Bound by the SEAL (ASSIGNMENT: Caribbean Nights Book 5) Read online

  His grin got broader. “So you want the big brute?”

  Everything inside her lit up. “Oh yeah.”

  “And when do I know to let go?” He kissed her, hard and fast. His tongue slicked against her lower lip, leaving it wet. “Do you want a safe word?”

  “Always a good idea,” she whispered. “And I like check-ins. You’ll never ruin the mood by asking me if I like something.”

  “Good to know. I like talking, too. Almost as much as I like fucking. And teasing, and licking…”

  Her head fell back and he showed her exactly what he meant on her neck. She was vaguely aware of him moving her farther into the apartment as he found her pulse point and nipped her there, then smoothed over the skin with a hot, wide press of his tongue.

  He kissed lower, into the valley between her breasts, until he ran into the edge of her dress. That only stopped him as long as it took him to nudge her straps off her shoulders. They fell to her elbows, baring her bra and binding her arms to her sides at the same time.

  “You. Are. Gorgeous,” he ground out, tracing the curves of her breasts along the edge of the lace mesh bra. He followed the edge of the cup, finding a straining, eager nipple with the tip of his finger.

  He groaned. She gasped. He pushed her gently backward and she found herself bouncing onto the couch.

  “Sorry about that,” he said in a not-at-all sorry voice. He dropped to his knees in front of her and slid his hands up her thighs, bunching her dress as he touched her. “Here. Hold on to this.”

  He pushed the fabric into her hands, making her reveal herself to him.

  Her face flamed as he sat back on his heels and blatantly took her in. His eyes raked over her bra, over her panties, and the white dress that now fell in waves around her middle. Slowly, he let his gaze drop back to the apex of her thighs, and her legs clenched under the intimate appraisal. Could he see how wet she was? Her panties were sheer nude lace mesh, same as her bra. Neither did much good in keeping any secret of her body’s response to him. Hard nipples, wet sex.

  He didn’t miss any of it. He leaned in, bracing his hands on either side of her, and kissed her mouth first. Then he continued his oral assault on her body, first sucking on her nipples through the bra, then nudging her swollen, aching flesh out of the cups to be tortured by the air as he moved down her body and settled his shoulders between her thighs.

  Where he tugged her panties aside and proved just how much he liked teasing, and licking, and once she was restless and aching for it, fucking, too, because as his tongue swirled around her clit, he slid a thick, talented finger inside her and made her shamelessly hump against him.

  “More?” he asked as he kissed her inner thigh.

  “Yes, more. More, more, more,” she gasped as he added a second finger.

  “Come on, gorgeous. Come for me.”

  All she could do was whine as he moved in and out of her, his breath a tease against her clit.

  At some point, she might have whined his name, followed by some curse words. She wasn’t sure, and didn’t care, because whatever noises she made eventually convinced him she really, really wanted his mouth on her clit again, and when he sucked on that sensitive nub, she exploded, a spiral of bliss spun totally out of control. An explosion of bliss. A greedy, desperate bliss attack on her central nervous system.

  Then she started giggling, because how many times could the word bliss flash in neon in her brain before it started to lose meaning?

  “Good one?” Brayden asked with a grin as he swept her into his arms. “And where’s your bedroom?”

  She pointed in the general direction and wrapped her arms tight around his neck. Oh yeah, that was a good one.

  He set her down beside her bed and she quickly undid her belt, then slid out of her dress and underwear. Naked, she leaned back against the mattress and watched him unbutton his shirt. His bare torso was utterly masculine. Sculpted muscles, a thin trail of hair leading south from his navel to his belt, and dark, flat nipples that made her mouth water.

  She shifted restlessly, and he stopped undressing. His eyes hooded as he took her in. “Get up higher on the bed.”

  “Why?”

  “Show me how wet you are.”

  She flushed. “You know…you were just…”

  “Eating you out? Hell yeah, I was. And I miss the taste of you already. Now get up on the bed and spread your legs for me. Show me where you want my cock.”

  She scrambled back and pulled her legs up. She was shameless in her want for him, there was no doubt about that. How did they even get here? He’d invited her out for a drink.

  And she’d told him she’d rather do this.

  That had been brave of her. And oh so clever.

  His gaze didn’t leave her body as he unbuckled his belt and pushed his dress pants down his legs.

  “I forgot to tell you that you looked nice,” she whispered.

  He leaned over and pulled a condom from his pants pocket.

  “It was a good attempt at—” a nice date, she wanted to say, but she couldn’t because he was on top of her, kissing her, and words were impossible.

  Thoughts, too, for that matter.

  All that remained was a sudden, burning need to have him inside her. All of him, as deep as he could get.

  ~

  She’d been trying to say nice things to him. He’d heard the words, but he’d also ordered her to show him her pussy, and as soon as she’d complied with that, all niceties had been wasted.

  This was what he’d wanted when he asked her to join him for a drink. He’d been starving for this kind of an all-consuming distraction, and he was getting that and so much more.

  That didn’t mean he wasn’t aware of her. He was hyper aware of her. Arielle. Oh yes, he knew exactly which woman was stretching beneath him, reaching her arms automatically for the headboard because that’s what good girls did.

