Page 35 of The Destined SEAL
“It’s just you,” I say, nodding. Looking up at him, I’m reaffirmed of everything I’ve always known about him. “It’s just me,” I whisper, pulling his underwear down.
“It’s only you. Always. Only you,” he returns, shaking his head.
I take off my bra after several seconds of Ben trying and failing to get it off, and then he falls against me, lips and passion and this feeling in my stomach no one else gives me. There’s no regret or feeling that we may be making a mistake.
Ben is the only decision I’ve ever been sure of in my entire life. Giving myself to him is the culmination of a lifelong, forever love. Something I’ll never be able to give to anyone else.
Lust. Passion. Soul-searing love.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Ben
“Tell me how you want it.”
Harper is standing in the middle of my bedroom, looking every bit as perfect as she has my entire life, except even more so. Half of the green dress is hanging off her shoulder, exposing her tit, and her hair is as big as a lion’s mane from the intense make-out session on the sofa. We barely made it through the door before we went full-on primal.
Her chest rises and falls as her perfect goddamn mouth pants out breaths of seduction. It was her idea to come into my bedroom for more space.
“I don’t even want to blink right now,” I admit. “You’re a vision.”
Her tongue darts out to lick her bottom lip. “Yeah?”
“Tell me how you want it,” I repeat.
With slow hands, she removes her dress, exposing her flawless skin inch by inch as she goes. “Any which way,” she says, meeting my eyes. Gone is any hesitation she’s ever had about our friendship and boundaries or even other relationships. No one else is in this room with us, despite the fact that there’s a bottle of Norah’s hand lotion on one nightstand. When she’s naked but for a pair of nude high heels, she draws nearer, eyes like sex-shrouded missiles locked and aimed directly on me. My dick strains against my pants, and I readjust in a squat, grab move.
I still haven’t blinked, too afraid the mirage from my wildest fantasy might pop smoke and morph into a normal woman instead of the one I’ve wanted my entire life. Harper is standing so close in front of me I can smell her desire mixed with her perfume, and the scent makes me delirious with lust.
“No hands,” she says when I reach for her tiny waist. “Not yet,” she amends when my face falls.
“I never pinned you for a cock tease,” I admit, smirking. “How many years has it been?” I ask. “I take it back. You’re the cock tease president.”
She tells me how long it’s been. Down to the day, since the last time I was inside her, my mind and body being indoctrinated with the perfect balance of everything and nothing at the same exact time.
“I’ve wanted you every second since then,” I reply honestly.
Her neck works as she swallows and leans in to kiss the spot beneath my ear. I give in and close my eyes to the sensation of her lips on my skin. My entire body responds—every square inch of skin prickling with heat and desire. More than anything in the world, I hope my damn phone doesn’t ring or that someone doesn’t ring my doorbell. With steady, deft hands, Harper unbuttons my shirt and unzips my pants. With pure womanly confidence, she slides my boxer briefs down my legs, stooping down on her high heels to help me step out of my clothing.
Standing back to admire her handiwork and my hard work, she rubs her chin like she’s judging a dog show instead of my smoke show.
“Best of show?” I ask, pulling the corner of my bottom lip into my mouth. I flex my abs a bit as she takes in my physique. It’s mostly because I know she’ll laugh, but she doesn’t. It turnsher on even more. Her pert, round tits rise up and down as her breathing speeds.
“Best in life,” Harper finally responds. “When was the last time you were tested for rabies?” She meets my eyes with a small grin.
“Last week. Monthly. What about you?” I tilt my head and try to step forward, but she halts me with a head shake. “Come on, Harpee. You’re killing me.”
She reaches out and grabs my hand. “I’m clean,” she replies. My cock jerks. No condoms. Skin. I crave it more than a man dying of thirst.
“You know how some people have a cheat celebrity they fantasize about having sex with?” I ask, committing her every naked curve to memory.
Harper grins. “Chris Hemsworth.”
I let my eyes flare in mock outrage. “You’re it for me, Harper. The one. The dream girl. The woman I’d break every rule to be with.”
She clears her throat. “I was joking about Chris. You’re mine too.”
“Liar.” I quirk up a brow.
