Page 44 of Boomer (SEAL Team Tier 1, #7)

Taylor rested in Boomer’s unshakable hold, both of them breathing rapidly, his face buried in her neck.

The shudders within her seemed to go on and on, the pleasure he’d given her as sizzling as the echo of what had been left behind.

He was a solid wall of hard-packed muscle, his cock thick and pulsing inside her, his lower body powerful and heavy against her belly and hips, where he fitted to her like they were two halves of one whole.

She clutched at him, her palms pressing against his muscled shoulders, over his hot, smooth, rock-hard biceps, the bulging muscles making her crazy with feverish need as if she couldn’t get enough of the feel of his skin or his sexy body.

He lifted his head, his lashes drifted open, and his darkened gaze locked with hers.

He blinked, drawing attention to those lush, dark lashes and his aching green eyes showing his barely suppressed hunger.

His skin was incredibly smooth, despite the peppering of his stubble, gorgeous caramel in tone, and so hot to the touch.

He had something that weakened her. Not so much his looks.

She’d worked with and commanded scads of handsome, dangerous men.

He could touch her in places she didn’t want any man to.

The vulnerability warned her that connections had a way of compromising principles.

She’d avoided emotions like that, yet the only one she kept handy was her sense of commitment to duty.

If she didn’t feel the need to work for her government, she wouldn’t be here.

He was relishing the moment, drinking in her features, the warmth and softness of being inside her, and the aftermath of the internal contractions still buffeting her body.

Shirking her responsibility added a whole new dimension of dark thrill to this heart-stopping experience.

Feeling connected to him in so many ways, she sent her fingertips through his hair. Cupping his scalp with both palms, she pulled his head back. Her eyes flowed over his brutally striking features, homing in on his goddamn sexy mouth.

Shamelessly caressing his lower lip with her tongue, she dropped her head and kissed him.

The feel of him in her mouth, the taste of him, was intoxicating, dizzying.

He set her on fire with his kiss, made her gasp, and every inch of her wanted more.

It was crazy. Crazy and hot and utterly sexual.

The reality of it was so much more intense, the silkiness of his hair sliding through her fingers, the rough edge of his jaw beneath her palm, the strength of his arms wrapped around her.

She was usually in charge. Yet with him, nothing was simple, but it was still safe.

The pure physical energy of him was a force to be reckoned with.

He was powerful, dangerous, and unpredictably seductive.

“I want to fuck you again,” he whispered fiercely, his words rippling through her like lightning, electrifying her. “Feel how exquisitely your body grips my dick as I come.”

Her breath hitched, and she was well aware she had a job to do, but it was a dim thought at the back of her head. “I should?—”

“Let them fucking wait,” he growled. Holding her gaze, he slid a hand between their still joined bodies, across her belly, and down to her mound.

His thumb pressed against her still pulsing flesh, and she moaned uncontrollably as her body clenched with an overpowering need for him again.

He stroked slowly, wringing a soft gasp from her, his masterful touch showing her how good he was at not only breaching doors, but her as well, a fast learner when it came to her body’s responses and needs.

He hardened inside her again, her body clutching his shaft, and she craved whatever pleasure this man was willing to give her.

He began to move, rolling his hips hard against hers, then plunging deeply.

Again and again. Long, fierce, agonizing strokes designed to make the pleasure last. He was just on the verge of rough, and she loved that about him.

He knew how to take a woman and instinctively knew what she needed before she even knew herself.

She didn’t want this to end. For the first time in her life, she wanted to connect before the sensations took over.

She pushed at his chest, and he immediately stopped moving. His eyes connected with hers. “Are you okay?”

“With you deep inside me, I’d say I’m more than okay.”

“Then? Why am I stopping?”

“Tell me something,” she murmured.

“Yeah?” His voice was that gravel-edged whisper, lips near her hair.

“How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Breach.”

He blinked several times as if he was trying to keep up with her when his brain was completely on making love to her.

He took it damned seriously, and Gott help her, he was so damn good at it.

The way he found her G-spot and used his cock to not only stimulate it but supercharge it.

