Saving the Seal: A BWWM Navy Seal Interracial Romance (15 page)

“Hm?” He gestured for Eddie to sit before he placed his plate and the remains upon it on the floor for the dog’s devouring.

“I…I have something I have to tell you.”

Immediately, Owen’s piercing green gaze rose to her own and held for a long moment. His expression became solemn, and she would have given anything in the world to know what he was thinking at that exact moment. He seemed to hesitate before he answered her. “Actually, I have something I wanted to talk about too.” He spared Eddie a glance to make sure the dog wasn’t trying to devour the plate his spaghetti was on. Rising from his chair, Owen rounded the table to tower over her before gently urging her from her seat. “But, we can talk after.”

Genevieve’s mouth turned downward in a frown of confusion. “After wh-“

Her inquiry was cut short when his mouth came down atop hers, effectively burning away her apprehension. Tugging her against him, Owen cupped her face, deepening the kiss so his tongue slid sinuously against her own. Without thinking, Genny rose her hands to encircle his neck, arching against the hard column of his body as need rushed through her.

He was right. There was no rush.

Now, she wanted him –
needed
him inside her. It was a much better option, at any rate, than possibly breaking his heart.

When Owen lifted her onto the table, sweeping aside the remains of their dinner with a brawny arm, Genny wrapped a leg around his waist, drawing him against her so she could feel the proof of his desire for her. By this point, she must have had him hundreds of times…and she never tired of it.

Owen was a man who knew what he wanted in the bedroom; and he didn’t ask for it. He took it. It didn’t hurt that the man was powerful enough from the years he spent as a SEAL that he could toss her around – hold her aloft while he took her in the shower and carry her around the house like it was absolutely nothing. Genevieve had always been somewhat self-conscious of the curves her genetics afforded her, but with Owen, they mattered little.

He worshipped her breasts, adored her thighs and was obsessed with her behind. Now, his hands curved into her ass, hefting her against him as he groaned against the line of her neck and shoulder. He created a series of scalding marks with his mouth until he worked his way down to the hollow of her throat, his tongue dipping briefly inside. Genevieve moaned, her toes curling as he stripped the shirt she wore up and off over her head. It flew across the table to land on a very surprised Eddie’s head, but neither of them paid any heed.

In mere seconds, Owen had her breasts freed from her bra and was worshipping them with his lips and tongue. He captured an aching peak between his teeth, drawing upon it until she gasped, shuddering in pleasure. Her fingers slid through his hair, sliding against his scalp as he made her squirm in anticipation.

When his fingers found the button of her pencil skirt, she all but begged him to remove it. This, of course, required her to unwrap her legs from his waist, and the moment she did, the garment was off – to where, exactly, she didn’t know. Nor did she care. When she was clad only in her panties, Owen paused to look over her. His entrancing green eyes took in every inch of her bared flesh, and unlike she had done weeks ago, Genevieve covered nothing. She let him look his fill, reveling in the primal hunger in his gaze.

“You’re fucking gorgeous, you know that?” His low murmur drew a humoring smile from her.

“So you’ve told me.”

“Have I?” His hands slid under her thighs as he lifted her against him to fuse his mouth to hers, their tongues tangling ravenously. Hefting her easily, Owen moved down the hall towards the bedroom, even as the woman worked hurriedly at the laces of his sweatpants. By this time, Eddie more than knew to stay put during his master’s antics, and merely lay down on the kitchen floor, content, for the moment, with his belly full of spaghetti.

In the bedroom, Owen lay Genny back against the pillows, his mouth lowering once more to burn a trail down her torso. The dark-haired young woman gasped, arching as his tongue once more laved her nipples with moisture before moving ever lower. When her fingers sought his dark curls, the man caught both of her wrists in a single hand, holding them captive as his other moved aside the damp, lacy material of her underwear.

When his breath fell against her, Genevieve squirmed, trying vainly to free her hands from his grip, but he prevented her. He’d once commented that her nails were too long for him to give her free reign, and now, whenever she got a little too enthusiastic, he pinned them.

To say the least, she tended to become
quite
enthusiastic when the man put his mouth to her.

Owen made no pretense. His mouth fastened over her clit at the same time that two fingers slid deep within her clenching passage. Genevieve cried out, her hips arching against his mouth – even though his hold on her hands prevented her from going too far. God, the things he did with his devilish tongue were sublime. Genevieve’s thighs quivered in sensation as the slick muscle flicked sinuously at the nub of her pleasure, even as Owen’s fingers curled upward within her to stimulate a spot that drew a ragged scream from her.

If that wasn’t enough, the man made the most sinful sounds – growling and moaning against her as if she were the most decadent thing he’d ever tasted. When he pressed against that secret spot within her, suckling at her clit sharply, Genevieve came apart. She sobbed his name, her hips bucking as she came powerfully against his eager lips.

While she was still coming down from the all-encompassing high, she felt Owen positioning himself at her entrance. The man had hardly tugged down his sweatpants enough to expose the throbbing length of his erection, and when it touched the drenched folds of her, Genevieve gasped.

Yes.
She lived for this.

Owen’s hungry gaze met her own, and the sight of his mouth glistening with her climax was as beautiful as any she could ever hope to see. “Say it, Genevieve.”

The demand made her shiver. Every time since the first time, he made her admit that she had given herself to him. That she belonged to him. Now, she realized it was truer than ever before. “I’m yours, Owen.” She moaned softly. “
Please.”

“Damn straight.” He groaned, burying his face in her shoulder before thrusting home with a force that wrung a lingering cry from her lips. Wrapping her arms and legs around him, Genevieve took him as deep as she possibly could. The man who had changed her entire world – who had challenged everything she’d ever known about herself and the way she saw the world.

