With His SEAL Team, Part 6 (Stepbrothers Stepping Out) Read online

  * * *

  The next morning, something nudged my lips. I opened my mouth, expecting another dick to fill it, but sugary goodness exploded on my tongue. I bit and blinked open my eyes to discover that a glazed pastry was what I was enjoying, and it was held by Payton, who was already dressed in black trousers. “Time to wake up,” he said. “You look pretty good for a woman who got off four times last night.”

  After swallowing the bite, I said, “Orgasms are good for the complexion,” I said, waggling my eyebrows.

  “So is semen,” he said then grunted. “I hear you wore a mask of it last night.”

  “Just part of the personal spa treatment.” My smile stretched my cheeks as I raised an eyebrow. “Marco do what I told him to when he made it back to bed?”

  “If you mean, did he give me his ass, then yes. He always follows your orders, baby-girl.”

  “He deserved some extra pleasure—the kind only you can give.”

  Payton palmed his cock through his trousers. “And don’t you know that’s true.” He jutted his chin. “Time to get up and get dressed. Wedding’s in forty-five, and you need to shower.”

  I glanced at the window and saw that the sun hadn’t yet broken on the horizon. I wrinkled my nose. “I had a very long bath last night.”

  “And Harley and Marco dirtied you right up again.” He shook his head. “Leave you in a room with a SEAL…”

  I tugged the pillow from under my head and tossed it at him. “You could have joined us.”

  “Someone had to keep Hunter from barging in.”

  “You’re a good friend.”

  “Huh. I’m the best man, Hunter called it right.”

  “He certainly did.” I sat up and let the sheet fall from my chest. Knowing his gaze was eating me up, I squinched my nose and rubbed my breasts. “I’m a little sore.”

  “Imagine that,” Payton said, shaking his head as though he was disappointed in me, but his dark eyes glittered with amusement. “Get your ass up, or you’re getting a paddling.”

  “That is not the way to get me moving.”

  Suddenly, he ducked down, grabbed my hips, slung me over his shoulder, and slapped my ass hard. “Shower. Now.”

  * * *

  This early, the beach was a perfect temperature. The sun was just peeking over the edge of the water, the sky was clear, the sea calm. I strode barefoot across the sand in a thin embroidered dress that flowed around my ankles as I walked—Marco’s choice and perfect for me. Not fussy, not confining. I felt like a 60s flower child as I approached wearing the gauzy dress and a wreath of flowers on my head. Harley had greeted me at my door to do the honors of giving me away. The rest of the guys had left nearly twenty minutes ahead of time to make sure the man they’d hired to perform the ceremony was there.

  As I strode toward them, holding onto Harley’s arm, tears welled up.

  The arch on the beach was festooned with pale pink roses, my favorite. A white carpet had been laid out. No seats, just a line of “best men” beside the groom. They all wore dark pants and white button-down shirts, and they held pink roses, like my own personal version of The Bachelor. Only one of them would be giving up that title today.

  As I passed Payton, he gave me a wink. Likely to remind me of how he’d eased the ache on my ass after slapping it so hard. A quick, bent-over-the-tub licking had gone a long way toward soothing my hot skin.

  When I passed Marco, he whispered, “You are the prettiest bride ever, chica.”

  When I stood in front of Hunter, Harley lifted my hand off his arm then bent to kiss my cheek. “Be happy,” he whispered.

  I touched his cheek then let my fingers slide away as he stood by my side.

  At last, I glanced up at Hunter.

  His expression was hard to read. Not unusual, because the man did know how to do a poker face. Then I noticed the tension in his jaw and the way he stared—as though he was looking inside me and could see my heart—or maybe right through me…? I wasn’t sure.

  I reached for his hand. “You can change your mind…” I said, only half-joking. Even if he wasn’t ready to get married today, I knew he still loved me.

  I watched his throat work as he swallowed. “I can’t believe we’re here,” he said softly.

  I couldn’t believe he wasn’t saying something about my hair or my face. I’d worked hard to make sure I was perfect for him. Narrowing my eyes a little, I tilted up my head. “I can go back to the hotel and make that walk again, just in case you need to be sure about what you’re seeing.”

