Page 24 of The Playboy SEAL
He shakes his head, puts his forefinger under my chin, and lifts my head to look up at him. “Sweetheart, you won’t tell me no. I can have you any which way I want.”
He could. I lose my breath looking at his face. The darkness enhances his perfect features. Shadows cut across the planes of his masculine physique.
“You couldn’t.” I hear my own lie. So does he.
He grins. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I reply, tone breathy.
He leans down. His breath is warm and it makes me delirious with lust. I’m about to combust. I can’t take it anymore. My body calls out to his. Goose bumps rise on my skin the second a shiver racks my body. My nipples are tiny peaks of excitement. They’re straining against the fabric of my dress. I’m asking to be fucked tonight, and I’m surprised he hasn’t called me on it yet. He’s not a gentleman. Grabbing the back of his neck, I bring my mouth up to meet with his. I catch a glimpse of his fucking smirk a second before I kiss the ever-loving shit out him. He pulls my body to him so I can finally feel the steel-hard erection against my stomach.
It’s heaven. It’s hell. His kiss is poison and pleasure wrapped into one. I know it’s a mistake, and I want to make it. I want every single inch of this mistake. His tongue snakes in my mouth as he tilts my head back by a quick tug of my hair. The rough gesture makes me moan out. I don’t like a man taking control of my body by using another body part. It takes away from the moment. Usually. Nothing is usual or normal about Macs and his lips and this kiss.
You know the rush of adrenaline that comes when you’re doing something scary or new, or something you merely know damn well is wrong? It’s whirring in my bones so profusely that my head is swimming. He’s picked me up, the black stretchy cotton high on my hips, and my legs are wrapped around his waist. It only takes a few moments before he’s walking me back to the fucking window.The fucking window. That’s what I’ll call it. He’s holding me up using one arm. The other one is busy fondling my breast. I arch my back because more than anything I want his mouth sucking on my nipple while his cock dives deep inside my body. The warmth of his large hands melts through the fabric and sends tingles spreading throughout my belly and neck.
More.More. It’s the solitary word traveling through my mind. If I weren’t wearing a thong, I’d be sliding him inside me. Macs halts his lips on my mouth and travels down to my neck. I hear him groan as he drives his hard cock into me, wishing we weren’t wearing any clothing. He’s wild. Out of control, only wanting one thing.He wants to take.
I want to give. He raises my weight with ease andyanks my dress down so one breast breaks free.
“Fucking perfect,” he mutters.
He looks at it for a second or two, just breathing heavily, almost like he’s forgotten that body part is attached to a live human, and then he takes my nipple between his teeth. I grind myself against him while the coolness of the window presses against my back. I hear the traffic below us, a honk of a car horn punctuated by the wet laps of his lips sliding around on my skin.
I’m almost there. My thighs tingle, and the ball of pleasure is right at the cusp of spiraling out of control. I’m about to have a dry fucking orgasm. I’ve never been this worked up without penetration or oral sex before in my life. I know it’s this insane crackling chemistry between us. He feels it too. I sense it in every harried, frenzied touch. Every time his lips glide over mine, in every sound or begged plea of release. What does it mean? I don’t ponder long because his lips are back on my mouth, teeth clashing, moans synching in a ballad of ecstasy. My core clenches one final time before I cry out, eyes closed, orgasm tilting the room sideways, my arms wrapped around his chiseled neck tightly. I inhale the scent of the perfect male specimen while I come apart in the cradle of his arms.
Macs places his lips right below my ear. He doesn’t kiss. He merely leaves them there, letting the wetness and his presence in the moment be known. “I can do whatever I want to you, can’t I?” he asks. His words ricochet to my core.
Breathing heavy, I wait to come down from the high, but it’s not happening. Not while his dick is pressingagainst me. Not with his sweaty skin so close and his words laced with so much promise for more.
“Can’t I?” he says again. “I wanted to hear you come. I wanted to see you come. I wanted to kiss you until you came. I do what I want.” Macs keeps his lips against my neck as he speaks.
“Yes. You can do whatever the fuck you want as long as you give me orgasms like that.”
His throaty chuckle rumbles against my chest. “You aren’t filtered when you’re satisfied. Noted.”
I shiver at his words. “You’re not filtered when you have blue balls, are you?”
He lets me slide down his body, sinfully, slowly, his hooded eyes concentrating on my face. My eyelids flutter closed as the rippling wall of his muscles slides against my body. I watch his face. He doesn’t respond, but I can see he wants to say something. His mouth is already open as he pants out long, drawn-out breaths of longing.
“I don’t know,” he whispers. “I’ve never had blue balls before.” He smiles.
It’s all teeth and seduction. In the same breath, he drops me and backs away, his hands balled in fists by his sides. When he reaches my bed, he bends over and places his palms flat on the mattress and lowers his head.
“Kissing’s over?” I ask. I’ve nearly caught my breath, but everything else is on fire. “I can help you with the problem, you know. There’s no need to be scared.” I giggle. It sounds so petulant given the type of man in my bedroom, but I can’t do anything to stop it. He causes me to giggle, and I think I hate that fact. I can’t be sure.
My stomach flips when he turns his focus back to me.
“I have twenty-two cents riding on this. I can’t be sure, but I think what you did against that window probably doesn’t count as just kissing. I know for a fact you helping my aching stomach and balls is off-limits. Second date, remember? I want to fuck you. No amount of time with your mouth spent on my cock is going to fix the problem,” he says. He runs the palm of his hand down his erection and cringes a little. “Fucking you is the only thing that will put this thing to bed. Do you understand?”
“You’re underestimating my blow jobs, Macs. Just saying,” I reply, pushing my lips to one side. He is well and truly underestimating me. “Three minutes tops.”
His eyes widen as he interlocks his hands over his head, and I can’t help but look at his shorts and the huge, hard cock that lies just below the surface. I want to drown in his naked body like cum in a bukkake porno. My heart races along in anticipation even though the words coming out of his mouth make perfect sense. My friends don’t matter right now. Neither does Vegas, or the bet, or even my goddamn self-worth.
“I want you,” I say.
I step in his direction, but he moves away briskly. It’s like a game of cat and mouse. His grin transforms into a laugh as he walks backward out of my room and into the living area. I follow him.
“You may have escaped my dungeon, but you’ll be back.” They always want back. Even men like Macs.
