We can't stop fucking.

Ever since the night he barged in and told me the truth...said the word I never expected to hear from a crude, cocky asshole like him, I've been in pieces. I don't know how to deal with it, so I just keep pushing myself down on his cock, taking him in my mouth, cushioned in my breasts, between my legs.

He's stealthy about it too. For the last couple weeks, he's been coming to my room after leaving base every night.

It's a small relief with the summer being so quiet. The Fourth of July passes, and we don't even stop to watch the fireworks, fucking in my little room instead.

Evie's still a broken mess, wandering the house at all hours. I worry he's going to run into her every time he slips into the house, and start a shitstorm all over again.

Dad's been strangely distant too. He's spending extra time at the office, whenever he can bring himself to leave the house, trusting his maniac wife won't do something insane.

All he wants to talk about with me is school next fall. A couple times, he teases me about the hot new intern working for him as his PA, and I blush. I have to pretend to laugh it off, pay lip service to a date with this fraternity kid in business, who I have zero interest in meeting.

If he knew about Chris and me, it would be the final blow. I honestly don't know how to break the news to the world, much less our screwed up parents. I can't bring myself to do it anytime soon, when he's at his wit's end, driven to madness by Evie's endlessly bitchy, ruthlessly crazy antics.

One hot July evening, Chris takes me out. He really does know some lovely little bars along the coast. They aren't fancy, nothing like the high-end watering holes I'm used to, but they feel real. Everybody inside them looks alive, like they're actually listening to each other's conversations, instead of just eye-fucking their next fling for the night.

Marnie and her new boy toy join us for drinks. I honestly can't tell if it's the big, tanned bodybuilder from the beach or someone else. The type of men she goes for are always tall, burned, and dumb as rocks.

“How's the big project coming, Delia? Did that jackass, Thosser, get off your ass?” She flashes me a perfect white smile. I watch big boy glance down at the thong she's probably got sticking out behind her for emphasis.

Ass is right.

Not that I have much room for judgment. Chris listens in silently, one hand on my thigh underneath the table, dangerously close to telling my best friend I'm not just being lame for bringing my stepbrother along because I can't find a real date.

“It's slow going,” I say with a sigh. “Finally got my thesis out. Now I'm working on the intro and the outline. Tentative title? Conquering Fear: A SEAL's Journey Back to Civilian Life.”

She claps her hands and laughs. “Love it, girl. It's pompous and flashy, just the way he likes. Hey, Erik, why don't you go bring us some more, hmm?”

She passes the boy toy her empty glass, smiling like a shark. He shrugs and gladly does as he's ordered. I'm not sure if it's just Marnie's overbearing style, or if she has a real knack for bringing these big boys to their knees.

“You must be helping my bestie with all this, Mister SEAL,” she says, folding her hands neatly under her chin. “How hard is it to come home and stop all the killing? Do you ever get a break, like, for real?”

“Marnie!” I gasp, giving her a soft kick underneath the table. I'm not exactly thrilled with the way she's eyeing my man either, looking at him like he's her next conquest.

Chris takes a long pull of his beer before he answers. “About as hard as it is to keep your eyes off me while your boyfriend's sitting right next to you.”

Her eyes blow up and she coughs. I throw a hand over my mouth. I'm shocked, but I'm really suppressing a laugh, stunned because no one has ever put her in her place like this.

“You're a very bold man, aren't you?” she asks, toying with the straw in her water. “I like that. Delia's a very lucky girl...to have you as her brother, I mean.”

Marnie's shooting me a sharp glance like she knows. Shit.

Clearing my throat, I sip on my own margarita and try to deflect. We just need a few more seconds before the boy toy returns with more booze to shut her up.

“Yeah, she is.” Chris beats me to the punch. “I take care of family.”

“It's sweet two people can become so close when their parents hook up at an older age,” Marnie says, just as the walking orange returns with a fresh drink for her. “Help her out of her shell, Chris. Lord knows I've tried to get her mingling with the boys. If she's still a virgin by the time she gets her cap and gown, I swear, I'll –“

I put my hand over Chris' and lean forward, narrowing my eyes. “Marnie, we don't need to get into this. Not with these guys here. FYI, I'm working on it.”

I watch pink, sugary liquor go down her lips, a little too rapidly. She's already tipsy, and that means she's going to get on edge too. Normally, I'd be careful what I'm telling her, but I'm sick of her crap, being pushed around like she's some kind of alpha bitch.

“Yeah? Well, I wouldn't know. It seems you've been busy with other things for half the summer. What are you now, Delia?” She cocks her head. “Too good to invite us down to the beach again? Last year, we had about ten parties under our belt by now.”

“Dad's been using the land for his own stuff,” I lie, desperate to cover up the fact that I've been caught in my stepbrother's whirlwind, nearly sold into white slavery, and addicted to Chris' cock. “It's mid-summer now. Maybe we do need a bash.”

“Agreed!” That perks her up, and she pulls on boy toy's arm, who gives her a silent, dopy smile. “How about a house party too? Your folks are still going out of town a lot, yeah?”

I hesitate. Dad's only allowed me to use the house a few times. He's generous that way, but he wants it left spotless. Last time, I had to race to clean up burned out joints, beer bottles, and even a few used condoms tucked underneath the furniture.

I wouldn't dare leave my garbage there for the servants either. They think I'm such a good girl, even though they've seen sides of me that aren't.

“I'll have to check in and find out his schedule. I think he said something about a big conference in Atlanta next week. Only thing is, I'm not sure if Evie's going to be tagging along. She's been going through some crap lately.”

“Forget about her. She'll be too whacked out of her mind to know what the fuck's going on if you do decide to host.” Chris waves a decisive hand through the air. “I've got something coming up too. I'd love to have some fun before I have to go overseas and shoot people.”

Marnie laughs. The bodybuilder chuckles across the table too, then drains his drink and smiles. “Yeah, me three...or is that me four? I've lost count.”