  Marco gave Hunter an elbow then whispered, “She’s waiting for you to tell her she’s fucking gorgeous, dude.”

  Hunter’s mouth twitched at one corner. “Of course, she is.” Then his gaze shifted abruptly to the stranger who was about to marry us. “Proceed.”

  * * *

  Half an hour later, I was simmering with anger as I tore off the wreath of flowers I’d worn around my head and tossed it on the couch in our suite. I pushed down the top of my wedding dress, shimmed out of it, then kicked it across the room—even before Payton closed the door behind the men filing inside.

  Hunter leaned against the wall, his cool gaze watching me. Not saying a fucking word.

  He’d stood silent throughout the ceremony, only touching me when he had to slide the ring on my finger and give me a kiss at the end—a quick kiss at that. No tongue, no bending me low to make a show of our first kiss as man and wife!

  Harley cleared his throat. “Maybe we should go to the cabana for drinks, guys,” he said, gesturing to Marco and Payton.

  “Stay,” Hunter said, the word clipped while his gaze remained on me as I stood with my hands fisted on my bare hips.

  The guys stayed bunched near the door, their gazes bouncing from me to Hunter and back.

  “Well?” I said, my voice rising toward the end.

  “Did I say you could speak?” Hunter said.

  A pin dropping would’ve sounded like an avalanche.

  “It’s my fucking wedding day,” I said nastily, tapping my foot.

  “Again, you’re talking.”

  “Is that how’s it going to be? The little woman can speak when you say to speak or bend over when you want to fuck?” I felt as though fire licked at my skin, I was so furious.

  And excited. Damn, I was so excited I couldn’t help squeezing my thighs together.

  When Hunter finally moved, he rushed me, quickly snagging a finger in my G-string and ripping it away. Then he shredded my bra. When he was finished, he backed up a step.

  I drew a deep shaky breath then lifted my chin, giving him a defiant look.

  His gaze burned. “Bend over.”

  I couldn’t help it, I let out a bark of laughter. “Seriously? After what you just did?”

  His eyes narrowed to slits, and he picked me up by my waist and walked me to the couch. Then he bent me face forward over the back, his large hard hand anchoring me to the sofa.

  I heard the rasp of a zipper then felt his dick push against my vulva. He found my center and thrust straight inside me.

  I was already wet. Already trembling. Every minute of bristling fury had built to this moment.

  Hunter got me. Knew what made me blow hot. When he acted like a dictatorial dick, he tempted the spoiled bitch inside me to come out to play. And I was a very spoiled girl just looking for the right man’s heavy hand to give me a spank.

  As he reamed my pussy, I turned my head toward the guys still hovering near the door and gave them a wink.

  Marco pressed his lips together. Payton shook his head. Harley gave me a little salute with his hook.

  But I didn’t really have time to give their reactions another thought, not with the pounding Hunter was giving me. My channel was hot, my pussy swelling. The strength of his thrusts slammed against my tender flesh—just how I liked it.

  When I arched against his hand, ready to blow, he withdrew.

  Of course.

  I didn’t mouth a complaint. I knew
better, but I did shoot him a hot glance over my shoulder.

  He backed away and began stripping. So did the guys.

  What was happening?

  I’d thought today was the day he’d lay exclusive claim to me, once and for all. Just him and me from this day forward. I’d been preparing for the separation from my playmates for months, worrying about their futures, worrying about how I’d manage to keep my desires for poly-play hidden, because I’d figured he’d been allowing it so I could get it all out of my system before settling down.

  “What’s happening?” I asked softly.

  The men didn’t answer. Or smile. Or look at me. Instead, they began moving furniture, clearing the floor then stripping off bedding and placing mattresses in the middle of the sitting room area. One king, two queens—a big play area.

  Hunter pointed to the carpeted floor, and I didn’t hesitate kneeling. I bent my head and clasped my hands behind my back, showing submission while inside I vowed I’d be a very, very bad girl if I got the chance.

