Page 39 of Stranded with the SEAL

A warm flush spread up her chest to her neck and cheeks.

Trevor’s voice was tight and gravelly. “I should have given you the dress when I found it. I don’t know why I didn’t.”

She opened the door, watching as his chin lifted and his eyes raked over every inch of her body, finally colliding with her own. She could feel the pain in his stare, the heat, and knew what the sight of her was doing to him. Looking at him was doing the exact same thing to her.

The knowledge made her bold. “I know why you didn’t tell me.” She took a deep breath. This was right. No matter what happened later, outside these walls and away from here, making love to this man could only ever be right. “Because the electricity between us is enough to light up every house on this mountainside, and you didn’t want to let that go any more than I do.”

His eyes seemed to sparkle at the mention of the lust that was in full bloom. He shook his head slightly. “It was wrong.”

Their time together was slipping away, reality encroaching on her dreams. If she didn’t do something quickly, Trevor Hawkins would be nothing but a memory, and everything that had been lost to her would rise up to cover her head like water.

But he was an honorable man, and what she wanted from him was anything but honorable. Steeling herself against his rejection, she stepped toward him, lightly resting her fingers on his shoulder. “I still want to make love to you, Trevor.”

He stared at her, suspended, his eyes locked with hers and dilating.

“If you’ll have me,” she whispered. The first inkling of fear settled into her stomach. Oh God, he was going to turn her down. She could feel it. She slipped her hand down his arm. “Please,” she begged.

A look of raw hunger overtook his features, and he kissed her. She welcomed his arms as he wrapped them around her possessively. She needed to feel her skin against his, her naked chest desperate to rub against his pecs and chest hair.

“Get me out of this dress,” she said against his mouth.

He pulled back just enough to meet her stare with a harsh look of his own. “No,” he growled. “Leave the dress on.”

25

Trevor was overcomewith the need to possess her. Telling her about the ring and dress had been the most difficult things he’d ever done, yet here she was, choosing to share herself with him even after she learned the truth.

He grabbed her hips and pressed against layers of fabric, finding the softness between her legs and grinding his hardening cock against her there.

She let out a gasp.

In his hands he held fistfuls of the wedding dress she’d bought to marry another man, and he had a desperate need to claim her as his own. To prove her clothing held no power to keep them apart, that what they shared was stronger than fancy beads and lace or any promises that came before this moment.

He lifted his head and saw the arousal on her flushed face, then kissed down the side of her neck to her bodice, tracing its edge with his tongue.

Olivia murmured and reached down, arching her back as she pushed the fabric down to expose her lace-covered breasts. The sight of her dark nipples inside the gossamer bra made him growl with need. He had to taste her, had to feel her against his tongue, press his lips into the soft flesh of her breast. He took her into his mouth, suckling her through the garment. She keened loudly, her hips bucking wildly against him.

He breathed against her there. “You’re so beautiful.”

She pushed the cups of her bra all the way down, exposing the nipple, wet and erect from his mouth. He took what she offered and latched firmly on to her skin, drawing her nipple deep into his mouth and sucking out a drop of her sweetness. She went wild.

He could feel his cock straining against his shorts, so anxious was he to be inside her. Swooping down with one arm, he picked her up from behind her knees and carried her to the bed, the fullness of her skirt nearly reaching his face. She hit the bed with a bounce and pulled him down on top of her.

“I need you inside me,” she said breathlessly.

Leaning away from her, he found the hem of her dress and began lifting the layers up over her waist until he bared her legs and tiny underwear. He could barely see her face, only her smooth, shapely legs and the junction that waited for him to enter, surrounded by layers and layers of tulle.

He ran his hands up her legs until he rested between them. He inhaled the scent of sex and knew he’d never smelled anything more arousing. He unfastened his belt and unzipped his fly, instantly growing even bigger, more eager, more excited.

“Roll over,” he commanded, and she did.

He found the top of the zipper on her dress and slid it down, over the small of her back and the top of her ass. Then he peeled it off of her, freeing her body from the confines of the fabric, and sliding off her underwear.

He rolled her back over, glorying in the sight of her completely naked. He was going to be inside her, stroking her most sensitive flesh, and he knew he’d never wanted anyone more. He sunk his fingers into her soft curls and found her opening dripping with dew, just as he was.

Had a woman ever been so eager for his touch? So desperate to be as close to him as he was to her?

“God, you are so lovely,” he said reverently. “And so ready for me.” He gently teased her clitoris and let his finger slip lower. “So sweet and wet.”