“Then it's settled! Check in next week, Delia, and let us know what's up. See if we can use that awesome pool. I've got a new bikini I'm going to be trying either way.”

She's looking at Chris again when she says it, and I slide my hand to his thigh, stopping just next to his cock. Don't even think about it, SEAL.

I smile sweetly at her, and then look at the man next to me. My heart relaxes when I see him staring right back, his green eyes as intense as ever, swirling with lust, none of it directed across the table.

That's when I know I've landed myself a bad boy. If only I can keep him without destroying every other thread of my life.

* * *

Later, we're walking along dad's private beach, the same place where I first saw him clamber ashore. The bar is empty when there's nothing going on, but I instantly remember how my body tingled the first time he dragged me back there, pushed me against the wall, taking what was destined to be his.

I hope. I don't want this to end. As much as I know it has to, I'm going to fight it tooth and nail.

“Just a little bit further, baby. Take my hand.” He guides me up the hill. It's uneven ground, but it's perfect time to catch the summer sun over the Pacific, and the short, rugged journey is worth it.

We pick a spot and sit together. It's as picturesque as it is cliche, my head tucked into his shoulder, watching the hot July sun slip below the horizon, shimmering off the sea.

“What are we going to do, Chris?”

“Party our asses off. Your old man really does have a helluva spot for it. Hope your friend keeps the guest list light so we can still find some place to fuck, though.”

“Idiot!” I laugh and punch him in the arm, shaking my head. “I'm talking about us. We can barely hide it in front of Marnie, much less mom and dad. They're going to find out.”

“So let 'em. We're not doing anything illegal, babe. I've come to terms with how fucking bad I want this.” Growling, he grabs my thigh, and pushes his hand right up my skirt, tugging at my panties. I gasp, and it's a struggle to keep listening to what he's saying. “I'm not letting go, Delia. Never. I don't care if I have to keep calling you sis every time we're fucking. I'll call you Cleopatra if it gets you shaking and whimpering under me.”

He moves in for a kiss. His mouth covers mine just as his fingers find my pussy, pushing their way inside, making me flush when he sees how wet I am.

He thumbs my clit until I'm laying down on the sandy bluff, legs open, perfectly positioned for him to push my skirt up and shove his face between my legs. Which, of course, he does about five seconds later.

I can't hold back my moans out here. If anyone looks out at just the right angle from our house, they'll see us tangled on this rock.

But once he starts, there's no stopping, and this proves it. He wants me. Deeper than just another fuck. I run my nails through his short hair, feeling his powerful neck, running them down, down, down into my pleasure.

His tongue quickens across my clit. I tense up, push my hips into his mouth, coming to the steady clap of the ocean against the calm shore.

He pins me down by the thighs when I cry out. There's no escaping this mad desire between us, just like there's no more hiding what's in my heart, this fuzzy, blind love that won't listen to reason or taboos.

I want him. I need him. And as long as he's with me, I'm ready for anything, even my father suffering a nervous breakdown when he finds out his only daughter is head-over-heels in love with her own fucking stepbrother.

Or should I say getting fucked heels-over-head?

When I finally come down from my high, he's got his belt off, and his pants are down. He sinks into me with a growl, pushing my legs up to my chest. Thank god the workout getting up here loosened me.

“Fuck me, Chris. Just like we're meant to be. I need to feel every inch of you.” I reach up and run my hand across his face, staring into his jade green eyes.

He bares his teeth, and thunder comes out as he comes in for a kiss, dragging his cock back to the tip before slamming it into me again. His balls clap my ass. They're warm and puckered, making me think about how he's going to flood my pussy all over again.

Oh, God.

“I'll fuck you like you're mine, babe, because you always were.” He deepens his thrust, picking up speed, making that delicious friction across my clit with his pubic bone. I whimper and melt into the motion, too lost for words, wondering if it'll always be like this.

“You were built for my dick, and mine only, Delia. I can't believe you're still doubting this shit.” He moves his hips like he's angry, and there's a wildness in his voice. “You think we're gonna get screwed over? Derailed? Torn apart?”

“No,” I whimper, but it's not convincing enough.

I do have doubts. Dealing with the stepbrother and the SEAL part scares me. I never imagined becoming a military man's girl, much less shacking up with my own stepbrother. What the hell am I supposed to do when he's away on leave? I'd better get a mold of his cock or something.

“Say it like you mean it,” he snarls, fisting my hair and fucking me harder.

His hips crash into me like the angry Pacific, rattling my whole body with his energy, his need to dominate, to control, to possess. I don't know whether to slap him across the face or orgasm on impact.

“Never, Chris. We're solid. We're lovers. We're –“

“No, no, no, no.” It comes out like a mantra, perfectly timed to his next four thrusts, body shaking strokes that leave my clit humming and breasts flopping. “We're meant to be, baby. I don't give a shit if it's crazy. I've never fucked anyone like you. Never wanted to spend time outside bed with a woman 'til you got your little nails in me. I'm never letting go of this, and if anybody wants to pull you away, I'll fucking kill them.”

Holy shit! His cock sinks deep, and he holds it there, then pulls back and begins power fucking me in quicker, shallower strokes.

There's no holding back. He jerks my hair tight, pulling my lips to his, swallowing the pleasure that comes screaming out of me when my pussy clenches a second later.

Soon, I'm not the only one screaming. Chris buries his length to the hilt and explodes, pouring his essence into me, pumping so much come into me I wonder if my pill will even protect us. In the moment, it's not such a sick thought. I'm thrilled by him knocking me up, taking full possession, owning me the same way he means with his words.

I know, I'm crazy. I know I'll feel something different once the spell is over, but maybe someday, we could have kids together. Maybe I could call him my husband. Maybe the whole world won't wag its finger at us for kissing, passion, making love...

