Getting Hotter (17 page)

When his gaze rested on her nipples, they hardened in response, her breasts growing hot and achy. Seth didn’t say a word as he stared at her chest. He didn’t say a word when he slid his fingers through her long, damp hair. Didn’t say a word as he slowly leaned closer. Or when his other hand traveled up her body, avoiding her breasts and coming up to touch her cheek.

The room was completely silent save for their breathing, hers slightly unsteady, his a soft hiss. Miranda couldn’t take her eyes off his mouth. She wanted to kiss him so badly she could taste him.

“Seth,” she whispered.

“What is it, baby? What do you want?”

“I…”

His voice was gruff. “I promised you this would be on your terms. Tell me what you want me to do.”

“No,” she blurted out.

A frown puckered his brow. “No?”

“I don’t want to be in control,” she confessed. “I’m
always
in control, and I don’t like it. So I’m giving you back the control you relinquished. Take it back, okay?”

His mouth quirked in a faint smile. “You sure about that?”

She nodded.

The smile widened, becoming downright predatory. “Okay, then,” he said, and then he cradled the back of her head and pulled her mouth down for a hard, reckless kiss.

Miranda gasped, unprepared for the erotic assault, unable to do much more than hold on for the ride. His tongue plunged into her mouth without invitation, so greedy, so dominant, each hungry thrust making her moan with abandon.

The kiss grew hotter and hotter, their tongues dueling and breaths mingling. She laid both palms flat on his chest, steadying herself, feeling the rapid beating of his heart beneath her hands. The evidence of his excitement only heightened her own.

Her eyelids fluttered open when Seth abruptly broke the kiss.

“C’mere, baby, let’s show you what you’ve been missing these past seven years,” he drawled.

Before she could blink, he’d flipped her onto her back. He lay next to her on his side, propped up on an elbow, his free hand closing over her breast. A zing of arousal bounced from her chest right down to her sex.

“I love these tits,” he murmured as he squeezed one, then the other. “I’ve been fantasizing about them for months.”

His seductive touch made her shiver. “You have?”

“Mmm-hmmm. I’ve jacked off while thinking of them. Several times.”

Heat jolted through her. “Really?”

Chuckling, he feathered his thumb over one nipple, toying with the rigid bud. “Why do you sound so surprised? I thought I made it pretty fucking clear how much I wanted you.”

“You did. I just…I didn’t think you…um, thought about me once you left the club. Out of sight, out of mind, you know?”

He gave a firm shake of the head. “You’re always on my mind, Miranda. Always.”

Her breath caught, her pulse speeding up. She would’ve liked to hear more about his fantasies, but apparently Seth was done talking because he swiftly lowered his head and captured her nipple between his lips.

Miranda jerked as if she’d been electrocuted. Oh
God
. His mouth was so warm, his tongue wet and insistent as he flicked it over her nipple with absolute precision. If she hadn’t been lying down, she would’ve keeled over. Pleasure rippled through her, pulsing in her breasts and vibrating between her legs.

“Feel good?”

She moaned her approval.

“What about this? Does this feel good too?”

He purposefully trailed his hand down her stomach and over the dark curls of her mound, found her clit and drew a lazy figure eight over it with his index finger.

Miranda almost passed out the second he touched that sensitive nub. Her hips lifted, seeking more contact, her thighs parting of their own volition.

Seth idly rubbed her clit, his gray eyes fixed on her face as if he were assessing her responses. She watched him watch her, but her eyes couldn’t stay focused for long. His delicious ministrations were too distracting.

When he pushed one finger inside her, she cried out, stunned by the shock waves that rocked her body.

Seth immediately stilled, concern crossing his face.

“No, keep going,” she pleaded. “Please. It’s good. It’s so good.”

Pure male arrogance lit up those stormy silver eyes. “Not nearly as good as it could be.”

Before she could question him, he was gone, his big, muscular body all the way at the foot of the bed. He gripped her thighs, holding them open as he brought his face to her pussy and gave it a soft kiss.

She came.

She honest-to-God came from that one featherlight kiss to her clit, from the feel of his hot breath on her damp folds.

Crying out in shocked pleasure, Miranda squeezed her eyes shut while the orgasm ripped through her. Her toes curled, thighs trembled, pulse raced. The climax didn’t last long, just a burst of hot agony and intense bliss, fading as quickly as it arose.

When she opened her eyes, she found Seth looking up at her with unrestrained amusement.

“Can I get started now?” he asked dryly. “Or are you going to spontaneously orgasm again?”

Miranda let out a wheezy laugh, still stunned by the unexpected release that had hit her without warning. “Seven years,
baby
. What did you think would happen?”

His answering laugh, low and husky, made her feel all tingly again. But it was his tongue that transformed the tingling into a wave of exquisite excitement that seized her lower body. He licked her slowly, gently, as if he had all the time in the world. Kissed, swirled, teased. Flattened his tongue and swiped it over her clit, then fastened his mouth on that sensitive bundle of nerves and sucked, his happy groan pulsating in her tender flesh.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he muttered. “I could lick you up for hours.”

He rubbed his lips over her clit, back and forth, back and forth, until she couldn’t take one more second of torment.

She dug her short fingernails into his shoulders, keeping him in place, bringing him closer. His stubble abraded her inner thighs as he worshipped her pussy. She knew she’d have red marks and beard burn all over her skin by the time this night ended, yet the idea of being marked by this man made her body ache even more.

It wasn’t long before the tension began to build again, tightening her muscles, speeding her heartbeat. While he tended to her clit, Seth used the tip of one finger to toy with her. He didn’t push that finger inside, no matter how many times she lifted her ass off the bed trying to deepen the contact. Each time she tried, he just moved the finger away, chuckling even as he continued to lave her clit with his tongue.

