Teasing Her Seal (Uniformly Hot!)(27)

His head took a right turn down fantasy lane, imagining the photos he could take of her. She’d be luscious, all her secrets on display for him, and he could take her out and look at her when they had an ocean between them once again. He’d have to convince her to give it a shot.

“I wouldn’t share the photos,” he said, his voice sounding hoarse, even to his own ears. “They’d be mine.”

“Uh-huh. Now that you have me where you want me, what are you going to do with me?”

“Sweetheart, you’re going to have to wait and see.”

Her eyes narrowed as she shifted on the bed. “Seeing is fine. It’s the waiting part I didn’t sign up for.”

“This is my night. I get to give the orders. Plus, you’re not in any position to protest, are you?”

She tugged on her wrists, but he’d learned to tie knots with the US Navy. She wasn’t going anywhere without his say-so.

“I enjoy looking at you,” he added huskily. “So I plan to take my sweet time.”

Touching her was his priority, though, so he stripped off his clothes swiftly. He wasn’t strip-show material, but she watched him with hungry eyes and damned if he didn’t feel like the king of the world. He undid her hair from its ponytail, sifting the silky strands around her bare shoulders.

Fucking gorgeous.

That was what she was.



OH, GOD. SHE’D never been so intensely aware of her body. Or her nakedness. Her knees pressed into his pillow, her fingers curled around the bedposts. Instead of feeling silly or wondering if she was doing this okay, however, she felt powerful. She could hear the harsh rasp of his breathing behind her. Seeing her like this turned him on. It turned her on, too.

He’d shocked her.

Aroused her.

And now he was actually doing it. Holy hell.

“I’m not into kinky stuff. No spanking,” she added quickly, because hello, pot. She clearly liked some kinky stuff just fine. Pain, however, wasn’t on her to-do list for tonight. Tonight she was all about the pleasure.

“Duly noted.”

He ran his hand down her spine and over her butt, as if he was thinking about what to do next. She shivered in anticipation. She had a few thoughts of her own. “You could get naked, too, just to even things up.”

“Shhh.” He tapped the inside of her thigh. “Wider.”

She didn’t hesitate. She trusted him. She loved how he made her feel, how she could be open with him in a way she’d never been before. And she hadn’t known that taking orders while tied up would make her feel so...powerful. Carefully, she slid her legs farther apart, drinking in the rough sound of pleasure he made.

He slid beneath her in a move too complex for her to figure out, possibly because her brain had short-circuited sometime between his tethering her to his bed and his getting naked. She blamed any lack of thinking on him. She only had a moment to appreciate the eroticism of his position, because he was shoving her panties to one side.

“No tearing,” he promised gruffly, and all she could do was moan. Because really? Her preserve-my-panties stance wasn’t her top priority anymore. He exhaled and she felt that, too, and jerked, but the ties binding her to the bed held her in place.

And then she really stopped thinking. He swiped his tongue from the bottom of her slit to the top in one hot, luscious stroke.

“Hold on,” he ordered and she did, fingers grabbing onto the headboard. There was nothing dignified about this, but she didn’t have a choice, did she? All she could do was feel.

And boy, did he make her feel.

He spread her wider, licking and tonguing her slick folds. His tongue traced a wicked path, traveling up then back down again. Over and over as if he had all the time in the world, while she chanted a silent more, more, more and oh, yes, please. God, he was good. Or bad. She lost herself in the sweet bliss, letting him push her relentlessly toward the orgasm of the century.

When he found her clit, he wrung a new cry from her. She had no control, and he had it all, but she didn’t feel powerless, didn’t enjoy what he was doing to her any less because he was doing it for her.

“Gray—” She gasped his name, but she had no idea what came next. He did, though. He kissed her again and she trembled, reaching, trying to fall over the edge and succumb to the pleasure.

“Relax,” he said. “I’ve got you.”

