To Dare a SEAL (Sin City SEALs) by Sara Jane Stone Read Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sara Jane Stone
under the elastic band and gripped the part of his body that freaking loved the mental picture of Natalie tossing her clothes to the ground.
He heard a soft moan from the other bed and his hand froze. He hoped like hell she’d slipped her hands under the covers, too. “Still with me, Natalie?”
“Sorry,” she said. “Please continue.”
“When the bartender stood naked, her bare tits—uh, breasts—”
“You can say tits, Jack,” she said with a laugh.
He’d say whatever she told him to if it turned her on. Right now, he had his own hand wrapped around his dick. And that wasn’t how he wanted this night to end.
“He ordered her to climb up on the steel table,” he continued. “The bartender obeyed, reaching her arms overhead. He pulled three more silk ties from the wall and walked over to her. Then he grabbed hold of her ankles and drew her to the table’s edge, spreading her legs wide. He moved to the other side, tied the silk around her wrists, and secured the fabric to the table legs. He thought about doing the same with her legs, but he left her free to plant her feet on the table. Or wrap her legs around him.”
“Jack,” she gasped.
Dammit, he wished he could see her face. Were her cheeks flushed from his words? And where the hell were her hands?
“More?” he asked.
“Yes.”
One word. No hesitation. He stared through the dark room, trying to make out more than her outline—and failed. He needed night vision, gear he’d forgotten to pack for his weekend trip to Vegas.
“Please,” she added, her voice breathless.
And yeah, he couldn’t see the effect of his story, but that one word was all the encouragement he needed to hear.
“He moved between her legs and debated blindfolding her,” he said, his hand moving up and down his dick. His hips lifted off the bed and the frame whined. Or maybe that was her bed? Was she touching herself? Had he taken her to a place where desire overrode everything else?
“Go on,” she whispered.
“He didn’t blindfold her. He wanted her to watch, her eyes on him as she came. He didn’t want her to picture someone else running his hands up her legs and slipping a finger inside her wet heat. He wanted her to watch as he lowered his mouth and licked her clit over and over, his finger moving inside her, driving her closer—”
“Jack,” she moaned. And his dick threatened to explode.
“He brought her to the edge,” he said, the words pouring out in a rush as he struggled to keep his breathing steady. “Learning what drove her wild, what made her pull at the ties binding her wrists—”
“Oh God, Jack… I can’t…” she panted. “I just…can’t. Not like that.”
He heard a rustling. One glance at her bed and he saw her struggling to toss off the covers. She succeeded, breaking free and running through the dark room—
“Shit, Natalie.” He released his dick and sat up. “Be careful.”
She disappeared into the bathroom. The slamming door echoed in the motel room.
“Natalie?” he called, swinging his legs out of bed. What the hell? She’d sounded like she was into it.
And then he heard it—a barely audible noise. A moan followed by a soft “oh.”
“Natalie.” He stood and made his way through the darkness to the bathroom door. He stopped and listened. Another soft cry. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she said, her voice needy and pretty damn close to a “weird sex noise.”
He smiled and let the relief wash over him. “I think you liked my story.”
“Oh God, yes,” she gasped.
“Tell me more, darlin’.” He sank to the floor. Resting his back against the door, he closed his eyes and stroked his hardening dick. “Where are your hands? How does it feel? Tell me more.”
Chapter Seven
W here are your hands?
Natalie pressed her back against the door and closed her eyes as she sank to the ground. Where were her hands? She’d slipped one into her sweatpants and under the band of her plain black
He heard a soft moan from the other bed and his hand froze. He hoped like hell she’d slipped her hands under the covers, too. “Still with me, Natalie?”
“Sorry,” she said. “Please continue.”
“When the bartender stood naked, her bare tits—uh, breasts—”
“You can say tits, Jack,” she said with a laugh.
He’d say whatever she told him to if it turned her on. Right now, he had his own hand wrapped around his dick. And that wasn’t how he wanted this night to end.
“He ordered her to climb up on the steel table,” he continued. “The bartender obeyed, reaching her arms overhead. He pulled three more silk ties from the wall and walked over to her. Then he grabbed hold of her ankles and drew her to the table’s edge, spreading her legs wide. He moved to the other side, tied the silk around her wrists, and secured the fabric to the table legs. He thought about doing the same with her legs, but he left her free to plant her feet on the table. Or wrap her legs around him.”
“Jack,” she gasped.
Dammit, he wished he could see her face. Were her cheeks flushed from his words? And where the hell were her hands?
“More?” he asked.
“Yes.”
One word. No hesitation. He stared through the dark room, trying to make out more than her outline—and failed. He needed night vision, gear he’d forgotten to pack for his weekend trip to Vegas.
“Please,” she added, her voice breathless.
And yeah, he couldn’t see the effect of his story, but that one word was all the encouragement he needed to hear.
“He moved between her legs and debated blindfolding her,” he said, his hand moving up and down his dick. His hips lifted off the bed and the frame whined. Or maybe that was her bed? Was she touching herself? Had he taken her to a place where desire overrode everything else?
“Go on,” she whispered.
“He didn’t blindfold her. He wanted her to watch, her eyes on him as she came. He didn’t want her to picture someone else running his hands up her legs and slipping a finger inside her wet heat. He wanted her to watch as he lowered his mouth and licked her clit over and over, his finger moving inside her, driving her closer—”
“Jack,” she moaned. And his dick threatened to explode.
“He brought her to the edge,” he said, the words pouring out in a rush as he struggled to keep his breathing steady. “Learning what drove her wild, what made her pull at the ties binding her wrists—”
“Oh God, Jack… I can’t…” she panted. “I just…can’t. Not like that.”
He heard a rustling. One glance at her bed and he saw her struggling to toss off the covers. She succeeded, breaking free and running through the dark room—
“Shit, Natalie.” He released his dick and sat up. “Be careful.”
She disappeared into the bathroom. The slamming door echoed in the motel room.
“Natalie?” he called, swinging his legs out of bed. What the hell? She’d sounded like she was into it.
And then he heard it—a barely audible noise. A moan followed by a soft “oh.”
“Natalie.” He stood and made his way through the darkness to the bathroom door. He stopped and listened. Another soft cry. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she said, her voice needy and pretty damn close to a “weird sex noise.”
He smiled and let the relief wash over him. “I think you liked my story.”
“Oh God, yes,” she gasped.
“Tell me more, darlin’.” He sank to the floor. Resting his back against the door, he closed his eyes and stroked his hardening dick. “Where are your hands? How does it feel? Tell me more.”
Chapter Seven
W here are your hands?
Natalie pressed her back against the door and closed her eyes as she sank to the ground. Where were her hands? She’d slipped one into her sweatpants and under the band of her plain black