Navy SEALs Complete Series: 3 Books + 3 Novellas (Tempting Navy SEALs) (17 page)

She stared back at him defiantly as he stopped within inches of her, watching her with narrowed eyes, feeling the waves of anger and desire that whipped around him.

“You’re mine.” He kept his voice low as he watched her lips tighten in anger.

“And it took a knife at my neck to convince you of that?” She snorted derisively. “Oh really, Clint. You’re just horny. Did the redhead turn you on a little too much? I can’t believe you would dare to try to touch me after having that bimbo on your lap.

Brilliant points of light fed into the stormy gaze now, the phenomenon mesmerizing him for long minutes. He believed she just might be more pissed than he originally thought.

“She’s an agent, Morganna,” he reminded her. “That was the role. Remember?”

“As though she convinced anyone she needed to be drugged to fuck,” Morganna sneered. “She was so ready to do you it was pathetic. And you were encouraging her.” She threw it at him as though the sin were of blasphemous proportions.

She was jealous. Furiously jealous. And seeing it did nothing to still his lust and his need as it would have with any other woman. Instead, if possible, his cock grew harder, his hunger for her rising.

“I’ll encourage you harder,” he offered. “Come and sit on my knee, Morganna. Let’s see if you can show me how it’s supposed to be done.”

“You bastard!”

He saw her arm move, the upswing of her tight little fist, and held himself still. He could have caught her barreling fist, could have stopped the impact of it before it connected with the side of his lips.

But he didn’t. The sharp sting caused him to flinch, but he didn’t break eye contact with her. His fingers snapped around her wrist when she drew back, and he watched as shock rounded her eyes, drew the color from her face.

Holding her gaze, he lifted his free hand and wiped the thin trail of blood from the corner of his mouth. He glanced at his fingers, seeing the dark smear across them before he stared back at her.

She gasped as the same finger touched her lips, pressing inside her mouth. Her tongue curled over it, a shiver washing over her as a startled, breathless little cry vibrated from her lips. He brought her fist to his lips then, his tongue licking over the smear of the blood that stained her fragile fingers.

“Kiss it and make it better now,” he growled, jerking her to him, feeling the demon of lust that rode his back howling out in hunger as her body came flush with his. “We’ll both make it better.”

Morganna met Clint’s lips halfway, a cry of hunger and desperation leaving her throat as they came together. It wasn’t an easy kiss. It wasn’t a gentle kiss. As though the fear of losing him and the aching loss she had dealt with as she left his truck hours before coalesced into a driving, burning conflagration that overtook her mind.

A haze of red filled her vision, even though her eyes were closed. Brilliant pinpricks of color exploded behind her closed lids as dizzying sensations ripped through her mind.

“I can’t be around you without craving your taste,” he muttered against her lips. “Dying for you, a little bit at a time. Dying to taste and touch . . . Sweet God, Morganna, you make me crazy for you.”

His voice was dark and heavy with emotion. Tormented. Filled with need and hunger. A need and hunger that rose inside her, matching his for desperation and intensity as his lips covered hers once again.

His kiss was a marauder intent on submission, and submission had never been Morganna’s strong suit. Especially with Clint.

As his lips controlled hers, she was well aware they were controlling her, his tongue moving past hers in well-timed thrusts that mimicked a pleasure her body was rioting for.

His fingertips touched her jaw as he groaned against her lips. Touching her with a gentle, hesitant caress that reinforced the dominance of his kiss.

She nipped at his tongue, only to have his hand cup beneath her chin, his fingers gripping her jaws and holding them open. Oh, she loved that. The forceful domination blew her mind.

He growled into the kiss, the animalistic, primal sound
sending shivers racing down her back as her nails raked over his shoulders while she squirmed against him, bucking in his arms in an attempt to be free of him. She wanted to touch him, devour him. Standing still and in a haze of pleasure beneath his kiss was all very well and good, but she had waited years for this. Fantasized about it. Ached for it. She wanted more than her own submission.

“Stay still. God. Easy, baby . . .” he panted as his hips pressed her against the wall, and leaned back to grab her wrists and shackle them over her head. “Leave me a little self-control here.”

