Page 25 of The Forgotten SEAL (The Real SEAL #1)

I sigh. The butterflies in my stomach threaten to rise into my throat.

It’s an odd sensation. A little bit of stage fright mixes with absolute passion.

I’ve never been a fan of blow jobs, honestly.

It was something I had to do because men like them, and it’s how you return the favor.

Right now my mouth is watering for Smith.

I want to taste him. I want to own this first—something that no one else can say.

“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more,” I say, my gaze still taking in the lower half of his body. “Well,” I stutter.

With his hands perched on his hips, he says, “Finish that thought, please.”

His command draws my gaze up to meet his. Smith’s warm voice is gritty with desire. It twists my insides into knots. “It wasn’t really a thought,” I reply. Taking his hand, I guide it back to my core. “It’s more of a given. I want to have sex with you.”

Smith sucks in a breath, bites his lower lip, and closes his eyes. His eyebrows knit together. He’s holding himself back. It’s a look I’m not familiar with. In my previous relationship, holding back wasn’t ever on the agenda. Roarke took from me exactly what he wanted regardless of how I felt.

“We aren’t in the living room right now, so it’s obviously not on the agenda,” I say. I scoot forward to give him better access and tentatively reach for his hard-on. I watch as he swallows hard and then raises his other hand to my face, and I lean into it.

“All this time, I’ve gotten to know everything about you on the inside.

The outside was a tightly held treasure of a mystery.

The promise of the eighth wonder of the world.

I’ve wanted to touch you like this for a long time,” Smith growls.

My eyes flutter closed for a brief moment as his fingers play me like his favorite instrument.

“It’s not a disappointment. In case you’re curious.

Every curve,” Smith whispers, dragging the hand from my cheek down my neck and trailing over the swell of my breast. “Every beauty mark.” The tip of his finger grazes the spot right next to my belly button.

“Every single line, dip, and hair on your entire body.” He leans in and kisses me.

A breath-stealing kiss. A life-altering kiss.

Into my ear, he says, “Is my favorite memory.”

“No more memories. Just now. Okay?” I say against his lips. “Our future,” I promise.

He agrees with a megawatt smile and just the right words again.

My heart flutters like the wings of a bird.

This takes courage—a facet of my personality that’s buried deeply inside somewhere that hasn’t been accessed for years.

Since I was a little girl and hugging my knees and praying for a miracle.

My miracle happened. Just later than expected.

“Well, this one last thing can go into memory. If you think it worthy enough,” I reply.

Smith smirks as I lean over and push his boxer briefs further down his sculpted thighs.

I take him into my mouth and relish in the hiss of air that leaves his mouth when I slide him in deeply.

He swears. Every curse word in the book.

Words I’ve never heard before pass his lips.

For a man who has never received oral sex, he finds his role quickly.

One hand is wrapped around my hair and the other is pushing the back of my neck in the fast rhythm that I quickly realize he enjoys most.

My hand is tired, and my jaw feels like it may never shut again, but the pressure is on to give him the best first of his life.

It’s all I can give him at the moment, and it feels glorious.

Smith tells me a few times to slow down because he wants to last a while longer, wants to feel my wet mouth around him longer.

I know it won’t take much longer when the grip on my hair tightens.

I keep my hand pumping and take him to the back of my throat.

He comes in several hot, long bursts down my throat.

On the last jerk, he falls back into the kneeling position.

I keep my mouth latched around him until I’m sure he’s finished and swallow the remnants. His grip loosens on my hair and neck. Taking a deep breath, I sit up again into the kneeling position. “Finish your thoughts, please,” I say, taking his words.

“Best orgasm of my life. You swallowed it,” he says, eyes wide.

I smile. “What did you think I would do with it?”

“Spit it all over my body and break out into a thankless argument about how female ejaculation isn’t real,” he replies.

Smith and I break out into laughter at the same time. He pins me on the bed. His weight is welcome and warm. The urge to have him deep inside me surfaces, and I wonder if he knows how deliriously happy he makes me.

I cover my mouth with one hand to stifle the laughter. Grabbing my wrist, he pulls my hand down. “Never cover that blessed device. Do you understand me?”

I giggle and shrug. His beautiful eyes crinkle in the corners as he smiles down at me. “I understand,” I say, feigning obedience.

His mouth turns down as his smile disappears. “I’m sorry for being rough with your head. Surprisingly, I had little control of that in the heat of the moment.”

His concern gives me pause. “Don’t apologize. I know you would never hurt me purposefully. You would never hurt me in any way.” How I hope this is true. How I hope he is my forever. He runs his fingers through my hair gently. “Would you?”

I know him well enough to know he will read between the lines like a pro. His eyes glaze over. He kisses my forehead and then the tip of my nose. I close my eyes when he kisses my eyelids.

When I open them to find his true emotions playing across his face, for the very first time, I know my hopes will become a reality. “I love you, Carina. I love you forever.”

And nothing can steal them away.

Nothing.