  When all four of them were nude and the mattresses arranged to Hunter’s liking, the guys lay down on their sides, all facing inward along the outer edges—all except Hunter, who stepped in front of me.

  “Sara?”

  I glanced upward, pouting my lips. Nothing was going the way I’d envisioned, but I did still trust that Hunter understood how important today was to me. “Yes…sir?” There, I’d acknowledged him the way he liked when we played. Would he reward me?

  He raised an arm and pointed toward a black bag sitting in front of the closet. Where had that come from? I didn’t recognize it from the bags we’d packed before flying to Cancun.

  I pushed up from the floor and retrieved it, dropping it to the ground in front of him.

  “Open it.”

  I knelt and unzipped the bag then spread the sides open. I saw a long cylinder with cuffs attached to the ends. A spreader bar. Yes, yes, yes.

  “Move to the center of the bed,” he said, lifting his chin toward the mattresses on the floor.

  I made of show of dragging my feet, looking sullen, but inside, my heart was beating fast and my pussy clenched. Once in the center, I glanced his way again.

  “Get on all fours.”

  I dropped to my knees and took my sweet time going down on my hands, making sure the guys got a good view of my boobs as they bounced. Then I spread my knees and tilted up my ass.

  Hunter’s steps were muffled as he strode across the mattresses to get to me. But then one hand smoothed over my ass. A finger trailed between buttocks. Two more dipped inside my pussy and swirled before withdrawing.

  Velcro scratched, a band was fastened around my thigh, just above my knee. He patted the other thigh. “Wider.”

  I huffed a breath and widened my stance. The other cuff was fastened. Now, I was restrained, unable to close my thighs, and Hunter could see how excited I was because I was dripping and my vagina was opening and closing, making wet noises I’m sure the other guys could hear.

  He stepped over me, his legs bracketing my waist. Then he bent and reached over my head to hold a ball gag in front of my mouth. Without him giving me the order, I opened my mouth and let him place it gently inside before he fastened another strap behind my head. Then a piece of cloth fell in front of my face—a black silk scarf—which he proceeded to tie around my head, blindfolding me. He moved away.

  Suddenly, I felt alone. Vulnerable. I drew a sharp breath.

  A hand stroked my back, soothing me. Too large to be Hunter’s. When had Payton moved?

  Something moved beneath me. Wet lips closed around a nipple. A tongue swept over the tip. Already hard, my nipples tingled and I felt goosebumps lift on my skin.

  More rustling sounded, this time behind me.

  Hands framed my ass, a wet tongue stroked over me from my clit to my asshole. Marco.

  My arms and thighs trembled as I tried to hold myself still and remain silent.

  Warm breath stirred the hair beside my ear. “Don’t come,” came Hunter’s hoarse whisper.

  More movement beneath me. Something cold and hard toggled my other nipple. A hook clamped around it and gave my breast a shake.

  This time a moan tore from my throat. The clamp was tight and getting tighter. The pain was perfect, just enough to ratchet up my arousal, which was likely drowning Marco’s mouth below as he lapped it up.

  For several long minutes, Hunter’s three teammates licked and plied me with kisses and rough glides of their hands. My body warmed. My pussy swelled. My nipples were so hard and tight I felt like I was nearing the edge, but he’d told me to wait.

  I complained, giving a muffled shout from behind the ball gag and shaking my head.

  But still, they continued to torture me. I trembled, head to toe, my shivers accompanied by goose bumps.

  Then everything stopped. Blood flowed back into the nipple that had been clamped. My three playmates moved away. I tensed, not knowing what was coming next. Not until I felt the velvet glide of flanges moving along my back, over my bottom, between my legs. When they lifted away, I waited, holding my breath.

  The first pop of the flogger stung my right ass cheek. I’d have a welt. I didn’t care. The next landed on the other side, and I wiggled my ass while I pretended distress, whimpering against the hard rubber lodged between my teeth.

  The pops continued—always a fresh spot, moving closer to my center. Where I needed it. Because if he flicked me there, I’d come. To hell with his order.

  Instead, the flanges dragged gently across my back and butt again, then swirled between my legs. I moaned and stretched out my arms, lowering my chest to the mattress to rub my nipples against something because I needed to grind against a warm body, needed desperately to get off.

