Tawny Weber - Christmas with a SEAL

But she knew he wouldn’t accept it.

Her goal tonight had been to heal her broken imagination. To use her fantasy as a key to reopen her creative doors.

Now all she wanted was to make Phillip feel better than good. She wanted him to feel incredible. So incredible that he forgot those secrets tearing at his soul. So incredible that he found peace.

So incredible that he never forgot her.

“Why is it crazy to feel good?” she asked, finally responding to his comment.

She saw the response in his eyes before he said a word. That rigid control of his was shoving aside the passion, replacing it with logic. Talk about crazy.

Frankie pressed her finger against his lips before he could voice his thoughts. She shook her head, giving him her sexiest look.

“You do make me feel good, Phillip. So good. The way you touch me, it’s getting me excited. Thinking about what’s coming next, it’s making me so hot.” She rubbed her finger over his bottom lip, her eyes locked on his as she stretched to brush a kiss over that lip. She arched her brow, then without warning, gave him a gentle nip.

He hissed. His fingers tensed on her hips, as if he couldn’t decide whether to push away from her or pull her closer.

She figured it was the least she could do to help him figure it out.

She moved her hand down so both palms were on his chest, circling, caressing.

“You want me,” she told him, sliding one hand lower to cup the hard length of him pressing against her thigh. “You can have me. All you have to do is let go. Quit worrying. Quit thinking. Just feel.”

Brows furrowed, he looked as if he didn’t understand. Had he never let go? Never let himself be free?

Suddenly desperate to give him that, Frankie ran her tongue over his lip. When his eyes glazed, she gave his lip another little nip, then sucked it into her mouth and soothed the flesh with her tongue. At the same time, she curved her fingers around his erection, squeezing gently as she rubbed her thumb over the velvety tip.

He growled, shifting so their bodies were pressed together, her hand trapped between them.

One hand tunneled into her hair, tilting her head, his tongue sweeping past hers to take over the kiss. Even as his mouth sent her reeling with desire, she was blown away by his tenderness.

His other hand swept down, his fingers skimming over her skin so softly that she shivered. He cupped her breast, gently weighing its fullness while teasing the tip. Heat curled tighter, wet and needy between her thighs.

Frankie wrapped her leg around his, curling her foot behind his thigh to pull him closer, to press her aching core against his heat.

Suddenly, before she even realized he’d moved, Phillip was kissing his way down her body. His hand still cupping her breast, he sucked one nipple into his mouth. Frankie gasped as pleasure shot through her body.

Then she stiffened, every one of her senses going on full alert as his fingers slipped along the elastic of her panties. She could still feel everything else he was doing, and it was all making her crazy with desire. But it was all going on in the background, while center stage was his hand, her panties and what came next.

She was pretty sure that it would be her.

His finger slipped under the silky fabric.

She held her breath.

Ever so gently, he touched her swollen bud.

Frankie gasped. Need coiled tighter within her.

She was so close, the edge of delight within reach. She could feel it, the key to everything she wanted, dancing there on the tip of his fingers.

But she couldn’t go over, couldn’t let herself. Not until she knew he was right there with her, free from those demons she’d seen in his eyes.

“Are you letting go?” she asked, her words coming in pants. “Are you feeling, just feeling?”

“I feel you,” he said, the words themselves as exciting as the feel of his mouth brushing over her nipple as he said them. “I promise the only thing in my mind right now is you. How you feel. How you taste. How much I want you.”

Frankie whimpered, not knowing how she managed to hold back the orgasm those words inspired.

“I want you to want me so much you can’t think at all,” she said, shifting the hand trapped between them so she could touch him again. As if anticipating her move, he shifted.

Sliding his body down hers, every delicious inch of him skimming her body on his way down, he dropped to his knees at her feet. His hand still worked her breast, even as he lifted one of her legs and draped it over his shoulder.

Frankie’s breath hitched as she anchored her shoulders against the wall, watching in fascination as Phillip pressed tiny kisses along her inner thigh. Each one a little higher than the other until he reached her throbbing core.

She wanted to watch. She needed the visuals for future fantasies. But the sensations were too overpowering.

Her eyes closed as his tongue swept along her bud, sipping, then sucking.

His fingers, one, two, slipped inside.

Moving.

Swirling.

Plunging.

“Go,” he demanded.

The command, the vibrations of his words against her flesh, the feel of his breath.

She couldn’t take it. She couldn’t stop herself.

She flew over the edge.

Oh, wow.

Colors and shapes exploded behind her closed eyes, her head falling back against the wall. The climax pulsed through her in waves of pleasure. Her heart pounded so loudly, she could barely hear her labored breathing.

Wow.

When he let go, he really let go.

* * *

SHE TASTED LIKE AMBROSIA.

Healing, delicious nectar.

Phillip’s head swam with the power of their passion. He’d never felt this before. Never wanted to. The idea that one person could take over every sensation in his body, could command his complete attention?

He’d have said it was impossible.

But as Frankie trembled, her cries of delight filling his ears, Phillip had to admit, he’d been wrong.

“In me,” she panted. “I want you inside me.”

“Can’t.” His words were a grunt, his fingers gripping the soft flesh of her butt, his lips pressed to her silken belly as he breathed in her scent and grappled for control. “No condom.”

“Shoe.”

“I beg your pardon?” Phillip frowned, opening one eye to peer up at her to see if she’d bumped her head in all the excitement.

“My shoe,” she repeated. She didn’t look impaired, unless absolutely satisfied counted.

Phillip would have preened a little at the look on her face, but he was too confused.

“You want me to use your shoe?”

Frankie’s laugh was breathless and light, her hand curving over his cheek before sliding it through his hair in a way that was both exciting and comforting at the same time.

“They are sexy shoes,” she acknowledged. “And they have a tiny pocket under the ribbons.”

If he’d been fascinated by her before, he was now in complete awe.

His fingers skimming down the gentle curve of her calf, he curled his palm over her ankle for a moment before skimming his fingers lower to find the pocket.

“You have a condom in your shoe?” His laugh was a puff of warm air against her belly.

“Another in the other shoe,” she told him, finally lifting her head to offer a sassy smile. “Shall we put them to good use?”

Having been raised a gentleman, Phillip knew it’d be churlish to disappoint a lady. Especially one standing over him in all her naked glory.

In thirty seconds flat, he had her condomless shoes off, and her naked body on the floor beneath his. A part of him demanded that he slow down, carry her to the bed.

But he couldn’t wait that long.

“Now,” she demanded, in perfect sync.

“Now,” he agreed, sheathing himself.