We come together, locked like animals, thrashing in the stray sand that's blown up from the beach on this high cliff. I'm grateful for his strong arms holding me down, or else I might roll right off it. It's not the widest space, but it's the most amazing place we've ever done this.

Or maybe it's just his body digging into mine, filling me completely. I come so hard, I see stars in the rolling, red blackness my eyelids have become. There's a current flowing through both our bodies.

I've never been into supernatural crap, but it's almost mystical.

His kisses soften as our bodies stop convulsing. His cock tips into me, forcing out a few last strokes of pleasure, the last of his seed. I can already feel it running down my ass, onto the ground below us like some kind of ancient mating ritual.

“I love you,” I moan, when he finally lets me come up for air. Why is it still so hard to say it?

“You'd better. Whatever shit you're gonna say about me in your college paper's gotta be flattering.”

I laugh, and once it starts, I can't stop. He hasn't even pulled out of me yet. Something about the scene is quintessentially Chris, and my heart throbs, finally understanding his strange, magical enigma.

It's everything I can't keep myself away from. Everything that's pulled me into his embrace, so tight and deep I never, ever want him to let go.

We kiss a few more times before he pulls out and cleans up, before he straighten our clothes. I carefully stand on the cliff, wiping the dirt off my butt. I'm about to roll my panties back on when he grabs me, fisting my hand by the wrist that's holding them.

“Save yourself some time and leave those fuckers off. You ought to know by now I'm not a once-a-day kinda guy. Let's go get some dinner, and then we'll pick up right where left off.”

I blush, smile, and don't fight as he pushes the panties into my purse. I feel so vulnerable out here like this with nothing on underneath my skirt. But if there's any man who can make me feel secure, it's him, and tonight he's going to get whatever he wants.

* * *

Later that week, I'm eating with Evie and dad for the first time in forever. It's an awkward, tense dinner.

Nobody's talking since he tried to tell her about the latest crap with the airlines, some ups and downs in the stock prices making the shareholders nervous, all the worries I've heard a million times since I was a little girl.

Evie mutters incoherently and picks at her food. I down some extra wine so I don't explode, grab her by the hair, scream at her until she acknowledges my poor father fucking exists.

He's dying a little more day by day, and it's awful to watch. It's been months, and their relationship is already on fire. He can't take another collapse – I just know it. I look on sadly, feeling as if I'm replaying the last days of our family life before mom walked out and moved east, running off with her fitness trainer.

“Ladies, I'm going to be gone next week at the North American division conference I told you about. I trust you'll both be able to make do without me. I've got all the usual arrangements in place for the staff. And Cordelia, if you're going to have people over, please respect Evie's space. I don't want anyone coming upstairs to –“

Suddenly, the bitch slams her fork down, giving us both a look like a scolded cat. “Do you ever shut up and stop worrying, Bruce? You really think she's going to drag one of her little friends upstairs to disturb me with her fucking? She's too busy riding my son for that, and they like to keep it away from the house most nights.”

I almost drop my empty wineglass. Dad gives me a look of total horror. It's the first time since mom walked out that I've seen him looking like he's staring down a ten ton train, heading right for him, ready to obliterate what's left of his miserable world.

“I don't know what she's talking about,” I say weakly, clearing the nervous lump in my throat.

“Evie, Evie, Evie,” Dad shakes his head, fighting off the nightmare image she just painted so vividly for him. “This is stress talking. You need to eat. Don't worry about these things, they aren't even real. Please, baby, do it for me.”

He stands up, walks over, and throws an arm over her shoulder. It's such a pathetic scene my heart would've melted in my chest, if only it wasn't too busy pounding like a hummingbird on speed.

They almost caught me. And I hate the way I'm reacting, ice in my blood and cotton in my mouth. I thought I was ready to say fuck everybody, to bring my love for Chris out in the open.

But when I saw that look on dad's face...

My own fork slips and clatters, causing my parents to look up. Evie gives me another look, a cruel focus filling her eyes, all directed at me.

“I suggest you have a talk with your dear daughter, Bruce. She's going to slip up one day, and then you'll see the truth. I'm not imagining anything.”

“I'm sure if there were anything untoward happening, Cordelia would let me know,” he says softly, brushing aside her mad concerns.

He doesn't believe her. Good. Too bad lying is the only thing holding me back from total disaster.

Evie grabs his arm and throws him off. She staggers up, throwing her napkin down over her half-finished food, and glares at my poor whipped father.

“Your little slut has some backbone, I'll give her that. She's woman enough to go after a man, even if he's the last boy in the world she ought to be with. That's better than I've gotten, I suppose.”

“Evie...shut up.” Dad's eyes narrow. “If you call my daughter a slut again, I'll drag you back to that goddamned doctor's office, kicking and screaming if I have to. You've been through hell, and we're all here for you, but that doesn't give you the right to be such a...such a...”

Evie cocks her head and purses her lips. “Bitch? Oh, Bruce. I would've given you a kiss if you'd had the balls to finally say it. Whatever's left of that pathetic shit between your legs will just have to crawl up your stomach when you finally see the truth. I'll let you find out the hard way. You won't have to hear it from me, hubby. Good fucking night.”

My eyes are on my food. I've totally lost my appetite, but it seems safe, just in case I decide to grab the nearest thing within reach and throw it at her vicious face.

Dad sticking up for me lends a shred of hope, but he can't hold her off in the end. He rips out a chair and sinks angrily into his seat. We both listen to her heels clacking away, loud and lonely, like the hooves of some creature that just dragged itself out of hell.

With anybody else, I would've been exaggerating, but my stepmother really is a crazy bitch.

“Dad, it's going to be okay,” I whisper, reaching for his hand and squeezing it tight. “Don't listen to her. You defended me when she was accusing me of all that crap. You put her in her place.”

Well, almost, I think to myself, but of course I don't say it. I'm not sure he'll survive another blow to his fragile ego.