She had no idea how he did it, but her whole lower body and the tips of her aching breasts were still throbbing.

“You want to talk? Now? About breaching?” His brow furrowed. “Am I doing something wrong?”

“Oh, Gott , you’re so freaking adorable.” She cupped his face, smoothing out thatslight frown with her fingers, slipping her hand down, running her palm over his erect nipple. He groaned softly, his hips moving.

“Okay, give me a second to gather what little brain cells I have right now and give you an answer worthy of the question. But I have to say, this takes dirty talk to a different level.”

She laughed softly. “Boomer…” her breath caught, emotion overflowing her boundaries that were now gone, blown away by his hurricane force personality, his powerful vulnerability, the exquisite and complete way he gave of himself, and not only that, but never once controlled her.

He’d stood up to her parents without flinching, knowing that making a good first impression with her family was important to her. He had the courage to champion a little boy he’d just met, and the way he bonded with him…her heart might not recover.

“Do you want me to stay where I am?”

“Are you dying for me?”

His face contorted, and he made the most intense male sound deep in his chest. “Fuck yeah, and if you want me to stop and do the laundry. I’m there. Just make sure I get to come back here and fuck you all over again.”

She laughed so hard. “No. No laundry, although I wouldn’t mind watching you fold my unmentionables with those big, strong hands.”

“This is sexual torture. Right? You’re torturing me.”

“Only a little.”

He chuckled. “I’m going cross-eyed here, so let me answer the damn question.”

“Oh, mein cranky streusel.”

He growled and thrust a little, and she groaned. He grinned. “Breaching…o-fucking-kay. Depends on the door. Depends on what’s behind it. Sometimes it’s a charge. Sometimes it’s a torch. Sometimes it’s just a shoulder and a prayer.”

She couldn’t keep her hands still; she caressed his nipple over and over again, then raked her nails over the hard nub.

His jaw clenched, and he closed his eyes, taking in a ragged breath.

“But it’s always fast. Always committed.

You don’t knock. You don’t hesitate. You read the structure, feel the weight. ..and go through it like you mean it.”

She shivered, the memory of Boomer breaching that ship’s door.

“That’s what you did to me,” she whispered.

“What?” He lowered his head and kissed her, the soft, sensual glide of his tongue matching the rhythm of his forceful thrusts. Eventually, the heat, friction, and fire caught up to him, finally shattering his control.

“Breached. Without explosives, without detonation. No warning. Just...blew through and wrecked everything I thought to be true about myself. You did it effortlessly, sliding under my defenses without any kind of threat. Working into my heart and soul like you were always there.” She felt the change in him as his pace quickened, his breathing grew ragged, and he pumped harder, faster, his chest heaving, moaning deep, the sound vibrating against hers.

“Carter…I don’t know how to do this, but I can’t think about my life without thinking about you,” she whispered.

“Taylor…” his voice was soaked in more than pleasure, rich and filled with something like awe.

He pulled out, then thrust in slow and deep, his voice a murmur against her temple.

Her body clutched him, her hands taking in the heat of him, the texture of his skin, the hard, velvet feel of the muscle beneath.

“You’re the only door I didn’t want to leave open,” he said, his voice compressed. “I wanted to stay inside.”

“I want you inside, so deeply inside.”

He blinked several times as moisture gathered in those green depths. “What? You mean…take this…” He closed his eyes and thrust into her again, his heart thundering against her chest.

“To something more, something we both want.” His guttural groan flowed out of him as she dug her fingers into the rippling muscles of his damp back, arched high and hard into his thrusts, and felt him stiffen as his climax peaked.

He dragged his lips from hers, surged into her a final time, and on a ragged, primitive growl, he spilled himself into her.

Breathing hard, he buried his face against her throat, and she held him so deliciously against her, lost in the pure passion she had for him.

A few minutes passed before he finally lifted his head from the curve of her neck.

In the dim light, his features were shadowed, but there was no mistaking the possessive gleam in his eyes as he stared down at her.

In that moment, she felt incredibly exposed and vulnerable again, because she knew he continued to command her physically and emotionally.