Nanny for the SEALs by Cassie Cole

11

Heather

Rogan loomed over me, that stupid—yet so, so sexy—smile plastered on his handsome face. For a few awful seconds, I was certain he was going to turn around and walk out of the hotel room without touching me.

Now that would be torture.

But I could tell he wanted me every bit as much as I wanted him. He cupped my cheek and lowered his lips to mine in a long, deep kiss. My body surged upward with need as we reenacted the scene from the suite bathroom.

He rumbled a moan into my mouth. The chair wasn’t conducive to sexy kissing, so he pulled me down to the edge so he could lean into me. He was wearing jeans instead of dress pants, but his hard length was impossible to ignore, even through the thicker fabric. He ground himself against my pussy, causing my bathrobe to slide away more and more with every gyrating thrust.

“See?” he said, smiling against my lips. “You are attracted to me.”

“I’m not,” I said breathlessly. “I’m lying to protect my cover.”

He ground against me harder. “You’re a good actor.”

“Tell that to my non-existent agent.”

Rogan’s hands slid underneath my legs, then he effortlessly lifted me into the air. I knew he looked strong, but he manhandled me like I weighed nothing. If he was so inclined, he could do whatever he wanted with me and I wouldn’t be able to stop him.

The thought turned me on more than I expected.

Rogan spun me around and then lowered me to the bed, with my legs dangling off the edge. He crushed his mouth against mine again, this time deepening it with his tongue. I wrapped my legs around his hard body and eagerly met his tongue with my own.

“This is the real reason you came here tonight,” I said. “Isn’t it?”

He grabbed a handful of my hair and tightened his hand into a fist. “It never occurred to me.”

I moaned as he pulled my head back, exposing my neck for him to kiss. The bristles of his cheek scratched against my skin as he nuzzled down to my shoulder. His hips still gyrated into me, and the robe had moved far enough aside that I felt his jeans pushing up against my wet slit.

I don’t know who invented denim jeans, but I hated them in that moment for creating the thing that was currently separating his cock from my lady parts.

Rogan kissed a trail down my chest, using his nose to open my bathrobe. He paused to drink in the sight of my breasts before diving on one of them, kissing all around the flesh before circling the nipple with his tongue. I groaned and arched my back, reaching up to take a handful of his hair. As I did so, Rogan snatched my wrist in his hand and pushed it to the bed, holding my arm aside. When I tried to use my other hand to touch him, he did that with his other hand.

I melted underneath his smile, which said, I’m in control.

“Who do you work for, Miss Hart?” he asked lustily.

“Money,” I said, repeating the answer I had given during the real interrogation. “I work for money.”

He switched to my other breast, jaw scratching against the skin before his tongue found my nipple. His lips tightened around it in an intense nibble that made me moan longer and louder than before.

“If you don’t tell me,” he said playfully, “then I’m going to have to step up my efforts.”

“I’ll never tell,” I replied, keeping up the game. “Do your worst.”

I felt him smile against my breast, and then he rose off my body. I felt empty and cold without his presence, but the show he gave me soon made up for it. He pulled his T-shirt over his head, giving me my first glimpse of his body.

“What the fuck,” I said.

He frowned. “What’s wrong?”

I waved my hand in his general direction. “That. All those muscles. Normal guys aren’t supposed to have all of that going on!”

His hand caressed up my thigh. “I’m not a normal guy.”

I waited for him to continue undressing, but he left his jeans on. Instead, he leaned over to the ice cream bar to retrieve the bowl of chocolate syrup. He used the spoon to drizzle it down my thigh, across my belly, and beyond one breast. It left a warm sensation everywhere it landed.

“You know you’re getting me all sticky, right?” I said. “And not in the good way.”

I tried to sit up, but he planted a strong palm above my breasts and pushed me back down easily. “You want to be tortured? This is how it starts.”

Rogan lowered his face to my thigh, extending his long tongue. Slowly, carefully, the tip of his tongue touched the beginning of the trail of warm chocolate sauce.

Food during sex wasn’t my thing. At least, I didn’t think it was my thing based on the two instances where I had tried it. But the way Rogan was holding me down and slowly licking up the chocolate…

I tightened my inner muscles and let out a soft sigh. If I wasn’t already wet before, now I was drenched for him. This was doing it for me in a way that I hadn’t experienced with food before.

“You taste good,” he said, tongue following the trail down across my pelvic bone. Next to my mound. He used his free hand to pry open my legs, exposing myself to him, but he was totally focused on the chocolate. “Very good.”

I squirmed as his tongue trailed along next to my mound, his chin almost brushing against my outer lips in passing, but not quite.

I can’t believe I’m doing this with the man who was interrogating me six hours ago.

“You win,” I said, voice tight with pleasure. “This is torture.”

I felt him rumble a laugh into my belly. “Not for me. I’m having fun.”

My loins were on fire with pleasure, desperate to be touched. I reached down there but his hand snatched my wrist away again while he continued licking up the warm chocolate.

“I surrender,” I said. “I’ll admit that I was attracted to you last night. That was part of why I kissed you.”

“I already knew that,” he said, tongue swirling its way up my breast. “But it’s nice to hear you admit it.”

I let out a pleasured groan. “What do you want from me?”

Rogan didn’t respond. He just kept holding me down and licking up the chocolate, leaving a cool sensation in its wake.