“I just don't understand why they all go crazy in the end,” he growls, pulling his hand away from mine. He pushes both across his tense forehead, ruffling his salt and pepper hair. “This is worse than with your mother, honey. At least her affair...well, I saw it coming. I worked too many hours. I ignored her too much. I screwed up.”

I shrug. He's beating himself up again, and I'm not going to hear it. Maybe there's a grain of truth to everything he's saying, but mom walked out on us both, and I haven't gotten more than a Christmas card from her and the new dick she's attached herself to every year since the divorce.

They moved across the country my last year of high school. Since then, it's always been dad and his favorite daughter. I know I'm the only thing in the world he can count on.

For a long time, that went both ways.

We were happy. We were one little, imperfect, happy family.

Until Evie. Until Chris.

Now, she's tearing out his heart in slow motion a few centimeters a day, and I'm lying to my own father for the last man in the world I should be falling for.

Jesus, what the hell is happening?

I shouldn't have had so much wine trying to ignore the tension over dinner. I start tearing up, and next thing I know, I'm blotting at my eyes with my napkin. Dad looks more shocked than me, wounded because he sees me hurting.

It's strange, guilt inducing, when I know he's bleeding rivers inside. He's just too proud to show it. However weak he is about calling her out, he keeps a shield around his own agony. The only times I've ever seen him cry are at funerals.

“Dad, you haven't done anything wrong here. It's all her baggage, and she has way too much of it. I'm surprised you want to keep fighting it...isn't the writing on the wall?” I'm too gentle.

Another lump forms in my throat. I can't bring myself to take him by the shoulders, shake him, tell him to divorce this fucking woman.

It's his decision to make. But it's also dishonest for me to want her gone when I have a very handsome, painfully emotional conflict of interest.

Chris keeps running through my mind now, even when I shouldn't be focused on anything except dad's screwed up relationship with his mom.

“I can't give up yet,” he says coldly. “The only thing worse than a middle aged executive whose name gets dragged through the mud every time the airline cuts costs is a middle aged executive with mud on his face and two divorces behind him.”

“I just want you to be happy,” I say softly, and I really mean it. “I'm serious. You've done so much for me, and I'll never forget it. Not as long as I live.”

Dad gives me a big smile and wraps his arms around me. “You're so sweet, Cordelia. Thanks for being my rock, like always.”

I slowly let go, feeling him pull away. He looks past me, staring down the hall.

“Well, I guess I'd better go see if she's going to keep me locked out tonight. Or she would, if I hadn't had the locks removed on our bedroom door while she was in rehab.” He shrugs. “They said it'd be a long road to getting all the junk out of her system. Please don't be too hard on her, honey, whatever nonsense she says. She's not in her right mind. She can't tell right from wrong, fantasy from what's real. It's my job to help her out.”

My fists tense at my sides, so hard my hands start to shake. He doesn't even look back as he walks away, and I let out a heavy sigh, offering him one more burst of encouragement.

“Whatever makes you happy, dad.”

Happy. There's that word again.

It's like a bullet to the heart. My happiness will never be compatible with his – not when he finds out about Chris and I. And he's going to, sooner or later. I'm going to slip up and spill it, or Chris' SEAL courage will get the best of him, and he'll march right up and tell our parents himself.

I'm not ready for that. I'm not sure if I'll ever be.

Fuck. What does that mean?

* * *

It's like I've just stepped out of a time machine. Marnie insisted on costumes and formal wear for the mid-summer party, and the entire house looks so elegant. Bows and bells are all over the place, orange-white stripes and red-white-and-blue, the wholesome décor of a simpler time.

The staff helped me set things up only hours ago, and the guests are already filing in. Dad's going to be away over the weekend at his conference, just as planned. I struggle not to step on my long, flowing blue dress that reaches to the floor.

I'm anxious to see what Chris looks like. He's supposed to wear something military, and I'm sure he'll be dashing. Of course, the finery and pretend manners won't last once the dancing starts and the liquor flows. I expect it'll be about thirty minutes before people start to lose the costumes and disappear across the property, filling every little nook and cranny with their own private fucking.

It's my last year of college. I'm almost ready to move on from this wild, free spirited stuff, but going out with a bang a couple more times won't hurt, right?

There's a loud chime as I'm taking the stairs gingerly, one at a time, careful not to trip on my skirt and break my neck. I get to the door ahead of any staff.

When Marnie shows up with her tangerine man, she throws her arms around me, wearing something that looks it belongs in a lounge from the roaring twenties.

“Delia, darling!” she says in her best aristocratic accent, pecking me on each cheek. “Where's that handsome soldier boy of yours?”

The warm smile I greet her with vanishes. She's still eyeing my sexy, badass stepbrother a little too close for my liking, and tempting me to pull the big secret out of the closet too.

She knows we're doing more than just having drinks and taking walks as siblings. I force my sweetest smile, greet the gorilla next to her, and then lean in.

“He'll be by a little later, Delia. Why don't you go mingle with everybody else and get your man a drink for a change?”

“Fine, we'll do it your way.” She rolls her eyes, walking past me without so much a second glance.

I'm about to head after her, hoping I can change the subject and smooth things over, when somebody grabs me by the shoulder.

I know it's Chris before we're face to face, and his lips are on mine. Nobody else puts his hands on me like this, like he already owns every inch of me. Nobody kisses like he does.

“Sneaky jerk,” I whimper, when his tongue glides off mine. “Do they teach you that stuff in SEAL training?”

“Nah. Handling my woman comes naturally. I came ready for you tonight, babe.” He steps back so I can get a look at his costume.

I almost faint on the spot like some goofy nineteenth century romance heroine.

Swoon-worthy is the only word that fits. His clothes cling tight to the hard, tattooed muscle underneath. He's wearing an elegant white uniform that almost looks like a tuxedo, studded with more medals on one side than I can count.

