Page 13 of Stealthy Seduction (SEAL Team Blackout Charlie #5)

E ven though Izzy had been in Steele’s bedroom before, she stood a few steps inside the door, taking it all in. From the depths of her amber eyes, he could see how she catalogued every corner.

She turned in a slight arc, staring at the footlocker in the corner that held pretty much everything he owned, then moving to the bed, the covers so tight you could bounce a quarter off them, thanks to the first commanding officer he ever had.

“You don’t have much.” Her quiet words pulled him a step closer to her.

“I don’t need much.”

“I admit, the first time I came to your room, I didn’t look around much.”

Ducking his head, he bit back a grin. “Are you surprised by what you see?”

“I thought there would be more camo.”

He couldn’t help it; he chuckled. The woman was pure, bubbly joy even when she wasn’t trying.

“And MREs stacked in the corner.”

That had him laughing more, and he felt her body relax.

“You don’t have much of a life outside the team, do you?” She tipped her face up to his.

He stopped. How to explain Blackout to somebody on the outside? Hell, some days he woke up questioning how the hell he’d become a dead man walking—a ghost.

He shook off the questions rolling through his mind. Now wasn’t the time for such a discussion. Tonight was about Izzy, about making sure she felt safe and cared for.

Clasping her hand, he gave it a slight tug. “Come sit down.”

There was a chair in the corner. Not a metal folding chair, but not high-end comfort either. Still, it served as a place to sit.

To his surprise, she didn’t head for the chair. She sank to the edge of his bed instead.

His gut clenched at the memory of her on his bed, warm chestnut curls tumbling over his sheets and her lips parted in an O of bliss.

He perched beside her, close but not touching.

“You read?” She gestured toward the thrillers and military histories in stacks next to the bed. He read during the boredom between missions or to wind down after the more stressful ones.

“Yes.”

“Like, you read actual books.”

He snorted. “Are you suggesting I can’t read because I have all this?” He waved a hand down the front of his body, pointing out the toned machine he’d built his body to be.

Though he caught the way her eyes dipped over his chest, she only smiled in return. “And you apparently have a thing for soft sheets. That much I remember.”

He barely controlled the growl building in his throat. “Then I didn’t do a good enough job distracting you. As for the sheets, after sleeping on dirt and rocks, good thread count becomes a top priority.”

For a long minute, neither spoke nor moved. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was loaded with something he couldn’t guess was coming. Until it did.

She inched her hand along the mattress. Her pinky bumped his.

Christ, he shouldn’t be feeling that hard tug on his heart from such a small touch.

She settled her pinky over his for a beat. Then in a swift move he really didn’t see coming, she jumped off the bed and plunked into his lap, straddling him.

Unable to take this slow, he cupped her beautiful face. Their breaths mingled as their foreheads met. His eyes slipped shut.

In the same moment, in sync, they moved. He crushed his mouth to hers, and she kissed him with a desperate force that sent him reeling.

He sank his fingers into her hair, trapping her mouth to his. The taste of her, the feel of her soft curves pressing against his, left him aching for more. So much more.

But he forced himself to hold the caress, lips unmoving on hers.

Izzy was having none of it. She threw her arms around his neck and parted her lips on a throaty moan.

He plunged his tongue inside, sweeping the interior, gathering her groan as he clutched her tighter. Her breaths came in rapid pants. Her nails dug lightly into his shoulders as she rolled her body against his.

“Honey. We don’t have to do anything. I brought you here prepared to tuck you into my bed.”

A faint bead of wetness slicked her plump bottom lip. “I want this, Hudson. I want you.”

In a quiet rustle, he lifted her off his lap and lay her on the bed with all the care that he would use for a precious artifact. Braced over her, he held her gaze. “I want to make sure you’re all right. That you know you’re safe.”

“I know that. You make sure I know.” She hooked her arms around his neck, dragging him down.

His heart flexed as he captured her mouth once more, and this time he didn’t hold back. He kissed her deep and slow.

A claiming that told her everything he couldn’t say out loud.

His tongue tangled with hers, drinking her in until she was arching beneath him and whimpering into his mouth.

Steele braced one arm beside her head, his body caging hers in, but careful—always careful. He could throw men twice his size across a room without breaking a sweat, but with Izzy, every move was measured.

The world had already threatened her once, and he swore that it wouldn’t get the chance again.

