Navy SEAL’s Virgin Lover (15 page)

“Are you sure this is what you want?” he repeated a question he’d voiced before.

She gave him a seductive glance over her shoulder and opened her thighs even more, then let her head rest on her pillow, her bum high up in the air.

He took his swollen cock, and eased the mushroomy tip inside her tender flesh, piercing the space between her buttocks until he disappeared inside.

“Ooooh,” she cried, stirring beneath him.

“If it hurts, I’ll stop,” he promised.

“It-it’s fine. Don’t stop, please.”

He pushed deeper, and closed his eyes as he felt the boiling heat of Erin’s belly enveloping his pulsating cock. She was so tight there it hurt, but he didn’t mind the pain, as it was trumped by pleasure a millionfold more enticing.

He pushed deeper still, and grabbed her hips in a firm grip, rocking her onto his burrowing cock.

“It feels… amazing,” she sighed as she brought a hand to her clit, and started gently pedaling her swollen pink nub.

Erin felt Ram’s big cock deeply buried inside her bowels, moving inside and stirring the unexplored depths of her lower belly. He’d taken her virginity only days before, now he took her anal flower as well. Only Ram, only this man would she ever allow to go this far. And as he picked up the pace and pummeled her behind, she directed a quick prayer that for the rest of her life, he’d be the only man. Never did she want another to take her this way, to take her body and lift it to the highest levels of pleasure and pain like this. Only Ram, please, she pleaded. Only Ram.

He’d clasped her hips firmly with his powerful fingers and speared himself into her over and over again, reaching hidden depths she didn’t even know existed, hidden pleasures that had remained unexplored thus far.

“Oh, God, Ram!” she cried out when he pushed all the way inside, his balls wetly slapping against her soppy cunt. “Oh, yes. Fuck my ass, baby. Fuck my sweet little ass.”

With a grunt of acknowledgment, he slammed even harder into her, burrowing his hot lead all the way up her anal tract until she didn’t know if she was going to come or faint. The pleasure and the pain mingled in a delicious mix and before long she was swept up in a warm wave of intoxication, her climax coming in bursts of electric current until she sagged onto the bed, unable to sustain herself on her trembling limbs.

He pushed down into her, sliding deeper, and placed his head right next to hers, his hot breath ragged and tense, and then he gasped and plunged to the farthest depths, then released a roiling stream of hot cum straight into her belly, emptying his balls completely between her nubile young buttocks, pink and proud, and for the longest time they lay there, a sheen of sweat connecting them.

She drifted into a sweet dream, where Ram and she were walking down the aisle, surrounded by friends and family, rose petals being generously strewn about, her wedding dress a thing of gauzy loveliness and Ram, dapper in suit and tie, grinning like mad.

“I do,” she murmured, and was jerked back to the present when Ram gently eased out of her and draped a sheet across her naked form.

The connection broken, she sighed wistfully. If only they could be like this forever—body to body, making love…

When she opened her eyes again, she was staring down at a kneeling Ram, now only dressed in Bermudas, holding out a small object to her.

“Breakfast in bed,” she murmured happily, her eyes still unfocused, the world shrouded in a diaphanous mist.

“Erin, honey,” softly spoke Ram. “Ever since we met, my life hasn’t been the same.”

“I know. You were tied up, beaten up, left for dead…”

He grinned. “And yet I’ve never been happier in my life.” Then he grew serious again. “Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me. You managed a miracle, honey. You brought me back from the dead as surely as if you personally saved me from the perilous fate I’d chosen. Erin… I know I probably don’t deserve you, but if you would have me, I promise I’ll endeavor to make you as happy as you’ve made me these past few days.”

Only now did she realize that the little object he was holding out wasn’t part of breakfast but a ring box, and an involuntary cry escaped her throat as she sat upright with a jerk.

He slowly opened the box, his sapphire eyes never leaving hers. She dropped her gaze to the object contained within, and was stunned by the sparkle of a diamond-studded gold band blinking back at her.