Finally he reached the end of the trail. He brushed a kiss against my lips—he tasted like sugary chocolate—and then stood up to remove his belt, then his jeans.

I watched the sight with wide, eager eyes. His grey boxer-briefs hugged his thighs and crotch, leaving nothing to the imagination. His hard length ran down one side, so long that the tip almost popped out the leg.

I tensed with anticipation, excited to see what he would do next. This man, this god of muscle and tan skin, stood over me for three long breaths. His eyes raked over my body, and I slipped all the way out of the bathrobe to give him a better look.

Then he leaned down, grabbed my hips, and flipped me over.

I let out a yelp of surprise. Then I felt the same warm sensation as he drizzled chocolate sauce over me.

“I want to keep eating you up,” he rumbled. “I can’t get enough.”

I twisted to look back at him. “If you think the sugar rush is good, wait until you see how I feel.”

“I’m getting there.”

I glanced at the thick bulge in his boxer-briefs. “Looks like you got there a while ago.”

He smiled teasingly. “I like making you wait.”

I trembled as he bent to me again, this time starting between my shoulder blades and licking down my back. His underwear was soft against my skin, with the raging-hard cock pressed against my ass cheek. It moved down my thigh as he licked the chocolate down my spine.

By the time he reached my ass, I was full of electric energy. He followed the drizzle of sugar across my left ass cheek, squeezing the right with his hand. His thumb dug into my flesh, inches from my sopping entrance. Rogan squeezed harder and his grip shifted, thumb sliding closer. I imagined his tongue inside me, doing everything he’d been doing, and his lips drifted lower and lower until they were on my inner thigh…

And then he kissed away from my sex.

I let out a groan of sexual frustration. “I want you.”

“You’re cute when you squirm,” he said deeply.

“Yeah, well, you’d be a lot cuter if your face was buried in my—ohh.”

As if he had read my mind, Rogan flashed his tongue out and licked up my slit. I could feel his breath on my skin, hot and humid, as he admired the view from behind.

“I love the way you taste,” he said, squeezing my ass with both hands and spreading my cheeks apart.

“That’s the chocolate,” I breathed, eager to feel him again.

He shook his head. “No. It’s not just the chocolate. Underneath that taste is you, and you’re delicious.”

To underscore the point, he dove back into me from behind. I trembled as he jammed his tongue deep inside my pussy, then wriggled it up and down. My entire body melted as he gobbled me up, then circled his lips around the nub of my clit, sending new bolts of electric energy throughout me.

I clamped my pussy tightly around his tongue, and he jammed it deeper, face pressing against my backside. His arms circled my thighs and pulled me against him, like he was trying to smother himself in my lady-parts. It was exactly what I needed, and soon I was bucking against his face with every lick.

I was rocketing toward an orgasm with reckless speed, forced along by his tongue and his arms and the way his hands gripped my skin, holding on for dear life. I lost myself in the torrid waves of arousal, each one nudging me closer to white-hot bliss.

“Yes,” I begged. “Yes, oh yes, don’t stop…”

I don’t know what kind of walls they have at the Four Seasons. Hopefully they’re thick and sound-proof, because I totally lost myself in those moments as Rogan’s tongue worshipped my pussy and clit. I made noises so loud and intense that someone outside might think I was being tortured in here. Hopefully Timmy didn’t have any other room service deliveries on this floor.

My whole body trembled on the sheets after, aftershocks of pleasure. Rogan gripped my body steadily, nose buried deep into my slit like it belonged there.

I felt him pull away, and then I heard the metallic sound of his belt buckle. He was rummaging in the pocket of his jeans. I wanted to look, but I was too happy laying on my belly to move.

I heard a small tear, and when I finally glanced back, Rogan was rolling a condom onto his cock.

His now exposed cock, which looked even larger when it wasn’t imprisoned by his underwear.

“Sex never occurred to you, huh?” I crooned at him.

He bent low and twisted my head to kiss me while I remained on my belly. “You’re not the only one who’s a good actor.”

I was soaked with desire, and practically burning to feel Rogan inside me. When I felt the tip of his cock slide between my cheeks from behind, I decided I wasn’t going to let him tease things out. I wanted him too badly for that. I slid my palms underneath my body for leverage, and then shoved my ass up against him.

My pussy enveloped every inch of Rogan’s cock, all the way to the base.

Both of us moaned together—me with satisfaction, and Rogan with surprise. “Heather…”

I purred underneath him. “I like the way you say my name.” I could barely get the words out because of how good he felt. He filled every part of me, stretching my walls and making them his. Taking them like… like…

Like a Navy SEAL taking control of a hostile building, I thought with a giggle.

Rogan kissed my ear. “What’s so funny?” he whispered.

“Your cock.”

I felt him tense. “What’s so funny about that?”

“Tell you later.” And then, “Don’t stop.”

Rogan covered my body like a blanket as he began to fuck me. Having his weight pressed on top of me accentuated the feeling that he was totally in control, and that I was at his sexual mercy. He pulled back and bottomed out inside of me, hitting my forward wall in a way that normally would have been too intense, but was now just right after all the prior teasing.

Rogan quickly got up to speed, pulling away and thrusting into me like he could no longer hold back. The expensive hotel bed shuddered as he slammed into me hard, and harder, casting aside all caution and pretense.

I closed my eyes and moaned, surrendering to the mindless drive of our bodies.