Free Hot SEALs: SEAL's Ultimate Challenge by Elle James

her core. By the swell of the ridge beneath his jeans, he was feeling it, too.
    At the moment the kiss broke, she pushed against this chest. “Put me down.”
    He lowered her legs to the ground and bent to nibble her ear, trailing a line of kisses down the length of her neck to the base of her throat where her pulse beat wildly.
    She reached for the waistband of his jeans. “Tell me no and I’ll walk away,” she whispered against his chest, inhaling the scent of his sexy aftershave as she prayed he didn’t take her up on her offer.
    He answered by twisting his fingers in the hem of her DCPD T-shirt and dragging it up her torso, her breasts, and over her head. He tossed it to the corner, reached behind her back, and fumbled with the clasp on her bra.
    She didn’t help him, knowing this task was as important to him as loading rounds into his weapon. Perhaps he felt that if he couldn’t undress a woman, he wasn’t a man.
    Eventually, he pulled the hooks free and slipped the straps off her arms.
    She let it fall to the floor, her breasts unbound for him to see, touch and taste.
    Leigha’s nipples tightened into hard little buds, as Reaper dipped his head and sucked one into his mouth. He flicked the tip with his tongue and rolled it between his teeth.
    She arched her back, urging him to take more, to suck it deeper into his mouth. For each time he pulled, her core tightened in response until she ached for him to take all of her body.
    Impatient for more sensation, she guided his head to her other breast. While he lavished his attention on it, she ran her hands down his back and dragged his T-shirt over his muscles. He raised his head and arm, and she tugged the garment over his head, dropping it to the floor.
    With his torso bare, she could see all the muscles she rarely saw in his sessions. Tattoos covered much of his shoulders—bold dark lines and swirls in fantastical patterns, broken only by shrapnel scars incurred in the explosion that nearly took his life.
    Leigha traced the patterns with her fingers, memorizing the images, the scars, and the hard planes of his toned muscles. He was beautiful from so many angles, and she wanted to explore them all.
    With sharp moves, she kicked off her shoes and reached for the button on his jeans. The sooner they were naked, the better she’d feel. Slipping her hand inside the denim waistband, she flipped the button open and dragged down the zipper, careful not to catch his cock in the metal teeth. He swelled outward the farther down she went until his shaft burst free of the denim confines, the velvety smoothness resting in her palm.
    He was long, thick, and firm. Leigha slipped her fingers along his length, marveling at the texture and firmness, ready to move to her bedroom and the next step in this seduction.
    As if reading her mind, he took her hand and led her deeper into her apartment, moving with purpose toward the bedroom door. Once inside, he backed her up to the bed and eased her onto the mattress. Bending over her, he nibbled on a breast and tongued it thoroughly, then moved down her torso to the waistband of her jeans. He pushed the button through the hole and eased down her zipper.
    He scooted her body farther up the bed and dragged her jeans down her legs, past her thighs, knees, and ankles. When he had her on the mattress in only her panties, he straightened and stared at her body from the tips of her breasts to the V of material covering her mons, to the ugly scar on her knee.
    Although she knew her reaction was ridiculous, she wanted to hide her scar. But she lay still, letting him drink his fill.
    He reached out and touched the scar, tracing it from her lower thigh across her knee to her shin. “Does it still hurt?”
    She shrugged. “On rainy days.” Leigha reached out and took his hand, guiding it to her sex. “What aches now has nothing to do with gunshot wounds or knee replacements.” She slipped his hand into her panties and left him to figure it out