“Ram, I…”

“Erin Walters, would you marry me?” When she didn’t speak, he quickly added, “Just… think about it. It’s a big decision and—”

She’d slung her hands to her face to stem the flood of tears welling up in her eyes, and interrupted him by capturing his lips with hers, then crying, “Yes! Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!”

He grinned against her mouth. “I take that as a yes, then.”

A million thoughts tumbled through her head, but one thing stood out amongst the welter: Ram loved her, and she’d be his.

She kissed him again, deeply this time, her salty tears wetting their lips, and drew him on top of her. When they came up for breath, she sighed wistfully. She’d prayed for a soulmate and had finally found him in the most unlikely of places.

“Ram?”

He nuzzled against her neck as she checked the look of the rock on her finger. “Mh?”

“Where will we live?”

He kissed the hollow of her throat and she closed her eyes in delight. “Wherever you want, honey. I’m retired, remember?”

And rich, she thought. Money might not buy you happiness, but it did buy you freedom.

“Would you like to go into business with me? Together?”

He looked up then, his attention drawn. “Sure. What did you have in mind?”

She smiled at him, her hand trailing his cheek. The swelling was gone and the bruises lent him the look of a tough guy. “Architecture.”

He grimaced. “I never went, remember? I enlisted instead.”

“So? You can start now.”

He thought about this for a moment. He could get that degree he’d sought after before life had taken him in a completely different direction. “I guess I could.”

“We could start an agency, you and I. Bradley & Walters. Architects.”

“I like the sound of it. Where would we be incorporated?”

Her eyes widened in innocent surprise. “Why, in the States, of course. Where else?”

He nodded slowly, adamant to give her what she wanted—what she needed. “But what about your family?”

She shrugged. “They’ll come visit. Who knows, they might even join us. Mom and Dad always wanted to travel. See the world. Now is their chance.”

He took her hand and pressed a kiss on the stone he’d offered, symbol of their commitment. “All right. Let’s set up shop in The Hamptons. But first I want to meet your family. See if they approve.”

She giggled. “They’ll approve. Trust me.”

So Belgium first, then to the States, she thought, and her heart rejoiced.

She lay back in his arms, her heart filled to overflowing with happiness.

Life, she decided, was pretty damn great.

ABOUT
 
NIC
 
SAINT

Nic Saint is the pen name of husband and wife writing team Nicole and Nick Saint. The Saints have been writing together since 2007, initially focusing on cozy mystery books about cat sleuths and bumbling spies, later funny/scary books for kids and finally settling on what they like best: writing romance.

When they’re not tugging at the heartstrings, they enjoy their daily dose of yoga, a great movie, healthy food or a good book. They live near London with their big, fire engine red cat Tommy, the third and indispensable member of the writing team.

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SAINT
 
BOOKS

Russian Enforcers Series

Russian Enforcer’s Reluctant Bride

Russian Enforcer’s Virgin Captive

Russian Enforcer’s Feisty Lover

Russian Enforcer’s Resistant Rescue

Standalone Novels

The Billionaire’s Valiant Rescue

Navy SEAL’s Virgin Lover

The Pastor’s Jezebel Lover

Billionaire Novelist’s Fiery Debutante

Russian Oligarch’s Tenacious Lover

Novellas

Blast From The Past

Excerpt From:

RUSSIAN ENFORCER’S RELUCTANT BRIDE

CHAPTER ONE

The wind was sweeping across the deserted plain, and Joanna’s hair billowed and swirled around her oval face, her eyes closing against the nippiness in the air. She should have brought her cap, she knew, but had wanted to feel the forces of nature whipping at her unfettered frame.

These days, she didn’t mind the cold so much as the humidity. Strange, how the change in season could seep into your bones and chill you to the core. It seemed only yesterday that a summer’s breeze had wafted along the outstretched meadows surrounding the patch of forest that was her home, and then suddenly winter was upon the land and touched everything with its icy tendrils of frost.

