long time,” he said, punctuating each word with a kiss to her face.

Eyes, cheeks, chin, and finally, her lips. She moaned and then he heard her hands move, rustling the fabric of the painter’s smock as she strained.

He had to admit, he liked the way she couldn't move her arms too far. At his mercy, she'd been unable to do more than enjoy and vocalize. But they were past that point now and he needed to feel her skin against his, beneath his.

Leaning closing, he trailed kisses down her jaw until he was at her ear. “And now I get to have you.”

A breathy sigh escaped her lips and he slid his palms from her hips upward, flicking his thumbs over her nipples as he went. Despite the scent of paint, he inhaled her sweet honey fragrance. It made him want to lick her all over and see if she tasted as good as she smelled.

“I want to touch you.”

“And as much as I want you to do that, you probably shouldn't,” he said, even as he took mercy on her and released the buttons at her wrists.

“Why?”

“Let's just say I've been without a woman for a while.”

“Really?” She went still.

He pulled back and looked into her dark eyes. “Truly.”

“But—” She didn't finish the thought.

“What'd you think I did on missions? Hit every bar in town?”

She shuddered and he mentally kicked himself. “I honestly try not to think of it.”

“Reya—” he said softly.

“But you're not always away.”

He shrugged, not really wanting or knowing how to explain. And really, that wasn't important right now. What was important was getting naked and showing her how much he needed to be inside her, under her, surrounded by her.

“Enough talking.”

He trailed a finger down between her breasts to soften his words. She nodded and then grinned.

“More kissing,” she said, lifting her lips to his.

He groaned. “Exactly.” He’d always thought they’d be on the same wave length. And he couldn’t get enough of her lips. Now that he’d finally sampled them, he wanted to keep on drinking, tasting, and teasing.

Hooking his thumbs beneath the hem of her tank top, he gathered the fabric and pulled it over her head. Today’s bra was pale blue, sheer with swirls of matching thread. Heaven help him, he wanted to trace the design with his tongue.

But there’d be time for that later.

Slipping his arms around her waist, he backed out of the room. Their tongues tangled as his back met her bedroom door. They worked together to get the knob twisted and the door open. He had the presence of mind to make sure the curtains were closed.

“This ought to be interesting,” she murmured between kisses.

He scooped her up and then laid her gently on the twin bed. “Is it weird?”

Right now he was kicking himself for painting his bedroom. He’d had a double bed growing up but this was his grandmother’s bedroom and the bed was smaller. But at least it was horizontal and he wasn’t at risk of putting his foot in a pan of paint.

“Kiss me and I won’t be thinking about anything else.”

Damn she was good for his ego.

He stood to finish shucking his jeans but smiled down at the gorgeous site. She was glorious and better than he’d imagined. Her skin was a few shades darker than his, her body full of delicious curves that he fully intended to explore.

He toed off his shoes then hooked his thumbs over the top of his jeans and boxers and shoved them down, finally freeing his cock.

Kicking them out of the way, he looked his fill. From years of intensive study, he'd known she was stacked, but looking at her now...with a sexy bra hinting at what lay beneath... That last little bit hidden from his view turned him on even more. He left the garment exactly as it was, preferring to use his imagination for a few minutes longer.

He'd love to see her wrapped up in a black silk ribbon, crisscrossing her body, binding her. But that wasn't going to happen so he pushed the mental picture from his mind as he came down on one knee.

She reached for him and he intercepted her arms.

“I was serious about not touching me,” he said, holding her wrists above her head. “Keep them like this.”

“But—”

“No buts... I promise to let you touch me later.”

“You'd better. You're not the only one who's been fantasizing...”

“But I'm the only one who'll come if you touch me.”

“Wanna bet?”

Her saucy reply made him groan. He stole another kiss.

Holding her wrists with one hand, drinking from her lips, he let his other hand caress. Her skin was smooth and taut, warm and beckoning. He skimmed his fingertips down her sides until she shifted against him. This was better than he'd ever expected; she was so much more responsive than he'd anticipated.

It was almost as if their bodies had a language all their own. He liked that idea.

Sliding his hand across her belly, he trailed the backs of his fingertips down her right thigh. Her legs fell apart instantly, almost begging.