The buttons part his magnificent chest neatly, and when I look up to his face again, I notice the final touch. I can't stop myself from laughing, more amazed than anything else.

“A bow-tie? Are you kidding me? Don't tell me – you added that yourself!”

He smiles and shrugs. “Guess you've never seen a SEAL's dinner dress before. You told me to look like a prince, yeah?”

“I meant something a little less modern.” My hand flows out instinctively, flattening on his chest, slowly creeping down it. “I guess this'll do.”

Yeah. Understatement of the century.

He makes me think of a sailor, a knight, and a classy billionaire all at once. If it wasn't for the tiny splash of ink sneaking out one cufflink, nobody would ever know about the animal underneath, the one I've met night after night, and desperately want to meet again.

“You said prince, beautiful. I figure this shit's about as antiquated as royalty. Not really my style, but orders are orders, and you're the CO of this bash tonight.” He winks.

The heat between my legs officially goes nova.

God. I already want him to rip it off. Something about the thick, formal layers only accent the perfection underneath. It reminds me what he can do when he's got me under him, between his legs, fucking me with those powerful, unforgettable strokes that take me to another world.

“Shit, woman, sometimes I think you're hornier than I am.” His eyes tell me I'm not the only doing the eye-fucking here.

With a growl, Chris takes me by the hand, and sneaks in a rough pat on the ass. I can barely feel it through the thick dress, but it's just enough to get me moving, gladly holding him by the arm.

The doorbell keeps ringing behind us, letting in more of Marnie's crowd. She handles all the party planning crap. I trust her because she sticks to the good kids, the ones who just like to drink too much and get down with their boyfriends and girlfriends. Nobody truly harmful who'd steal from us or light the house on fire ever gets in.

We saunter into the big dining room off the kitchen. The doors are propped open, leading out onto the pool deck. Frowning, I look through the window, and see several people have already lost their tuxedos and dresses, stripping down to bare essentials for swimming instead.

“That didn't take long,” I say, tugging on Chris' arm and pointing.

He grins and laughs. “What? You expect people to wander around out there in these getups and bake underneath the sun? Stripping to cool off comes with a high summer party's territory, Delia.”

I elbow him gently. I don't like it when he chides me, even though he's completely right. He's so damned bossy and sure of himself. He knows it doesn't take much to get me wet, and I hate it almost as much as I love it.

“Aw, don't give me that sass,” he growls. “Let's stop worrying about everybody else and enjoy ourselves.” Before I can say anything else, he jerks me over to the alcohol, where I let him serve me a glass of punch.

He's strangely lit today, humming to himself as he does. It's like the weight of the world is off his shoulders. Or is it another kind of tension? Something I'm seeing underneath the surface, but can't quite pin down?

It's hard to study his face without feeling everything below my waist go hot. This damned dress makes me like a dozen times more hot and bothered too. It won't be long before I'm begging to lose my panties if this keeps up.

“Drink up. Cool off.” Smiling, he shoves the punch into my hand, and gets himself a glass of beer from the huge keg next to the table. “I want you to loosen up. We're dancing when it kicks off later.”

“No way!” I almost choke, coughing strong punch down the wrong tube. “Chris, I don't dance. Not when I'm wearing this!”

I look down, and he laughs at me again. It's all the signal he needs to grab me by the waist and pull me into him. For just a second, I see that spark in his eyes.

It's not just my imagination. It's different, but I'm not sure if it's because we know we're in love, or because everything we've built is about to come crashing down.

“You danced with me our first night. Remember how good we felt together on the beach?”

His hand slides down my hip, cups my ass through the waves of blue, and squeezes. Oh, shit.

“That...wasn't exactly...dancing. It's going to be crazy tonight, Chris. All these drunken people spinning around, trying to dance to classical.”

Well, at least for one song. Knowing Marnie, the waltz will be a short-lived prank, before she falls back on the usual hip-hop, dubstep, and rock.

“Bullshit,” he growls into my ear, clenching my ass cheek harder. It makes me think about all the times he pulls me open, pushing his tongue into me from behind, and I shudder. “You dance just fine when you're skin to skin. I know you can do it dressed up with me too. Have a little confidence. It's like you really think all these skanks are prettier than you.”

His free hand sweeps over my face, tucking a stray lock over my ear. “I'm not having it tonight, Delia. This is our big blowout. You're mine, and I don't give a shit if everybody knows it. I want every asshole jock here to eat his fucking heart out when he sees your lips on mine. I want 'em to shake their girls all night because they'll be jealous, thinking about us.”

“Chris...” I'm speechless, and he pushes a finger over my lips, signaling he isn't done.

“I want everyone to see how goddamned amazing you are, how lucky I am, how hard I'm gonna fight if anybody ever comes within sniffing distance of what's mine.” He pauses to kiss the nook between my shoulder and my ear, and my hips instinctively tilt into his. “That's you, babe. All mine. Forever. No going back.”

Crap. How the heck are we supposed to dance when I'm already coming apart?

“We'll figure out some way to tell your old man later on, when he comes home. For now, we're coming out as a couple. I'm claiming you for everybody to see, Delia, and I don't give a shit if they've heard me call you sis.”

My heart sputters, tries to stop about ten times, before I can finally catch my breath. His iron grip releases me, and I stumble away, eyeing more punch. I need a break, a distraction, before I lose my mind.

I never imagined half the things he's saying coming out of his arrogant mouth. But today he's so sweet, so humble. What's going on? Is this real life?

“Why tonight, Chris? Why now?” I ask softly, letting him ladle more drink into my cup. “There's something up, isn't there?”

“It's nothing you need to worry about. Unless you count all the ways you're gonna batten down the hatches before I fuck you through the floor tonight.” His smile sharpens, and that hunger in his green eyes I know all too well turns them into spotlights. “You think we light it up every night we're naked? Just wait 'til you see what feeling your curves against me for a few more hours does before I'm balls deep.”