“Like hell.” She nipped at his lips as they lowered, the swollen sensuality of them making her want to devour them. He had stripped her of her self-control; why should she leave him any?

“I’m going to paddle your ass if you keep this up.” His eyes were glittering with lust, his voice thick with it as he stared down at her.

His hands were like manacles on her wrists as she glared back at him, or tried to glare back at him. It was hard to glare when she could feel her juices literally dripping between her thighs and the love she felt for him weakening her knees. God, she loved him. Loved him until she felt seared from the emotion.

“You and whose army?” she taunted with a smug, mocking smile. “Don’t make threats, big boy, that you can’t uphold.”

She was dying to feel his hand on her ass. He had been threatening to spank her since she was eighteen years old, and she had fantasized about it just as long.

His eyes narrowed on her as his chest moved harshly with his breathing. She was panting. She was certain someone was limiting the amount of oxygen in the room.

“I should have packed the ball gag in that damned duffel I brought, instead of the butt plug.” A sensual smile tugged at his lips just before his tongue licked over hers. “That would have shut you up.”

Her vagina convulsed so heavily, she was certain she was going to orgasm right there on the spot.

“Bring a toy to do a man’s job, did you?” She bucked in his arms again.

His rough chuckle was wickedly sensual and set her soul on fire. This was how she had dreamed of him. Sexually dominant, allowing her to challenge him, defy him, and taking pleasure in the game.

“Preparation is everything, baby.” He crooned, “And trust me, tonight, you’ll find out exactly why the hell I didn’t take you up on your very charming offer when you were eighteen.”

There was no time for a comeback. Before she could do more than squeak in surprise, he picked her up against his chest, strode into the bedroom, and tossed her onto the mattress.

“Take off the shirt,” he ordered her roughly as he jerked the duffel bag to the edge of the bed and pulled the zipper on it, removing several items from it that had her flushing in aroused embarrassment. The tapered sexual toy and tube of lubrication had her blood pressure skyrocketing as well as a small spurt of concern. It just wasn’t possible that she could accommodate that thing where no toy had gone before.

“In your dreams.” She crouched on the bed, staring back at him as she swiped back the long curls that fell over her face.

She felt empowered. Utterly sensual. Staring back at Clint, seeing the naked hunger and intensity of emotion raging in his eyes, Morganna knew that all their battles had merely been foreplay to this.

His smile as he moved for her proved it. Before Morganna could evade him, Clint gripped the hem of the T-shirt, wrestling it from her as she screeched in outrage.

“Arrogant ass,” she accused as he moved back, disposing of his pants just as quickly.

Within seconds he was naked, bronzed flesh rippling over
powerful muscles as his hand lowered to the stalk of his erection, his fingers stroking over
it
slowly as he stared down at her.

“That is just so not right,” she panted, her eyes widening at the sight of the gold ball ring that pierced the underside of his cock, just beneath the thickly flared crest.

God, he was pierced. That was just so wicked.

Her mouth watered to taste him as his fingers gripped the little ring, tugging at it teasingly as the head of his erection pulsed and darkened with arousal. A little bead of pre-come glistened on the tip, tempting her as she licked her lips in hunger.

Staring at the flushed, heavily veined flesh, Morganna was distracted just enough, just for the few precious seconds Clint needed to catch her off guard. Before she could do more than gasp in outrage, he moved, gripping her waist and flipping her to her stomach a second before his hand landed on her rear.

“Damn you!” That felt too good. She was not into that submissive spanking-master stuff, she assured herself, but the sharp little tap to her buttock sent pulses of heat and pleasure rushing through her.

“Stay still.” Clint’s voice was harsh, hoarse. “God help me, Morganna, I don’t know if I can wait.”

He pulled her hips up, back, as she braced herself on the mattress and tried to crawl away from him. She was not going to make this easy for him.

“Enough!” One broad hand gripped her hip, holding her in place as his knees bracketed hers.