But the way she tugged at his shirt, the press of her curves to the hard, throbbing bulge behind his jeans, shredded his restraint. She wanted him. Maybe she needed him to give her an escape for one night.

And Christ help him, he needed her just as fiercely.

“Izzy…” His voice came out rough, scraped raw from holding back. “Tell me again.”

She knew what he was asking.

“I want you,” she whispered, breathless and trembling, though not with fear. Her eyes burned with a fire he’d never seen the whole world over. “I want to feel alive. I want to feel you.”

Her words detonated inside him. He yanked his shirt over his head, and her hands went instantly to explore—skating over his chest, his scars, tracing the grooves of muscle like she was memorizing every inch. Each stroke left heat blooming across his skin.

He dipped his head, trailing kisses down her throat, across her collarbone, tasting the sweetness of her skin, the faint hint of pure Izzy. She gasped and arched, offering him more. Steele groaned, losing himself in the curve of her body beneath his mouth.

Her fingers fumbled with his waistband, and he caught her hands, pressing them to the mattress. “Slow,” he ground out, searching her gaze. “If we do this, it’s not just a distraction. Not just because you were scared tonight. To me…it’s more, Izzy. A hell of a lot more.”

Her expression softened, all the teasing banter gone, leaving behind pure truth. “Hudson…I know. And I’m not afraid of that. Or of you. I’m only afraid you’ll stop.”

The lump in his throat nearly choked him. He released her wrists and kissed her again, fierce and unrestrained. His body surged against hers, eager and aching. She answered with the same fire, tugging him down, wrapping her legs around his hips.

He slid a hand under her shirt, palms hot against her skin, feeling the tremble of her stomach muscles under his touch. She shivered, but her lips parted on a sigh of welcome. After he worked the whole row of dainty buttons on her blouse, she maneuvered to let him strip it away.

The sight of her laid bare beneath him, chest rising and falling, eyes wide with trust, nearly undid him.

“Beautiful,” he rasped, lowering his mouth to her curves, worshipping every inch with slow, hungry kisses as he worked at the clasp of her bra.

Her fingers threaded into his hair, holding him close, urging him on with hoarse pleas that turned into cries when he clamped his lips around her nipple.

Every sound she made sank deeper into his chest, stripping off years of armor he hadn’t realized he wore until now.

Years of living rough, of being as hard as his last name, of being the most reliable member on the team, had placed a shield around him, one that nobody penetrated.

Izzy did that without even trying, by just being Izzy.

He wanted her pleasure like his own mission. He wanted her safe, adored, wrung out by bliss in his arms.

He worshipped her breasts with his lips and tongue, sucking until she rocked off the bed to a primal rhythm. It was something neither of them could run from.

He moved down her body, kissing and tasting every dip and curve with dark hunger. She arched under him, her breath breaking on little cries that made his blood surge hot. Steele dragged his lips lower, mapping her with tongue and teeth until she writhed against him.

“Izzy,” he groaned, lifting his head long enough to catch her gaze. “Tell me what you want. I need to hear it.”

Her cheeks were flushed, amber eyes blazing. “You. All of you. Don’t hold back.”

Christ, that undid him. He kissed a path down her stomach, slow and torturous, his hands skimming her sides until he hooked his thumbs into her waistband. She lifted her hips in unspoken invitation, and he stripped her bare, drinking in the sight of her spread out on his bed.

He ran a hand up the inside of her thigh. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

Her breath caught, and then she gasped when he lowered himself between her thighs. Steele flattened his tongue against her hot pussy, savoring her taste, her heat, the way she arched so responsively at the first stroke.

He gripped her hips to hold her steady as he licked her again, slower, deeper, until her hands fisted the sheets.

“Oh my god—Hudson—” Her voice broke on his name, and he smiled against her, greedy for every sound.

He worked her with his tongue, circling, teasing, then delving into her slick heat, giving her no mercy and no escape.

Her thighs quaked against his shoulders, her body shivering under the force of his touch.

“You’re safe,” he murmured against her, sliding a finger inside, curling it just right as his tongue continued its relentless strokes. “Safe, and so damn perfect. Let go for me, Izzy.”

Her cry tore through the room as she shattered, arching high off the bed, trembling hard while he guided her through the wave, drinking in her release like a man starved. Steele didn’t stop until she fell back against the sheets, panting.