The thought makes me shudder. I can't resist as he moves in for another kiss. My panties are past uncomfortably soaked, and it's going to be a long haul to heading upstairs, or wherever the hell he plans to take me tonight for the grand finale.

“There you are! My, is it just the uniform, or do you two always do this?” Marnie's voice sneaks up behind me, and I'm beet red by the time we break our kiss and turn around.

Shit. She's in full gloat, staring at us like she just caught our hands in the cookie jar. Or just his rough hand on my ass like it belongs, his lips on mine, moving and drinking me in with the skill of a man who's tamed dozens of girls before me.

“Good to see you too, Marnie,” Chris says. “We were gonna save it for the dance floor, but I guess you've got yourself an early preview. Here's one more.”

My limbs freeze up as he pulls me in for another kiss. My palms slap his chest, wondering if he's lost his mind. Something about having my snooty best friend watching us lock lips makes the heat greater, intense, moving through my body like lightning.

When he finally breaks away and I look up, her nasty smile is gone. She's looking at us both like she wants to sink into the ground and die of shock – something I've never seen before. Marnie doesn't do speechless – until now.

“Well? Any questions?” Chris beams at her. He won't let up.

She shakes her head, still totally lost for words. I want to laugh, but he does it for me, chuckling in his rich, sexy baritone.

“Good, good. Now show us what's happening out by the pool so we can get this party going.”

* * *

Hours blur by, and we're still dancing. I've never needed him this badly, never been this turned on, never felt every inch of my body pleading to stay pressed so tight to his.

Heavy bass throbs in my ears each time I lift my head off his chest. Chris just presses it back down with a possessive growl, running his hands all over me, swinging me with grace and power across the pool deck.

When we first started, beneath the evening sun, all eyes were on us. I swore I saw a couple people turn away in disgust the first time he put his mouth on mine, knowing we're stepsiblings, but everybody else broke into applause – even Marnie.

It's a strange, fantastic truth he's pulling me into. I don't want the fairy tale to end.

“You think if I hike up that skirt and fuck you right here, anybody will notice?” he leans in and rumbles in my ear, clasping my ass as our bodies lurch together one more time.

“I'm not an exhibitionist, Christopher,” I gasp back, hoping the long, formal version of his name might slow down the beast dragging his hands all over me, grinding my hips into his in a way that already resembles full on fucking.

He's right about one thing – everybody else is too wasted to notice. We're one of the only couples left out here since nighttime came. Everybody else is off lounging by the pool, floating lazily with a drink in their hands, or finding some quiet corner to get hot and heavy.

It's young lust and revelry at its finest. Sex is in the air, but it's really his scent that's completely intoxicating.

“Fuck.” His hands pinch my ass tight, so hard I can't help but roll my pussy against the insane ridge in his trousers. “You call me Christopher again, and you're gonna get another spanking, girl. I won't even wait 'til we're out of sight neither.”

“Yeah? How do you know Evie isn't watching us from some window, perched up there like a cat?”

It's a legit worry. I haven't heard from the bitch all day, not since dad left. It's almost too quiet with this party going on, after the threats she made.

Chris just snorts, and shuts me up with another kiss. “Forget about her. She's probably too whacked out on her sleeping pills to know what a fucking window is, much less find us. Your old man's really a goddamned angel for putting up with her as long as he has.”

I can't deny that. It also freezes my blood, wondering how dad will react to Chris and I. It's all but inevitable now, especially since my friends have seen him putting his lips all over mine.

Chris starts spinning me again, pulling me into him, turning me over and rocking his cock up and down the dress stretched tight over my ass. God, he feels good.

So amazing he carries me away from all this, lifts me higher than the worries trying to bury me. There's nothing that can come between us. He's staked his claim, and I'm ready to catch hell to keep it, whatever it takes to keep me in his warrior embrace forever.

There's no more time for heady thoughts when he makes me bend over and grabs his hips. I flush for a second, embarrassed because we're dressed way too nice to be dancing out here like we're doing it doggie style. But I feel his hand across my thigh, and his thrusts grind my clit through all the clothing, cranking the firestorm in my blood to ten thousand degrees.

Damn! I need him to fuck me again, just as bad as I need a cool glass of water.

My hips start rolling back against his. For at least a minute, I'm honest-to-God twerking, and I wonder what kind of big slut he's turned me into.

My eyes don't want to focus through the sultry summer heat, the lust, the pleasure he's pushing through my system. I look up and see several drunken, grinning faces from the pool leering at us, frat boys and sorority girls alike.

Crap. I tear myself up, but Chris catches me, takes my hands in his, and he won't let go. He turns me around so I'm facing away from the crowd before it's right back into the same position, bent over and dangerously positioned against his unstoppable cock.

“We're not leaving this dance floor 'til you come for me, beautiful. I want you to lose it just like that first night.” He leans in, brushing his sandpaper stubble across my cheek, breathing into my ear so hot I think I'm going to combust.

“Are you crazy?” I'm trying to be serious. Too bad crazy comes out as a moan when I feel his friction on my clit, pulling me deeper into this nasty, animal heat. “We can't do it out here! They're watching us.”

“Let 'em.” He's dead serious, and that's when I know I'm in too deep with a man who's totally nuts beneath his handsome exterior. “I meant everything I said after I got here, Delia. Everybody's gonna see us dance, baby, and I don't give a single fuck.”

He rips me up, spins me in his arms, and my whole world shatters. One hand grabs my ass, stiffens me against him, and the other somehow shoots all the way underneath my skirt, slowly making its way up, down beneath my panties.

He shoves his fingers inside me, giving my clit a rough stroke with his thumb, before I can even protest.

Oh, God. Oh, fuck. Oh, no!

“Chris, it's too much. I can't come like this. I can't come standing up with everybody just staring at us...”

