Page 29 of The Forgotten SEAL (The Real SEAL #1)

My mind clears completely for all that isn’t Smith Eppington.

His muscles are coiled and hard, and his eyes are truly only for me.

First, he tosses down a faux fur throw blanket from the sofa, and then, bending over, he easily takes my body weight in his arms and lowers us onto the floor.

He never stops kissing me. It’s the delirious feeling of floating and falling and consuming him right back.

He breaks away briefly and remarks how my panties are his favorite color as he slides them down my legs.

I don’t tell him that’s why I chose them.

I smile and tell him something more true. “I love you. You know that, right?”

I’m completely naked, and my words give him pause.

The soft glow of the candles and the moonlight infiltrating our safe place transform this moment into something magical.

“I think I do know that,” Smith replies.

“I’ve never heard words that made me happier.

Or frankly, more turned-on.” His cock pulses up in protest. “You have no idea how you affect me. How you’ve always affected me. ”

Smith doesn’t give me a chance to respond.

He bends his head down and kisses me between my legs with his tongue.

He licks me deep and slides a finger in at the same time.

He’s just as turned on by it as I am. His breaths come fast, and my own hands become frantic.

Pulling him closer, writhing under the strong weight of his hands pressing me down.

Breaths turn into panting and then into moans.

He’s a quick study—knows exactly what gets me off.

Tonight I want something more than his magical tongue and fingers.

“I want you inside me, Smith,” I beg. With the sides of his face in my hands, he raises his gaze to look at me. “Inside me.”

“That’s an order I can’t ignore,” Smith says, sitting up. He scoots over to sit on the blanket and takes me with him. I walk on my knees to straddle his legs and lean forward to kiss his lips—taste my wetness. “How’s that taste?” he asks.

“Like I’m ready,” I reply. I kiss him again and glide my lips down the side of his neck—the bad side—and trail soft kisses across his wide shoulder and back again. His dick is beneath me, warm and hard as steel, flexing and throbbing. “Are you ready?”

He doesn’t reply with words. Smith reaches between our bodies to position himself, and with his free hand, pushes my ass down. I cry out. It’s pleasure. It’s pain. It’s unlike anything else in this world. A small groan escapes his lips and into my mouth. “Did I hurt you?” he whispers.

I lean back to look at him and slide up a touch.

“You could never hurt me,” I reply. Then I lower myself back down onto his slick cock.

It fills me so fully that I don’t want for anything else in this moment.

I ride him several more times, connected, melting into blissful oblivion while watching the forever memory dance in his hooded eyes.

He works my clit with his thumb, a gentle assault compared to the girth of his member splitting me in two.

I throw my head back and relish all of my senses.

The sweet smell of the floral candles burns through the air, as do the crickets chirping outside the window, Smith’s lips dragging down my throat as he makes the sweetest of love to me.

His body is hard, but his heart is so soft—so ready to love freely without reserve.

“I’m going to come. Where?” he grinds out in between clenched teeth. “Where?” he asks again.

We spoke about the fact that I’m on birth control already.

“Inside me. I’m coming. Inside me,” I say.

It’s jumbled because my thighs are tingling and my whole body is about to fire into the atmosphere, but I’m sure he’s understood.

With both hands on my ass, he brings me up and down at the speed that he desires.

It’s punishing and erotic. I slump over his shoulder and hug him around his neck as I come around him.

It’s fast and slow at the same time. The waves of pleasure are so severe that I see stars, my whole body overwhelmed with the satisfaction of release.

Smith brushes several strands of hair away from my face as I continue to slide up and down on top of him. “I need to see your face,” he says, holding my cheek lightly.

“I’m here,” I say.

He licks his lips a moment before his mouth crashes into mine.

He kisses me with his eyes open for a second or two, and then, with his gaze locked with mine and his hands still on my face, he comes.

His eyes flutter closed briefly as he unloads several hot bursts deep inside me.

I wrap my legs around his waist and clutch him as tightly and as closely as I can.

I think from this position we can’t be closer.

Him inside me, his heart beating against my chest, his chin folded over my shoulder.

His breaths falling down my back. It’s all so personal, so vehemently different from what I’m used to.

Regardless if this was the right choice—he and I—I now realize this was my only choice.

