Page 9 of Defended By the SEAL (HERO Force #10)

She lowered her mouth to his arm and kissed his bicep, tasting his salty skin. He jerked awake. “Charlotte,” he groaned. Her mouth trailed kisses down his forearm until she reached his hand, turning it over and kissing his palm, licking the crease between his fingers.

He reached around her and hauled her up to face him, his hands holding her hips tightly against him as his mouth found the sensitive hollow along the side of her neck and kissed her there. Her legs fell apart, needing him against her heat, the pressure of his body as his cock hardened for her.

Her panties were wet from wanting him, her body ready even before his.

His hands moved under her shirt, lifting it over her head and capturing her arms within it.

He rolled her to her back, her chest thrust out as her limbs were constrained, and he rubbed his bearded cheek against her breast and nipple as she longed for him to do.

She cried out, hips thrusting against him, but he only did it again before settling his mouth onto her. He drew her bud against the roof of his mouth, the suction and motion of his tongue driving her to the edge of orgasm as his hand slipped inside her panties.

He was torturing her, controlling her every sensation, and she was powerless to participate beyond extracting pleasure from this man.

One thick finger parted her flesh and filled her, her hips arching up to meet him as he stroked her sensuously.

His thumb settled over her clit and circled gently to the rhythm of his finger and mouth, a rush of excitement fanning out from her center as her body arched to his command.

She called out as her muscles convulsed around him, the sensation overtaking her, vision and hearing diminishing in its wake. There was only Leo and what he was doing to her, only this man and what her body craved.

He moved on top of her and pushed her panties aside with his cock, entering her with one swift stroke before the last of her orgasm subsided and another instantly began to build.

His movements were frenzied, rushed and rough in a way that showed her how much he needed her.

Bracing himself on one arm, he reached up and tweaked her nipple between his fingers, the twinge of pain only amplifying the pleasure between her legs.

She was moaning, crying, panting, desperate for release, and his thrusts intensified at the same time. Had he ever loved her so thoroughly, so heartily, so completely? Or was it the threat of losing him forever that heightened their lovemaking like this?

The world exploded for a second time, sensation overtaking thought and comprehension, the entire focus of her being moving to the heart of her body. She trembled beneath him as he emptied himself into her, his cries in her ear, his cock firmly seated balls-deep in her body.

The patter of hail hitting the window was the first sound to break through her sensory coma, the pop of the fireplace the second. His breathing in her ear, the weight of his body atop her, the shivers that still shook him inside her.

If only she could stay like this forever, his willing captive, at his mercy and satiated like a wet sponge, but already the feeling was slipping away.

The heat of the blankets came next, the sweat that clung to the overheated skin of her legs.

The first stirring of recrimination kindled in her breast.

She closed her eyes, willing it away, wishing she could clean up and curl against his side like she used to do, happy and fulfilled for days to come, like she’d been inoculated against dissatisfaction and regret.

But that was no longer the case, and she longed to have control of her arms back, to have the movement of her hips be independent from his. “I’ve got to get up.”

He moved off her, helping to shuck the shirt from her arms when she struggled with it, and she averted her face as she walked to the bathroom. She wanted to cry, but knew the tears wouldn’t come. How could you weep for something you were choosing to throw away?

She brushed her teeth without looking at herself. She’d made a terrible mistake. It wasn’t her first, and it wasn’t bound to be her last, but it would certainly haunt her for the rest of their time in Maine.

She glanced at herself in the mirror. Makeup smeared, bags under her eyes. She sat back on the edge of the old clawfoot tub. What she needed to do next was horrifically clear.

Make sure Grandma’s safe, get the hell out of here, then get away from Leo Wilson for good.

It was the only potential outcome that held any promise of long-term happiness for her.

She’d come too far to be beholden to any man—her independence too valuable to concede—even for a love as great as this one.

For the first time in her life, she loved herself more than she loved anyone else.

She loved herself enough to look out for her best interests.

She loved herself enough to be alone, to take life on her own terms without fear of what would come or judgement of her failings in getting there.

She loved herself enough to choose herself over Cowboy.

The repercussions, and her own traitorous heart, she would just have to get used to.