  The strap on the ball gag was released, and I spit it out. Still blind, my breaths seemed overloud to my own ears. Then I caught a whiff of musk—Hunter’s—right before the soft, satin head of his cock bounced against my lips. I opened obediently, sucking him inside, urgently stroking him with my tongue because I needed him to let go of his control and take me—or order one of our friends to do it, because I needed to come. The tension inside my belly was becoming a cramp and fluid was flooding my slit.

  I needed to be fucked, and I wanted it to be Hunter, needed it to be him, but I’d take what he gave me.

  I sucked him deeper, bobbing forward and letting his shaft slide along my tongue to the back of my throat. Then I opened my throat and pushed forward, taking more of him. He began to fuck my throat, his fingers sliding around my ears to anchor me in place.

  I loved him. I hated him. I needed him. He filled my mouth, my heart. I needed the fucker to fill my cunt!

  When he pulled free, his thumbs smoothed over my cheeks, sliding in moisture.

  I hadn’t realized I was crying. When his hands moved away, I dropped my chest to the mattress and rested my face on my folded arms.

  Behind me, there was movement. Two sets of hands removed the cuffs around my thighs. My hips eased to the right, and I laid on my side, drawing deep shuddering breaths.

  Someone laid beside me. Gentle hands moved me to my back. Hands cradled my head then the blindfold eased, drawn away.

  I blinked and stared up at Hunter, whose expression was fierce—his eyebrows furrowed, his hot gaze boring into my own.

  “Baby, are you ready to be my wife?” he whispered.

  Again, tears filled my eyes and I nodded, remaining mute.

  He eased a thigh between my legs, then the other followed, gently nudging me open. I raised my knees and cupped his sides with my inner thighs. When he bent his head toward me, I raised my head to greet him. His kiss was soft, just a blending of our lips. Then he thrust his tongue inside my mouth, and I raised my arms to wrap them around his shoulders as he pressed his cock against my folds and pushed inside.

  I sighed and shivered, relieved he was taking me. At last.

  As he moved, pushing deep then withdrawing, his movements measur
ed, I glided my hands from his shoulders to his back and up again, filling my palms with his heat, caressing his skin as he filled my channel, caressing me from the inside.

  When his thrusts grew bolder, he shifted his hands beneath my ass and held me closer, making sure to grind at the end of each deep stroke to give me what I needed.

  My arousal drew close to the peak, and I gave him a pleading glance.

  “Come for me, baby. Be mine.”

  We came together, both shouting out at the moment we lost ourselves. Even after we peeked, he moved slowly inside me, running his hands beneath me, cradling me, dropping his chest to mine and giving me another deep kiss.

  When at last we lay together panting, he smiled. “How’s it feel to be married?”

  “Like I’m home,” I whispered.

  A throat cleared nearby.

  We both glanced at the guys who were standing around the outer edge of the mattresses now.

  Payton pointed toward the door to the other room of the suite. “We’ll leave you guys to keep consumatin’.”

  Hunter’s mouth stretched into a wry smile. “Why would you do that? You’re my team, guys. My best men.”

  Marco gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Guess we’re not sure what happens next.” He held up his hands. “We’re okay however this falls. We’re all friends. We love Sara and want what’s best.”

  Hunter pulled out of me and rolled to his back, sticking an arm under his head and turning to look at me. “What’s best, Sara, for you?”

  “I have everything I need when I’m with you, Hunter,” I said, knowing my answer mattered.

  He nodded. “Got that right. But what do you want?”

  Was this a trick? I narrowed my eyes and answered truthfully. “More.”

  Hunter’s laugh was swift and unexpected. It filled the room, and soon the other guys joined in.

  I rolled my eyes at them all, noting that while Hunter’s dick was going slack, the other guys’ were bobbing against their bellies.

  Marco shook his head. “She’s doing it again.”

  Payton arched an eyebrow. “Our girl’s greedy as fuck.”

  Harley chuckled. “You know, Hunter, if we’re all thinking the same thing, my girl’s game, too…”