He shackled her in place. Sort of. She knew she should have been fighting him harder, but the feel of his heavily lubricated fingers moving through the cleft of her rear had her stilling in shock.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Preparation.” She felt the fiery probing of his fingertip against the forbidden entrance and jerked in reflex. She could
feel her heart pounding between her breasts in excitement, stealing her breath.

“Clint . . .” She could feel her flesh tightening, stretching around the width of his finger.

“Stay still. Just a minute. . . .” The sudden impalement was shockingly heated, wicked. Carnal.

Slick, cool, his finger slid back, only to be replaced by a second. Shocked lust seared her, as though the tiny prick of burning pleasure were a narcotic.

Her hands fisted in the coverlet as she tried to move, bucking against his hold, the breath strangling in her chest as he held her in place, slowly working his fingers inside her, stretching her, burning.

She should say no. She should protest. She knew she should. She struggled in his grip, but his hand tightened on her hip as his knees held her legs in place. The forceful dominance was more arousing than she could have ever imagined.

“This is depraved.” She jerked against him, crying out at the fiery pleasure as the impalement increased. She bucked against him, fighting to free herself, knowing all she had to do was say no, but unable to push the word past her lips.

She wanted to fight him, she realized. She wanted the challenge, the defiance, the loss of control she knew he was experiencing.

“God, the way you stretch around my fingers,” he groaned, retreating from her rear, only to return, stretching her further as the cool lubrication eased his way. “I’m going to take you here, Morganna. Eventually. When you’re ready. When I have enough control. Until then, you’ll have this.”

She tried to breathe as his fingers retreated, expecting to feel a more normal caress, a touch to her aching, saturated sex, a heavy thrust into her aching vagina. What she felt instead was the cool tapered end of the thick-based toy he had jerked out of his pack earlier.

“Clint, this is so perverted,” she panted as she twisted in
his grip, crying out at the extremity of the sensations tearing through her.

He didn’t pause. He made no allowances for the untouched condition of the tiny entrance; he pressed the toy inside her firmly, stretching her with it, sending flames of pleasure so intense it bordered pain, flaring through her body.

It shouldn’t feel so good. It shouldn’t burn inside her with the force of a wildfire ripping over her nerve endings. Stealing every vestige of control she had ever possessed.

“Take it, baby,” he growled, working the shaft in with deep, careful strokes despite her struggles. “God yes, open for me, Morganna, just as I’ve dreamed.”

She screamed as the thickly flared bottom popped inside her anus, the narrower portion at the base locking it inside her. Her upper body collapsed to the bed as she fought to accustom herself to the heavy invasion a second before a deep vibration began to ripple through it.

It was vibrating, massaging the delicate, pleasure-tormented cavity as she writhed with a pleasure so intense she was fighting in earnest to crawl from him now, whimpering at the sensations breaking over her, tearing through her senses as the destructive pleasure-pain tore loose any previous concepts of passion she had ever known.

“Easy, baby.” Clint turned her to her back, spreading her thighs before him as he lay between them, holding her in place as he stared up at her.

She cried out, even as her hand locked in his hair, holding him in place. “I can’t stand it, Clint.”

His hands were ruthless, holding her thighs open, pressing her to the bed, refusing her the need to curl away from him, to accustom herself to the dark pleasure enveloping her.

She had never been invaded anally before. Had never known pleasure and pain could ride so close together.

He didn’t answer her plea. Instead, his head lowered, his tongue swiping through the drenched center of her body before lapping at her like a man starved. Over her clitoris,
around it, tormenting the already-tortured entrance to her pussy as she pulled at his hair. The vibration in her rear was sending hard, electric pulses of sensation up her spine, into her sex. She was stretched on a rack of sensation so intense she wasn’t certain she could survive it.

This was Clint. Touching her. Taking her places she had never imagined with an extremity that canceled reality.

“God, you taste good.” His voice was savage, intent, as he suddenly moved from her.

“Don’t stop!” Her eyes flared open, desperation tightening her fingers in his hair as they tried to force him back to the weeping flesh burning for his touch.

Clint pulled her hands from his hair. He came over her instead, stretching her arms above her as her fingers formed claws, her hips churning beneath him until she felt his cock, hot, fierce, pressing into her.