Page 29 of Nanny for the SEALs

I couldn’t help but swear at him. Every time I did it, the more he thrust against me. We worked together, our bodies finally allowed to do as we’d wanted to do all along. The desire had always been there, from the moment I’d laid eyes on him, a tension that we’d ignored but it would be ignored no more.

I was so close to going off the deep end, so close to coming all around his dick. Pete used his thumb on my clit again, and I finally fell over into that world where only we existed, nothing but him and me.

I sighed his name as I faded into the dark world of ecstasy. I was nothing but pleasure and sparks in the dark as he continued to ride me, continued to stroke me higher.

My mouth dropped open as I tried to whisper his name again, to beg him to join me, but I couldn’t make a sound, all there was in the world was the total mind-fuck of Pete fucking me.

He didn’t stop, he continued to thrust deep and hard into me, trying to catch up to me, and I felt him pulse deep inside of me. I could only hold on, as he sent me into a third, and then a fourth wave, longer than any I’d had before, stronger than anything I’d ever felt.

I held him when we came back down to reality, my legs boneless and open wide to accommodate him where he rested over me. He kept most of his weight on his elbows so he wouldn’t crush me. When we finally caught our breath, he rolled away, tossing the condom as if it was a piece of trash, one that he couldn’t get ready to get rid of.

“There I was thinking you’re so sweet and innocent.”

I looked up, thinking he had the complete wrong prospective of me. This was why he was hesitant—it had nothing to do with being a nanny or even Stan, more to the fact they had the completely wrong idea.

“I lost my dad, and I’ve been in and out of a narcissist relationship. Sure, I haven’t been on the field or suffered loss like you have, but it doesn’t mean I’m innocent or a delicate flower.”

He nodded. “You’re right. You’re more than a flower; you’re like a cactus.”

I hit him. “Hey, cactuses are so fucking ugly.”

“You, my dear, are far from ugly.”

“Exactly!”

“I think I’m going to have to fuck you again to figure out what plant or flower you resemble.”

As tired as I was, and I should have told him to give me a break, but I didn’t want to protest. After all, I just told him that I was a strong cookie, and I was a woman of my word in and out of the sheets.

---