“So wanton,” he whispered against her lips, completely delighted that she wanted his touch so badly.

“Mmm huh.”

“God, Reya... I've dreamed of this for so long,” he said against her neck. “Tell me I'm not dreaming.”

“You're not dreaming.”

“Thank God.”

Pulling his hand north, he settled it at the apex of her thighs. Her mound was completely nude; that'd been a delicious surprise earlier. Though, he'd been trying to figure out why she'd shaved. For herself? Did she like the way it felt? Or was it for another man?

That singular thought had been peppering the back of his mind like a BB gun for the last five minutes. No matter how much he tried to ignore it, it just kept coming back around.

She hadn't said a word about another man. As far as he knew she hadn't gotten any phone calls or gone to meet another guy. But that was all moot; she wasn't the type to carry on with him if she was with someone else. Of that he was sure. Damn sure.

But that didn't mean there couldn't be a guy in her recent past. A Spaniard, perhaps?

“Why'd you stop?” she asked, her voice concerned.

He kissed her cheek. “Sorry.”

“Tell me.”

Trust Reya to want to talk during sex.

“Dylan...”

“I was just wondering why you shave down here.” He traced her slit with his middle finger and smiled as she gasped.

“Actually, it's a wax job. Lasts longer and is much smoother.”

“I like it.” Understatement of the millennium.

“Do you?”

“Oh yeah. Wasn't that obvious?” He’d dined on her like she was his last meal. For as long as he lived, he'd never forget the delicious sounds coming from her throat.

“I just didn't want you to think I was...whatever.”

That brought him up short. “What?”

She shrugged and her breasts heaved. “I've been shaving for years.”

He groaned. He didn't need to know that but now that he knew he was going to have to go back to every fantasy. Rethink every time they'd been together in the past and wonder if she'd been utterly bare beneath her panties.

“So...you did it for you then?” He continued to pet her, relishing the incredible smoothness of her skin.

“Of course. You thought...you thought I did it for a guy?”

It was his turn to shrug, and hate the possessive monster inside of him. He'd been fighting that side of himself for years; the voice that demanded she was his and he needed to claim her.

“I'm not proud of it, but the thought crossed my mind.”

“Jealous much?”

“Insanely. And we're talking too much.”

“I like talking like this.”

“He doesn't.” He rubbed his cock against her hip and she giggled softly.

“He can't talk.”

“Touché.”

She stared at him with an earnest expression and imploring dark eyes. “Can I tell you a secret?”

He wanted to tell her to keep it. He should just kiss her and let them lose themselves in each other. But something in her eyes made him curious.

“You know you can. Always.”

He liked to think that he'd always been there for her, that she could tell him anything. While he'd never thought of her as a little sister, he wanted her to trust him just like she trusted her brother.

“It's always been you.”

It took half a minute for her words to finally click into place, register with his brain.

“Don't say that.”

“Why not?” She tugged her hands free and he let them go. “Because this is just an experiment to you?”

“Hell no,” he barked. “God, no. Reya...”

He cupped her cheek and leaned forward to kiss her. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and he lost himself in her, in the feel of her soft body cushioning his.

Her curves welcomed him as he rolled on top of her. Once again, her body spoke a language that his understood perfectly. She wrapped her legs around his hips and he groaned at how well she fit beneath him. Like the last piece to his puzzle.

He thrust his hips slowly, driving his cock along her wetness. Becoming slicker by the second, he severed the kiss and took a deep breath. With his forehead propped against hers, he held himself in check. But his self-control was thin, like dental floss thin.

“Take me, Dylan.” She spoke the words into his mouth and then sucked on his lower lip. Her nails raked gently across his shoulders and down his back. He held his breath, knowing she'd find his scars if she kept up her crusade.

“Gladly.”

He vaulted off the bed to find the condom in his jeans. He'd bought a brand new box with her in mind, hoping against hope that he'd get to use them. Placing the foil packet between his teeth, he ripped it open.

On the bed, Reya squirmed, her legs closing. She shifted her hips left, giving him a peak at her ass. Then she stretched her arms over her head and closed her hands over the wicker headboard.