Getting Hotter Page 41

“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 pu**y 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 c**k 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 f**k,” 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 c**k 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 ni**les, 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 c**k 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?”

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