“Please,” she whimpered.

He laughed again, removing his mouth from her sex altogether and nuzzling her inner thigh with his stubble-covered cheek.

“Please, Seth. No more teasing.”

His lips traveled along her heated flesh, tongue darting out to taste the honey pooling at her entrance.

Miranda groaned. “Goddammit, Seth. Seven years.”

She felt his powerful body shudder with laughter, heard the husky sounds echoing in the bedroom, but she couldn’t focus on anything but his hot mouth, so close to where she wanted it to be and yet so far away she wanted to scream.

“I’m sorry, babe. I guess I should show you some mercy, huh?”

And then he slid two long fingers into her pussy and clamped his lips over her clit, making her explode in an intense rush of pleasure that ripped through her body and sent her mind spinning into oblivion.

When she finally recovered—who knew how long
that
took—Seth was poised over her, his powerful arms on either side of her head, his erection covered with a condom.

A pang of disappointment tugged at her. She’d wanted to do some exploring of her own. Stroke him, suck him, find out what drove him crazy, but one look at his face and she knew he was on the verge of losing every last bit of the control she’d given back to him. His masculine features were pulled taut, gray eyes glittering with need, teeth biting into his bottom lip.

Without a word, she parted her legs wider and met his eyes.

He responded by easing the head of his cock into her, just an inch.

“You good?” he asked hoarsely.

“Mmm-hmmm.”

He pushed in another inch. They both groaned.

“More,” she breathed.

“I don’t want to be too rough. Seven years, remember?”

His thoughtfulness made her heart skip a beat. But he was worrying for nothing—she was so wet and ready for him that slow and easy was completely unnecessary. To prove it, she lifted her hips, hooked her legs around his lean waist, and joined them together fully.

A curse popped out of Seth’s mouth. “Holy fuck,” he choked out. “God, you’re tight.”

She mentally thanked all those Kegel exercises she’d done after the twins were born. Maybe it was seven years too late, but hey, better late than never.

Seth withdrew, plunged back in, then swore again. “I’m not going to last.”

“I thought SEALs were supposed to have crazy stamina,” she teased.

“We do. But not when we haven’t had sex in two months.” A pained look entered his eyes. “I’m serious, baby, I’ve got two, maybe three strokes in me.”

His honest evaluation of his thrust capacity had her laughing. “Then I guess you’ll just have to make it up to me next time.”

“Next time,” he echoed, more of a question than a statement.

She nodded slowly. “There’ll be a next time, Seth.”

“Thank God.” And then he drove his cock so deep she gasped.

He’d been too hard on himself—he lasted
eight
strokes before he slammed into her one last time and grew still, his low groan signaling his release.

Miranda watched his face as he came, floored by the passion she saw there, the naked pleasure and masculine vulnerability. Seeing him so exposed was strangely thrilling. Seth was always so indifferent, quick to taunt and slow to let down his guard.

When he collapsed on top of her, she stroked his damp back, enjoying the way he nestled his face in the crook of her neck. His facial hair tickled her flesh, his chest hair teasing her nipples, and his heart was beating as fast as hers. It felt nice having him lie on top of her, but he didn’t stay in that position for long.

“I’m crushing you,” he murmured.

They both moaned as his cock slid out. A fresh rush of desire filled Miranda’s body. She watched him remove the condom and drop it on the end table, his strong arms flexing with his every move. Her gaze rested on the tattoo covering his left shoulder and most of his upper arm.

“So what’s the story behind the tattoo on your arm?” she asked, remembering the comment Dylan had made in the kitchen the other day.

Seth sighed as he lay back down and drew the sheet over their naked bodies. “It’s not much of a story. Went to Fiji on my nineteenth birthday with a few other recruits and I met a girl there. She convinced me to get a couple of tattoos. I wanted to get in her pants, so I figured inking up a few body parts was a fair price to pay. So I did my arm and my leg.”

“Then there’s no special meaning behind the designs?”

“Nope. I got ’em because they looked badass.”

She grinned, but she couldn’t contradict him. The tats
did
look badass. Funny, how she was always drawn to men with tattoos. Trent had been covered in them too.

As the thought of her ex floated into her mind, she was suddenly struck by another realization.

“That’s two,” she announced.

Miranda’s matter-of-fact declaration made Seth turn his head in curiosity. He was still trying to recover from that mind-shattering climax, so his brain wasn’t working at full capacity yet. “What’s two?” he asked.

“Lovers. As of right now, I’ve officially had two lovers.”

Surprise filtered into him. “You’re serious? I’m only the second man you’ve slept with?”

His peripheral vision caught her quick nod. Rolling onto his side, he placed his palm on her flat belly and searched her uncomfortable expression. “So there was the father of your kids, a seven-year break, and then…me.”

She nodded again, her mouth curving in a smile. “Does that freak you out?”

“Why would it freak me out?”

“I don’t know. My lack of experience might be a turnoff.”

“Baby, the word
turnoff
doesn’t apply to you.”

Letting out a soft laugh, she shifted so they were lying face to face. Her hand came up to trace the tattoo on his right side, four rows of small black numbers inked right above his hip bone. “What are those dates?”

The question was expected—it always got asked when women saw him naked—but it still evoked that same twinge of discomfort. “Just milestones,” he said, keeping it vague.

“Ah, finally, a tat with meaning. Care to elaborate?”

When he didn’t answer, she ran her fingers over the most recent date. “What happened on May 3, 2009?”

He swallowed the lump that rose in his throat. “That was the first time I saved a life.”