She stared out across the vast space, blinking the tears from her eyes, and thought she’d never felt this pervading sadness as keenly as she did now. Ever since her husband had left, leaving her to fend for herself in a world that was not her own, she’d managed to cope. She was at the end of her rope now. Much further and it would all be over. All hope lost. A life, fleeting as a castle made of sand, would end, and no one would ever know. Or care.

Joanna blinked and wrapped her shawl tighter around herself, planting her feet firmly in the soggy soil. Rain had arrived along with the first cold, and the scent of decaying leaves had mingled with wood stoves being kindled. Darkness set in earlier, the sun stealthily creeping away before the moon’s ascent.

I need to get out of here.

The thought suddenly stood out amongst the welter swirling in her head.

I need to get out of here, or I won’t survive another winter.

But where could she go? This was where she’d lived her whole life. Now only her father remained, her brothers having moved away when Mom died. They all had families of their own now—she really couldn’t impose upon them.

Crouching down, she plucked a lone wildflower, the last remnants of summer lingering. This was how she felt. A single flower surviving against all the odds. She’d lived a sheltered life with Jonathan, safe in the comfort of their home on the edge of Lincoln Forest. Now that he was gone, she found herself alone and pining for the family they’d never had.

Her phone hadn’t rung in weeks, and even when she passed through town to pick up groceries, all her eyes met were curious glances, cursory nods, or brief words murmured in greeting. They all wondered what had induced her husband to up and leave when he did.

Some of the women eyed her with disinterest, others with pity, still others with the guarded look of one fearful of the competition. She was, after all, still in her prime. Five years of marriage had done nothing to diminish her untamed beauty. The flaming red hair, the remarkable emerald eyes, the pointed chin, often raised in mutiny, the pale skin liberally strewn with freckles.

She couldn’t stay here. She couldn’t join her brothers on the other side of the country. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide from the heartache the divorce had brought.

Shivering against the cold and relishing in the sensation of goosebumps appearing on her alabaster skin, she set foot for the cottage that had been her home for the last five years. Her and Jonathan’s. Briefly, they’d been happy there. Now all that was left were the ruins of their union, and even dwelling on the past made her heart shrink.

As she crossed to the forest that lay between the plains and her home, she thought she heard a cry sound in the distance—carried on the wind. At first, she couldn’t be certain whether it was human or animal in nature—or simply the wind itself howling through the trees.

As she neared the forest, she suddenly saw a streak of red passing between two trees to the left. A fleeting impression that barely registered on her retinae. When she instinctively turned to track the movement, a wail rang out, louder this time, distinctly human.

After a moment’s hesitation, she set foot for the source of the cries, curious to see if one of the townsfolk had perhaps landed in a ditch or a child fallen from a tree. Then a cry rent the air, the pitch urgent—desperate.

Picking up her pace, she hurried over to the edge of the forest where the blotch of red had caught her attention. Man or beast, something was in trouble, and she hadn’t the heart to ignore the desperate cry for help.

As she neared the first trees, something whizzed past her ear and she yelped in surprise. Instantly sensing danger, she scrunched down, then made a run for the forest in hopes of finding cover against this unexpected attack. An arrow or a bullet, she could not be sure, but some projectile had been aimed in her direction.

And as she reached the brambles and hurried around to use them for cover, she saw the man, large as life, suddenly looming up before her frightened gaze.

Not ten yards from where she cowered, he stood tall and proud, his penetrating eyes brooking no nonsense, and when they first hit her, she felt their power shooting sparks of electricity through her huddled body. Had he seen her? Had he spotted her? Only now did she see the bow and arrow in his hands, his eyes narrowed and scanning the forest in the falling dusk. His eyes turned away, and she felt a whisper of relief fluttering through her.

On the forest floor before him, a figure lay, dressed in red and partially obscured by the man’s hulking frame. Inadvertently she brought a hand to her face, eyes wide in horror. The figure in red… it was a woman, a tangle of blond streaking out across the red, an arrow’s vane pointing to the sky, her fingers curled around its shaft, soft whimpering sounds escaping her lips.