Page 13 of Ex-SEAL Bad Boy

I run my nails lightly along his back over the fabric of his shirt, urging him on. “Umm, baby, yes,” I purr, “Oh, just like that.”

I clutch at his expensive polo, awkwardly trying to pull it off him despite the fact that his head is still buried in my chest. I finally manage to get it over his head, forcing him to break off his attention.

He shakes his hair out and gives me a sly grin.

Gently pushing me back, he lies down beside me, propping himself up on one elbow, and uses his index finger to lightly trace intricate figures on my leg, starting at my knee and moving ever higher.

My anticipation grows as he moves upward, higher and higher, dragging the hem of my dress up with his hand.

This is so much more tender than my dream. I never imagined he could be this gentle and caring.

My breath catches in my throat as his fingertip grazes a particularly sensitive part of my inner thigh.

He catches my reaction and looks up at me, his eyes flashing in the moonlight.

His touch finds the crease between my thigh and pubic mound, causing me to jump.

He switches tactics, beginning to describe small circles around my most sacred place, never quite touching it, his hands barely skimming over the surface of my pink bikini panties.

By now, I’m squirming, wordlessly begging him to just get it over with and fuck me.

As if sensing my need, he shifts his position and gently lifts the hem of my skirt, bunching it around my waist.

Hooking his fingers around the waistband of my panties he pulls them down and whisks them around my ankles, dropping them beside me.

I fully expect him to satiate the raging fire inside me, but he’s not finished just yet.

His mouth replaces his fingers, his tongue running along my slit, as I clutch his head, my fingers entwined in his hair.

His teeth nip at my clit, just enough to draw strangled yelps from deep within my throat.

God, I can’t take any more of this!

Once again, seemingly sensing my need, he removes his pants and shorts, earning me a much-needed reprieve, no matter how brief.

He climbs between my legs and slides into me, slowly, almost achingly as I savor the sensation like I would a fine wine.

Our lips meet again.

He isn’t particularly large, but he fits just perfectly as if we were molded specifically for each other.

This is what I needed, what I deserve. I don’t feel the need to apologize to myself.

He picks up his rhythm, fucking me with a slow and steady pace as the sea oats scattered along the dunes sway in the breeze. This was nothing like my first time in the sand.

He seems to know exactly what I want. Sometimes a woman wants it rough and hard, other times, especially when you’re just getting to know someone, you want it gentle and loving.

A familiar tingle begins to creep into my belly and down my thighs. I want it to last, to have it build.

I thrust back at him, matching his pace. A rush of sensations builds inside me, ready to burst forth. My breathing grows ragged.

“Ooo, yeah, Ethan, like that. Fuck me, baby. Make me come.”

He kisses me deeply again, quickening his pace. “Fuck yeah,” he groans, “gonna come.”

A kaleidoscope explodes in my head, a million colors bursting simultaneously. It is without a doubt the most intense climax I ever experienced, juices gushing forth and soaking the blanket.

Ethan isn’t far behind, now grunting deeply with every thrust. “Oh, yeah,” he cries as his own orgasm overtakes him.

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