“Nobody's seeing shit,” he growls. “You've got your back turned. Looks just like we're dancing. And we are, babe. Bring it home. Give me your finest moves now, and I'll give you mine all goddamned night. Deal?”

I lick my lips. My throat feels like a desert. I'm probably dehydrated from the sopping wet mess I've made in my pants, and my pussy still won't stop creaming on his fingers.

He's swaying me gently, moving his hand just perfectly. I still think the assholes behind us can see everything if they really look, but it probably looks like a gentle waltz, like two drunken, overdressed lovers at a wedding swaying to the rhythmic drumming pouring out the speakers.

Deal. I can't say it, but it's all I can think as he strokes my clit harder.

My knees buckle, ready to send me crashing to the ground, but the badass SEAL holds me up. Just when I think I can't do it, he proves me wrong.

His lips come down on my mine. My body explodes. I come so hard I see stars, feeling my pussy clench around his fingers, fucking me with deep precision. My clit aches, burns, and pulses against his hand.

I fight crying out, but I end up doing it in his mouth instead. He devours my pleasure, and keeps stroking my cunt, a prelude to all the ways I know he'll be taking me with his magnificent cock later tonight.

I'm literally collapsing by the time the storm passes. I fall down against him and he holds me tight, wiping sweat off my brow, kissing me more gingerly.

“J-Jesus Christ! I can't believe you made me do that,” I stammer. “We've got to set some boundaries, Mister.”

He chuckles, low and masculine. Christ, even his laugh makes me burn for him, makes me want to drop to my knees and suck his cock right here in the open. I don't know what the hell I'm turning into.

“You leave that to me, baby. I know where you've got your hard limits, and I'm gonna push them all.”

“But why?” I bite my lip and look into his eyes.

“Because you're mine, dammit. You were a fucking virgin just a few weeks ago, Delia. I'm the only man you've ever had, the only one you'll ever have. I'm going to burn these memories into you, leave you something to fuck yourself to every minute I'm overseas, taking care of business for Uncle Sam.”

My heart drops. Is that what he's worried about? He thinks I'm going to run off with another man or lose interest when he isn't around on those long tours of duty?

It should piss me off. I want to believe I've earned his trust, but something about this chink in his armor, disguised in all his usual dirty language, feels sweet.

Regaining my strength post-climax, I stand up on my tip-toes and push my lips against his, kissing him with a whole new hunger. No, it's not just about his insecurities.

He's opening up to me right now by telling me this, showing me a single glaring crack in the ruthless testosterone I'm used to. My hand comes up, and I run it across his face, admiring his powerful jaw.

We kiss for several more minutes. My thighs shift together, desperate to lose these panties, hungry to feel him wedged between them.

“You know there's nothing to worry about, right? I don't know how I'll be a military girl, but I'll learn. You're worth it.” Smiling, I tell him everything, hoping it's everything he wants to hear.

“These missions don't always go smoothly, babe. Sometimes guys get killed. Or captured. They might not come back for years.” There's an edge in his voice like he's preparing me for something, like he knows we're about to run headfirst into the worst challenges a military love can face.

“Come on. I've done my research for that stupid paper I need to have drafted in a couple weeks. I have some idea what it's like for those poor military wives...”

He cocks his head, smug disbelief lining his lips. “You've got theory and no experience. Not yet. You really ready to put your life on hold for me? To accept there's a chance I might not come home at all?”

He's giving me one more chance to back out. For a second, it all swirls around in my head, foggy and anxious. Then I shake my head furiously, brow furrowed. I want to slap him across the face and tell him to pull it all together – I've been able to handle everything before, right?

Why the hell would I crack up now? I never, ever want to let go of this man, and I'm ready to face the threat that one day his job could make me.

I lean in and whisper in his ear, doing my best imitation of something I know he'd say. “As long as you keep bringing me off like you do, I'm ready for anything. Are we going to stand around talking all night, Chris, or are you going to take me downstairs and fuck me?”

His eyes light up and he laughs. “Good thinking, princess. Guess you've learned a thing or two about pleasing a military boy after all.”

* * *

Five minutes later, my dress is falling off, and I'm pressed up against the wall. There's too many people lounging around the house or sleeping, so we sneak downstairs, into the basement.

Dad's wine cellar is always locked. Thank god, or else we'd probably find a few partiers down here, drunk and passed out in a puddle of thousand dollar booze.

We've got to be careful with all the bottles. There's a granite counter with a sink in the center, and that's where Chris makes me perch, tearing off my dress as he sucks at my neck.

“Come on. You can go faster than that. Get me naked.” I rake my nails across his chest, so overwhelmed with need. “I have to feel you inside me.”

Holy shit. It's like I'm in heat, and all I can think about is that dragon on his chest swaying while he fucks me, the trident moving across his muscular canvas like a lightning bolt.

“Working on it. I'm doing you a courtesy, babe, trying not to shred this fancy dress that's had my cock throbbing all night. We're gonna be doing this again.”

“Who cares?” I hook my legs around his hips and run them along his strong ass, begging to feel him. Right now, I wouldn't give a crap if he tore it off me. “I'm a trust fund girl, you know, and a really kickass bargain shopper.”

He stops, looks at me, and grins. “Suit yourself.”

His powerful hands reach behind me and my mouth falls open as I hear the shearing sound of fabric. He completely tears my dress off, and flings it on the floor, moving his hands to my bra and panties next.

They're gone in a half a heartbeat. I'm trying to work on him too, but my fingers keep trembling like a prom girl's. I'm just too damned horny to get more than a few buttons off.

He moves his hands over mine, helps me do it quicker. The princely military suit he's been wearing all evening opens up and reveals the bad boy underneath. His inks fill my eyes, stamped on every rock hard inch of him. The delicious contrast between gentleman and bastard in his body makes my pussy tingle, and I help shove his jacket completely off him.