As his hips moved against hers, fucking her, taking her,
loving her
, she prayed that it might never end. Their breaths mingled in the cool air of the bedroom and their sweat mingled. She felt every ridge and valley of his form against hers and she knew that she had found the place she belonged above all others.

She came for the second time that night at the feel of Owen jerking against her, filling her with his seed so that she trembled with the sensation.

Whispering her name, Owen went limp against her, a warm, welcome weight upon her sweat-slick body that she wished she could indulge forever. Genevieve relaxed her hold on him, running her fingers back and forth over the length of his spine as she basked in the sated peace of her completion.

Slowly, their bodies cooled, and eventually, Owen lifted himself from her. He rolled onto his side with a breath, reaching up to brush a few messy curls from her face. He kissed her softly – lingeringly, before drawing back to fix her with an expression she couldn’t read. “Now…what did you want to talk to me about?”

Almost immediately, her worries flooded back to the forefront of her mind, threatening to swamp her with their intensity. Genevieve, however, refused to indulge them. Instead, she merely forced herself to voice what was on her mind – her greatest fear.

“Owen….Riperton…my office…they’ve put you on some kind of timeline.” The words fell from her mouth in a tumble, all her carefully laid plans forgotten. “I’ve been trying to think of some way to tell you, but it’s never sounded right. They want you back…active. The trial was six months from the time they received you as a patient.” She paused, every muscle in her body taut as she waited for his reaction.

To her surprise, however, Owen didn’t look shocked. On the contrary, the resolve on his face was startling. He then opened his mouth to say the last thing she’d ever been expecting. “I know they want me back, Genevieve.”

The young woman’s eyes widened in incredulity, her heart beginning to race as he went on. “Sean has always wanted me back…but he’s never pressed me. Things have always been on my terms, and they still are.” Owen paused, his an unreadable emotion flickering in his eyes before he continued. “They’ve found the ISIS cell that attacked me and my unit. The people that killed my men. And they want me to go after them.”

For a moment, Genevieve was too shocked to speak.

Not only did the admiral want Owen to return to active duty, he’d already planned a mission for him? A
revenge
mission? It was like a scene out of her deepest, darkest nightmares. There was no way Owen was ready for something like that. Though the mission might be in the guise of revenge, it wouldn’t be the last one they’d send him on.

Wouldn’t be the last way they would use him.

Genevieve had no idea what kind of perverse deal Kant had made with the admiral, but she was sure they hadn’t had Owen’s best interests in mind. They’d known how long it would take to rehabilitate him, and they’d counted on her being unable to meet their deadline.

“You can’t possibly be thinking of going?”

Her voice came out a hoarse whisper. Owen’s gaze hardened before he sat up, the coverlet sliding down to pool about his waist. “Genevieve, you understand how important this is for me. I’ve being given an opportunity to avenge my men.”

“This isn’t
about
revenge, Owen.” She rebutted sharply, her ire raising. “It can’t be. Not until you’ve come to terms with what you lost.”

“I
shouldn’t
have lost them!” The man’s reply came back harshly, his green eyes blazing with pain. “They should be alive! Now their murderers are going to answer for their crimes!”

“Owen…” Genevieve very rarely lost her temper and she wasn’t going to now. Owen was hurting, and of course those who conspired against him now dangled before him the thing he wanted most in the entire cosmos. “You need to understand: The admiral and my supervisor at the hospital had some kind of meeting about you. Doctor Kant told me that if I didn’t sign off on your clearance at the end of six months…that I’d lose my job. That we’d lose some of our funding for the psychiatric rehabilitation system. This isn’t about you. They don’t
care.
Somehow, there’s money involved-“

“So you’re saying you won’t sign my clearance.” Owen’s tone was low, hurt, when he interrupted her, his green gaze confused. “Genevieve, I’m fine. I’m sleeping at night. The sleep paralysis is gone-”

“Owen, this is only the beginning! There’s so much more we need to work on. Things like this aren’t a quick fix! How can I sign something that might put you in danger?” She took a deep breath, her chest tight at the look of betrayal on his face. “No. I
can’t
sign it.”

For a moment, silence hung heavily between them. Owen’s gaze never left hers. The agony she saw there was almost her undoing. He looked almost as desolate as the night she’d first come to him – first
given
herself to him. She
had
to make him understand that he was being manipulated. She didn’t want to hurt him – but he hadn’t come far enough in his treatment to comprehend that some of his symptoms disappearing didn’t mean the end of his troubles. “Owen,
please
.” She begged softly. “You have to refuse them. They can’t
make
you do anything you don’t want to. You have to show them that-“

“You’re
selfish
, Genevieve.” Owen’s statement made her mouth snap shut as she stared at him in complete disbelief. For a moment, she thought she’d misheard him – but that doubt was very quickly allayed. “You’ve just told me that you could save your department – that you could give me the chance to avenge my men just by signing your name to a piece of paper – and you won’t. Do you even consider anything other than your blind devotion to ‘the treatment’? Don’t you think that some people might get better quicker than others? That your way isn’t always the best way?” Owen’s expression grew darker and darker as he continued, each of his words finding their mark with the sharpness of a well-whet dagger. “You’re going to pull funding from a department that other people need…that other people could use, just because you don’t
think
I’m ready. Because you see me as some kind of child that needs your guidance.”

What the hell was he saying? Genevieve stared at him helplessly, her stomach tied in knots. This wasn’t the Owen she knew. Not this cold, cruel man who made accusations he knew to be untrue. Slowly, she shook her head. “Owen, don’t. You have to see past this. You’re making a mistake.”

He was tearing her apart. Both with his malicious words and with his inability to see past his desire to avenge those he couldn’t yet let go. However, even as she begged him to reconsider, she could see from the firm set of his mouth – from the dullness in his gaze – that he had already shut her out.