Chapter 25
CHAPTER 25
It was after midnight and Porter still hadn’t come home. I’d cleaned the kitchen, paced, drank wine, paced, checked my phone about a hundred times, paced, bathed until the water turned cold, and paced some more.
Porter was unpredictable, and I had no idea if he’d respect my wishes and leave this alone or take matters into his own hands—maybe even tell my father? I honestly couldn’t take the tension anymore. I needed to chill out.
I pulled on a tank top and a pair of panties before I climbed into bed, begging sleep to take me.
I startled awake. A dim light crept into my room from the hallway, and I followed it into the living room. The stove’s exhaust light cast long shadows around the room.
Porter sat, fully dressed, on the couch. In the dim light, his expression was hard to read.
I hovered by the hallway. “You’re home. ”
“I am,” he said flatly.
I wrapped my arms around my waist, feeling too exposed near him. “Did you go talk to my dad?”
“No.”
“How about anyone else?”
“I respected your wishes, Beth.” His gravel tone sounded unimpressed.
“Thank you.” Unsure, I stood silently, taking in his face and body. “Where did you go?”
“A bar.”
Oh.
“Are you drunk?”
“I drank.”
I felt like I should have said something, but words failed me.
He turned his face away from me. “I don’t have a lot of self-control right now, Beth. You should go back to bed.”
I shivered in anticipation at his low tone. “Are you telling me you’re in a bossy mood?”
He met my eyes, piercing me with their intensity. “You don’t know the half of it.”
I hesitated, wanting to find out exactly how bossy this man could get, and partly fearing where that would lead us. “That sounds like a warning.”
“That’s exactly what that was.” His eyes trailed down my body with such heat, it staggered me.
I couldn’t remember the last time a man had looked at me like that.
“Come here,” he instructed.
I took a few steps closer.
“Closer.”
I moved up to stand between his open legs. He reached up and grabbed my wrist, tugging me down, so I straddled his lap. I wanted more than anything to touch him, but instead, I sat on his muscular thighs and appraised him .
“You pissed me off at dinner tonight.” He brushed my hair back off my shoulder.
“I know.”
“You think I can’t protect you?”
“I know you can. I’m just not sure it’s your job.”
“I’m a SEAL. It's my job to defend and protect.”
I chewed on my bottom lip. “I meant, I’m not sure if it’s your job to protect me .”
“Don’t see anyone else fighting for the position.”
“Well,” I swallowed, “these days, that’s the plight of a single Manhattan woman.”
He traced one long finger over my tank top, down my sternum, between my breasts and down to my belly button. Our eyes met.
His voice vibrated low, “If we cross the line here, I don’t care what we’re calling this, it’ll become my responsibility to protect you.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t let anyone fuck with what’s mine.”
Oh .
My mouth parted in shock. Lust. Desire. But mostly shock.
His thumb slipped under my shirt, brushing against my bare stomach. He cocked his head slightly. “You got a problem with that?”
“With me becoming yours or you protecting me?”
“Either.”
“No problem,” I breathed.
Who the fuck was this guy? I examined his face, willing his gorgeous features to reveal the mystery I called Porter. With one smooth movement, he stood and flipped me around until I sat on the couch and he knelt between my legs.
I gasped when he yanked me down, so my ass was on the edge of the couch. The way he smiled should’ve scared me, but it thrilled me to my core.
“Lift up your hips,” he instructed.
My feet went on tippy toes on the floor, and my breath caught in my throat when he yanked my panties down my legs. He tossed the offending fabric over his shoulder and pushed my legs apart, spreading them wide, exposing me to him completely.
Holy fuck.
Eyes wide, I clutched the couch and watched, mesmerized, as his big hands pushed beneath my tank top until it bunched up, exposing my chest. He grabbed my hands and placed them on my breasts.
“That’s where your hands belong. Playing with those gorgeous nipples.”
I laid there, not moving. Not playing.
“Show me,” his rough voice encouraged me.
With shaking fingers, I plucked at my sensitive nipples, toying with the hard, pebbled buds. He watched me for a few moments, hunger devouring his gaze. Satisfied, he lowered his face between my legs. His lips nibbled on the soft inner skin of my thigh, grazing his teeth against the skin. Our eyes met.
His tongue licked up the length of me, sending me back onto my tippy toes. “You taste amazing.”
I whimpered when his hands pressed on my thighs, pushing them further open. His tongue swirled and plundered. Sucked and invaded. His relentless explorations intoxicated me.
I loved the way his big hands pinned my hips down. I loved the feeling of his mouth on me. My head tossed back and forth. I gasped and bucked while my fingers pinched and tugged my nipples.
I trembled. My entire body shook. Time slowed down. Time sped up. The man had skills, serious skills, skyrocketing me towards my grand finale without mercy. He made a noise, rumbling with pleasure, and it vibrated against my core. I was coming. Hard, fast. My body arched against his mouth as a scream escaped my throat.
His mouth worked over me until my shuddering body collapsed. He lifted his head, studying me. I laid sprawled open to him in a wanton and drugged state. Porter had exceeded my expectations, and I could barely think.
I didn’t understand when he gathered me in his arms and easily lifted me up. He carried me into my bedroom and laid me down on my bed. It took me a moment after he straightened to his full height to realize he was putting me to bed.
“You’re leaving?”
He pulled the covers over my naked body, his voice matter of fact, “If I stay, I’m going to fuck you senseless.”
“I’m okay with that.”
“I’m drunk, and when I take you, I want to be completely sober.”
Not if , but when .
“Will you lay with me?” The words spilled out of me before I could stop them. “Just until I fall asleep?”
“You really like to tempt fate,” he growled, but he whipped his t-shirt off his muscular chest and pulled the covers back. “Move over.”
I rolled onto my side and swallowed a sigh when he wrapped a big hand around my waist and dragged me back, so I was snug against his body. “I thought you didn’t do cuddles,” I mumbled against my pillow, loving how safe and warm I felt.
“I don’t.” He buried his face into my neck. “Now go the fuck to sleep.”
“I feel safe,” My post-orgasm coma made it difficult to speak.
“It’s not only a feeling.”
“What do you mean?”
“What did you give me tonight?”
“I didn’t give you anything. You gave me an orgasm.”
“But what did you give me?”
My tired brain worked to answer that one. “My body.”
“You gave me your body,” he patiently explained.
“I don’t understand.”
“We crossed the line, Beth.”
“I’m yours?”
“To protect.”
I thought about that. “And to fuck.”
“Do we even have to say that? That’s a given.”
“How did we get here?”
“I carried you. ”
“I mean, this conversation.”
“You said you feel safe. I’m telling you it’s not only a feeling, but you’re actually safe. You’re sleeping with a SEAL.”
“Are you sober yet?”
“Want to fuck?”
“Hell yeah.”
“You’re so tired, you can barely speak.”
“Give me a minute.”
“I’m going to give you a lot more than a minute, Beth. You just don’t realize it yet.”
I could barely form words, “I want to ask what that means, but I’m too tired.”
“You can ask me in the morning.”
My last thought before sleep claimed me was how much time would he give me?