“All these wines,” he growls, taking a quick look around. “Shame all I wanna taste in this damned room's right in front of me.”

Without another word, he drops down, grabs my ass, and pulls me to his mouth. I'm clenching at the non-existing sheets the instant his tongue slides up my folds, picking up where his fingers left off, before rising to my clit.

“Chris!” I squeal, hoping the thick glass door sealing this room can contain us.

I'm amazed once again how quickly he unravels me. My muscles limber up, then tighten as the pleasure mounts, bound by his tongue smacking my clit again and again and again.

His green eyes are gazing up at me the entire time too. He pulls me tighter, halfway off the counter. Holding me up with his rough hands, he forces me to ride his face, introducing a whole new pleasure.

I should've gotten used to his tongue working its magic in Vegas. Or if not, then certainly all the weeks we've been fucking, but it still feels brand new, something I'll never stop wanting like it's our very first time.

He licks me deep, building to a crescendo, playing the tension in my body like a master conductor. My hips buck against his face as he growls and holds me down. The great wave I know all too well every time I'm with him rises up and swallows me whole.

Fire. Pleasure. Climax.

I come hard and cry out, digging my nails into his head, holding him so hard against my pussy I'm afraid he's going to suffocate.

Thankfully, SEALs are too tough to drown between a woman's legs. Chris just licks me more aggressively, sweeps his tongue across my clit while it's pinched between his teeth, carrying me through the brilliant, screaming storm.

I never know when I stop coming. When I open my eyes, he's naked and on top of me, shoving his cock through my wet silk. I feel his balls jerk to a stop against my ass, and my pussy twitches, flexing around him.

He's so fucking perfect. We're perfect, molded to fit together in the fullest carnal sense.

“There's a good chance I'm leaving soon, baby. Make tonight count,” he growls, stopping to stamp his hot lips and stubble across my throat. He sucks the nook below my ear so hard I know he'll leave a bruise, and I don't care.

“What? There's a mission?”

“Never can tell. That's up to the higher ups. But I know when I smell shit going down, and right now it's an open sewer.” He runs his hand through my hair, tugs my locks in one fist, and pulls, just as he rears back and drives his cock into me again. “Fuck me just like that. Fuck me like you're gonna take my dick when I finally come home. Let's do this thing so hard I'll feel like I'm already having homecoming sex.”

“Chris...”

I say his name softly, but the time for tenderness is over. All the wild energies from the party take over.

His cock slams into me again and again, so much force my hips flex off the table before smashing back into it. I pinch my legs around him, tighter than I've ever held him before. I love how he feels just gliding through my hot, wet pussy, straight up to my womb, and then coming down again, only to lunge forward and fill me all over again.

It's rhythmic. It's fiery. It's so intense I'm on the verge of tears when he starts to grunt and tense up.

The wine cellar always feels a little humid, but tonight it's a damned sauna. Sweat rolls off us in rivulets, and I impulsively rise at one point when he slows his strokes, kissing the drops off his chest.

He tastes salty, masculine, strong.

Just like the sea that keeps calling him away from me, the ocean that wants to pull him away from our love, into dangers I can't comprehend.

His mouth covers mine, owning it. His tongue punches deep, fucking me with the same rough tempo in his hips. I kiss him back harder, sucking him as hard and long as I can, throwing my hands over his neck and digging my nails deep.

“Fuck!” he grunts like a wolf, and I see the killer instinct sparkling in his dark green eyes.

I thought our night was crazy before, but now I feel like a total psycho. A deprived, depraved, sexually famished lunatic. The only cure in the world is his cock, his come.

His sweat, his scent, his thrusts.

“Fuck me so hard it hurts,” I tell him, digging my nails into his neck. “Show me what you've got, Chris, before you take it all to the battlefield. I want you to break me. Leave me something to remember, no matter what happens. Mark me.”

I hear myself saying this crap, and I know I've lost my mind. But deep in my heart, it all feels right, and I realize I owe it all to him.

The virgin good girl died in Vegas. I'm his woman now, and I want to be everything he wants, the brightest, most beautiful spark in his churning inferno.

He doesn't say a word. He starts fucking me faster, faster, faster than we've ever gone before.

His hands squeeze my ass so hard it hurts, lifting me off the granite countertop and slamming me back down again. It's probably going to lose a few bruises, but so what?

The pleasure arcing through my body overwhelms everything. His chest moves so fast the dragon moves like a comet. My arms and legs are burning, and it's hard to breathe. All the oxygen in my lungs drops out as the most intense orgasm of my whole life rips out.

“Chris!” His name rockets out before I'm overwhelmed. It takes all the energy in my body to squeeze out the last two words. “Love. You.”

He's slamming me against the counter like a ragdoll, just as breathless as I am, right on the edge. My pussy clenches as his cock starts to balloon, a prelude to the fire about to fill me, hot come flooding my depths in waves.

He shoves his face against my neck, sucks my flesh into his mouth, and bites down. Hard.

The shock makes my explosion ten times harder.

I come like it's the last time. Ever.

A thousand futures roll before my eyes in a single heartbeat, all the futures with Chris I want and need. Pleasure roars like rising flames, crackling all around me, blinding me, fusing me to him.

I hear him grunt through the swirling chaos, and feel his seed split me in two. We're hooked. One.

Pumping, twitching, groaning, melting...

This time the ecstasy hits like a tornado, stronger and wilder by the second, pulling me deeper into its undertow. I can't let up, can't breathe, can't even recognize who the hell I am. There's just him and I, his cock and my pussy, plus about a million bolts of lightning tearing me apart.

Everything goes white. Then red and black. My clit feels like it's going to burst if it doesn't drown in his come first, overflowing all around us. I want to hold onto it, the pleasure and his seed, root it inside me while his cock continues to jerk, taking his last pleasure while my pussy convulses.

But I can't. I've come close to passing out a dozen times with him before, and this time I actually do.

Fuck.