He braced her thighs with his hands, anchoring her. With him, she wouldn’t fall. It was hard to let go, harder not to. He licked and kissed, suckled her clit, and she surrendered. Sensation took over and she rocked against him, searching for more because she wanted everything this man would give her. And then she spasmed, her whole body clenching and holding on to him as she fell over the edge into that dark abyss of pleasure.

When she finally remembered where she was and her heart stopped pounding in her ears, he’d moved behind her.

“We’re not done yet,” he said, spreading her trembling thighs wider, and she closed her eyes in anticipation. The wet ache started up again, her body responding easily to his commands as he angled her forward, easing between her legs and parting her with his fingers.

He notched himself at her opening and pushed in. And then in some more. She inhaled sharply at the fullness. Still sensitive from the orgasm he’d just given her, she felt each thick, fantastic inch filling up her body.

“Slow or hard?” he gritted out, and all she could think was now and more.

“Hard.” He’d already tortured her enough.

“You got it.” He drove into her, stopping only when he was buried deep inside her, the tip of his cock bumping against her cervix. Then he pulled back, coming out of her only to drive inward again, finding a rhythm that drove her crazy. She waited for each thrust, soaring higher and higher with each new stroke. Heat filled her as she surrendered to the crazy-hard rhythm of sex, the bed squeaking and groaning as he slammed into her, and she arched back to take him harder, deeper, more.

“Now.” He reached between them, pinching her clit.

“Wait.” She didn’t want to lose this sensation, the near-mindless bliss as they took each other.

“Yes,” he hissed. He drove into her again, nipping at the curve of her throat and she lost it, coming again, clenching around him and holding him tight. Like her pleasure was the permission slip he’d needed, he hammered into her hard, coming with her as he whispered her name over and over as if it was his passport to someplace special he couldn’t wait to be.





12

HE DIDN’T WANT to untie her. He did it, anyway, because Laney trusted him and leaving her bound to the bed, while fun for him, would probably scare the crap out of her until she figured out the hitch knots came undone easily. The pretty pink ties were silky smooth, the material running through his fingers like water. And that was part of the game, wasn’t it? She could slip away from him just as easily.

“You okay?” He rubbed a thumb over her wrists. The ties had left faint marks. He pressed his lips against her pinkened skin. The gesture wasn’t smooth, and he was definitely tipping his hand, but he did it, anyhow. As strong as she was, the bones of her wrist felt delicate, pale blue veins visible beneath the skin.

“I thought you weren’t a fan of the post-mortem,” she murmured sleepily. He’d worn her out, or maybe that was the multiple orgasms. Leaping on top of the covers and beating his chest seemed too caveman-like, so he settled for tucking the ties away in the pants he swiped from the floor. Souvenir. Something to remember her by when she’d left the island and he’d completed his mission here. She’d go home—and he’d go find himself a new battlefield.

“You were beautiful,” he whispered roughly.

“That was one hell of a fantasy, and you’re amazing.” She shifted, burrowing in and getting comfortable. He was losing her to the bed. “When can we do it again?”

His dick voted for now as she settled her butt against his front and inched closer. But she hadn’t been talking about the sex being amazing. At least he didn’t think so. She’d said he was amazing. It made him feel good, better than good, but it also meant it was time to retreat. Things were getting too personal between them. Making Laney’s sexual fantasies come true was great, but he couldn’t give her anything else. He was all body, no heart. And she deserved more. He didn’t know how to love someone—let alone say I love you or commit to any future more than a week out. All of which meant he needed to pull back, put some space between them and act like a Boy Scout—hands off.

His libido—and possibly a different organ higher up—protested.

“Gray?” Her sleepy voice was half-muffled by the pillow she’d buried her face in.

“Yeah?” He reached over to switch off the light. He’d like to make love to her in the daylight, watch her face as she came. Then he could watch all the little expressions on her face, see the pucker she got on her forehead as she concentrated on his touch and the way she bit her lower lip. They hadn’t done daylight sex. Somehow fantasies seemed like midnight material. “I’m right here.”

“Hold me?” She didn’t wait for his agreement. Instead, she rolled over and flopped onto his chest, her fingers tangling in his dog tags as she planted her head over his heart.