“Is it wrong that I already want a second time? And a third after that?” Smith asks. I feel the rumble of his spoken words in his chest as he speaks them.

I press a kiss to his shoulder. “You’re still inside me. I don’t think we can count this one over yet,” I reply.

He lets his palm graze down the center of my back until he finds my ass. Then, he lifts me up. Almost to the point where his cock leaves my body, but not quite. When I don’t think I can take another second, he lets me fall back down, taking him all the way in, filling me completely.

I moan, the noise echoing loudly in the room. He hisses out a long breath. “You’re still hard,” I rasp. I run my teeth down the edge of his ear and let my tongue glide along the rim.

“Care, I’m going to be hard anytime you’re in the same room as me for the rest of our lives.” He groans when I suck his earlobe and assault him with a slow ride. “I’m ruined now. In the best fucking possible way.”

I circle my hips in a small circle, forcing a new sensation. “This was beyond all expectations and dreams. Ah, yes. Keep doing that. Fuck,” Smith growls.

“This feels so good. Your cock is so big and thick. It rubs me the right way. I want to come again, filled with you,” I reply. The motion of circling and grinding is the perfect angle for my clit, and I feel the sensations of orgasm building again.

He takes my face in his hands. This time he tilts my face to the ceiling and licks a trail from the hollow of my neck up to the bottom of my chin. “Do that. Around my dick.”

I push myself down a little further. And in a quick move, with one arm around my back, he leans me down so I’m resting on the floor.

Smith rubs my clit while he thrusts inside me, rubbing my G-spot with the head of his erection.

I close my eyes with the uncontrollable bliss of this position.

I tell him I’m going to come, and he leans forward so he can kiss my lips while I explode, my core clenching as much as it can around his girth.

I pant several long, drawn-out breaths, my chest heaving with exertion and pleasure. “I can’t even breathe, that was so good,” I whisper. The scent of sex and the candles warps my reality. It’s like coming to Jesus. Being rescued. Something burned into the core of my being.

“Please breathe. I wasn’t trying to kill you. I promise,” Smith says. “I wanted to make you feel good.”

Feel good. He wanted to make me feel good.

Does he have any idea how trivial that sounds coming off the lips of a person who has saved my life?

“Smith,” I chide, rubbing the good side of his face.

“We knew the sex was going to be like this. This breathing entity of its own. We were made for each other.” His half grin fades as he realizes the magnitude of what we’re feeling together.

“Now it will be a chore to keep us off each other because we’ve opened Pandora’s sex box. ”

His eyes crinkle in the corners with that comment.

“I’m just glad it meant as much to you as it did to me. It’s why I wanted to wait. To make sure this was it,” he says. Smith winces as he draws himself out of my body. “That was the most pain I’ve ever been in,” he proclaims, grimacing as he wraps a hand around his slick cock.

I smirk. “Your invitation is open. Anytime. ”

He kisses me on the nose and pulls me up to a seated position.

“The fur blanket is going to be sullied in mere seconds.” I raise one brow when I feel his come leak from me, warm and wet.

“I never understood that in movies and books. Why do people have sex on fur? It can’t be cleaned easily, and it’s possibly the most impractical fabric to use.

” I sigh and shift positions to try to dodge the inevitable.

Smith pulls me into him, kissing me breathless.

“Maybe they want to mimic a There’s Something About Mary hairstyle, though? Except on fake animal fur.”

“That’s just weird,” I say, my lips brushing his. With his arms wrapped around me right now, I feel something I’ve never felt. “You make me feel so safe. Like no matter what happens, I’ll always be okay because you’ll protect me. It’s so cliché.” But also so true.

“Always,” Smith says, his face buried in my hair. “I’ll always protect you from everything. On my honor.”

You know how when you’re a little girl playing dolls, Ken walks Barbie down the aisle when they get married?

It’s mostly because you don’t know any different, but also because he’s the only man doll.

Even when I grew up, I liked that idea more than a father figure doing the walking.

It’s Ken who is changing your life. It’s Ken who will drive the convertible back to the pink mansion.

It’s Ken who is rescuing. It’s Ken who is protecting.

Now that’s cliché .

And it’s also the one truth I’m now positive of because Smith Eppington is my Ken. And I want to marry him and keep him forever.