  He cupped one of her small, perfect breasts and squeezed, plumping her nipple between his fingers. She moaned and rolled her hips. He cupped the curved flare of her side and stilled her, and she whimpered until he praised her. “Yes, just like that,” he murmured. “Let me touch you a little, first.”

  She nodded her head and he kissed her again. He tasted her mouth, her neck, her breasts. He couldn’t get enough of her skin, warm and sweet. Of her scent, feminine and delicately earthy. Of her sounds, desperate and quiet, then not-so-quiet as he pushed off his boxer briefs and let his cock bounce heavy against her legs.

  And still he touched her. He learned how her nipples pebbled at a gentle touch and bloomed when suckled. He rolled her over and kissed down her spine, licking right to the seam of her buttocks until she squirmed.

  “Not there?” He grinned against the small of her back.

  She hesitated. “Not on a first date.”

  “Is this a date? I like the sound of that.”

  “Let’s touch base on what we’re calling this after another orgasm.”

  “I like that you’re still sassy when you’re turned on.”

  “I like that you’re still able to hold a conversation when your cock has to be desperate to get inside me.”

  He shoved her legs apart and rocked against her from behind. The wet slide of her against his erection actually did render him mute for a second, but he recovered because he wasn’t a fan of not having the last word. Not even during sex. “Not just my cock, gorgeous. Every inch of me is desperate.”

  Instead of taunting him again, she just rose onto her knees and he died a little inside. This was perfection. This was joy.

  He sheathed himself and notched himself against her tight, warm, wet pussy and pressed into her.

  The unholy groan she made as he slowly parted her folds and entered her body was the best sound he’d ever heard. Her panting how big he was had to be a close second.

  Like any other man, he was a simple creature. Praise for his cock and general sexual prowess was definitely good stuff for his ego.

  Bu
t as he sank into her, as her snug heat squeezed his length, baser instincts pushed pride and ego out of the way. He had one job now—to make her come again. To service her in an effort to claim her, if only for a night. To prove himself worthy of her.

  Worship through pleasure.

  Dirty, carnal adoration.

  He clutched her hips and thrust into her, shallow at first, then deeper. She liked it slow and hard, he discovered. Good.

  He reached around her hip, pressing his weight into her back, and found her clit with his two middle fingers. She jerked in his arms as he filled her again, pushing her into his fingers as he bottomed out. “Yes?”

  “Do that again,” she breathed.

  He did, pressing into her harder with each thrust, until he was pinning her to the bed and she was writhing against his hand.

  “More?”

  “Yes.”

  “Harder?”

  “God, yes.”

  “Faster?”

  She cried out and he took that for the yes he so desperately wanted. He pushed his legs against the bed and let loose the animal inside him that wanted to mark its claim on this woman.

  He felt her climax start, deep inside her, and he buried his face in her back as he chased his own release. He wanted to bury himself inside her clenching pussy and never come up for air. This was everything he needed.

  His balls pulled tight and darkness tinged his vision as their sweat-slicked bodies moved together, pushing and pulling in a crazed unison that couldn’t be choreographed.

  And when he came, he came hard. Like a shotgun blast. Fucking perfect.

  He held himself inside her until the last twitchy aftershock faded, then he rolled onto his back and dealt with the condom.

  She stayed right where she was, face buried in the blanket, but she lifted her head a bit when he stroked his fingers gently down her spine.

  “I needed that.”

  He smiled. “Me, too.”

  She rolled onto her side and gave him a curious look. “Yeah?”

  He knew she wasn’t being nosy, but rule number one of using sex as an escape was not explaining what he needed the break from. “Might need it again, sooner than later.”

  She smiled. “Excellent to hear.”

  “How do you want to do this…if we’re going to use rope, I’m assuming you want to be careful about when and where.”

  She nodded. “Thank you for getting that.”

  “Not at all. Discretion is my middle name.” In fact, that gave him an idea. “One of my tasks this week is to rig up security at the plantation. It’s going to have a couple of different purposes—real security, for one thing. But we’re also going to use the system for observing our students. So I’ll need to test run the camera setup as I design each block of lessons.”

  “Film is a hard limit for me,” she said, caution radiating off her.

  He knew that. Silly girl. He rolled into her, then onto her, pressing her into the bed with his body weight. “I know. What I’m trying to say is…I’ll know where the blind corners are. And we can use the system to our advantage. Have lots of warning should anyone arrive at the estate from any direction.”

  “Oh.” Her breath caught as she gazed up at him. “I like that idea a lot.”

  “I thought you would.”

  “So you like the idea of setting up some covert play dates?”

  She rocked up against him. She was slick and wet for him again. “Yes,” she said breathlessly as he reached for a condom.

  “And what about regular dates?” Was he pushing his luck? He didn’t care. Reckless desire had served him well so far tonight.

  She reached between them and helped him find her entrance. She bit her lip as he slid into her again.

  “Arielle,” he groaned.

  She wrapped her arms around him and lifted her mouth to his ear. “Yes. Real dates…I want those, too.”

  ELEVEN

  SHE WOKE UP THE NEXT MORNING TO A THANK-YOU-FOR-THE-CRAZY-HOT-SEX TEXT.

  That was a first. Brayden was both a gentleman and delightfully filthy.

  She also woke up late, having apparently hit snooze three times too many, and it was only the different chime for the text message that dragged her from her looping dream of Brayden going down on her in the living room.

  She threw herself into the shower and grabbed coffee and a pastry at the bakery on the way to school. Breakfast didn’t actually get consumed until the ten-minute break between first and second period, which meant her thank-you reply to his thank-you text didn’t get sent until lunch time.

  Arielle: Last night was definitely my pleasure. Repeatedly. So much so I slept in this morning!

  Brayden: Were you late?

  Arielle: No. Made it just before the first bell. Your text got me up, actually.

  Brayden: I should make that up to you. Dinner on Wednesday?

  Arielle: Sounds perfect. Can’t wait.

  It also meant she had two days to recover. A night with Brayden was better than a double cardio class at the gym, although it also came with some interesting side effects. She was pretty sure she had beard burn on her thighs.

  ~

  The next morning she had another text.

  Brayden: This is your wake-up call.

  Arielle: I’m up.

  Brayden: Are you a morning person?

  Arielle: Yes?

  Brayden: The question mark pretty much guarantees that you aren’t.

  Arielle: I am if I go to bed early enough. I’m an eight-hours-a-night kind of girl.

  Brayden: I will take that under advisement.

  Arielle: It’s worth it if the sex is hot enough.

  Brayden: So the other night…

  Arielle: Stop fishing for compliments.

  But once she got up and organized for the day—with plenty of time, thanks to the wake-up text—she reached for her phone.

  Arielle: Totally worth it. Best sex of my life.

  Brayden: And we haven’t even gotten to the rope yet.

  A fact she was most definitely aware of.

  Arielle: And when might we have a chance to do that?

  Brayden: I think Mick and Cara are going to church on Sunday.

  Arielle: They’ll have to go every Sunday until the wedding if they want the minister to marry them.

  Brayden: That sounds like a standing date to blaspheme together, don’t you think?

  Arielle: I really do. Yes. Oh, yes.

  Brayden: And tomorrow night, we’ll be civilized.

  Arielle: I’m sure we can find a way to secretly be depraved, too.

  Brayden: I’m counting on it.

  TWELVE

  FLOWERS WERE SUCH A HIT-OR-MISS THING WITH WOMEN.

  Brayden was in town, running down his to-do list. He had a lead on a contractor who was leaving for a year and had a boatload of tools to off-load. There were a few empty storefronts on the main drag for possible renting. He followed up on both of those. Then there was the personal to-do list: impress a woman who was allergic to charm.

  He stopped in front of a small flower stand just off the market. There were birds of paradise and orchids up front, but they would both be trying too hard. He moved under the awning and smiled at the woman trimming leaves off stems at a wooden table in the middle.

  “Can I help you?” she asked in heavily accented English.

  “I’m looking for flowers, for a woman. Something delicate, but strong, and not too showy.”

  “Do you have a color preference?” She tipped her head sideways.

  “Not red. Something light. Yellow or white, maybe.”

  She nodded. “I have just the thing.” She moved to a stack of buckets and pulled from the center one a small bundle of pale yellow blooms that faded to pink at the edges. The stalk and leaves were crisp dark green. “Allamanda”, she said. “Will they do?”

  They were perfect. He handed over some money and took the bouquet.

  He put the bouquet on the passenger seat for the drive bac
k to the villa, but stashed it in the back when he ran into the bunkhouse to shower and change. He didn’t need Mick and Cara knowing the extent to which he was into Arielle.

  Whatever was happening between them was private.

  That instinct proved prescient for how their dinner conversation unfolded.

  He picked her up at her place. She liked the flowers. She liked the hello kiss even more.

  He couldn’t help it. She’d opened the door wearing a bright red dress that ended perilously high on her thighs, and all of his gentlemanly thoughts went straight out the window.

  “Hello,” she said with a smile, stepping back to let him in.

  He leaned in and brushed his mouth against hers as he pressed the flowers into her her hand. “These are for you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “And as soon as you put them down, I want the extended version of that kiss.”

  She grinned and wiggled her fingers, gesturing for him to follow her into the kitchen. She filled a vase and safely stowed the flowers in the water, then spun around and stretched her arms out wide, tracing her fingers along the counter edge. “How extended?”

  He crowded right up against her. “I’m going to make you wait until after dinner to come.”

  “Okay.” She tilted her head back, surrendering to his lips, and he took the welcome from friendly to X-rated as fast as he could.

  She felt so damn good in his arms. Sexy and lush, her hips wide and her legs strong, but the rest of her so damn petite it made him want to carry her to the bed and devour her.

  She didn’t let go of the counter, but he still slid his hands up her body, tracing her curves up to her face, where he cupped her cheeks in his hands and held her still for his onslaught of kisses.

  She tasted sweet and clean, eager and pliant. Ready for whatever he wanted to do to her, with her, and that willingness made him so hard it hurt.