Securing Brenae Page 3

  It was a short ride up to the third floor and before she knew it, they were inside their two-bedroom apartment.

  The second the door closed behind them, Dag took her hand in his and made a beeline for their bedroom.

  Surprised, Brenae followed him without a word. She was hungry, as they’d been on the beach for hours, but she didn’t complain. Whatever Dag needed right now, she’d gladly provide for him.

  He headed straight for the bathroom attached to their master bedroom. It wasn’t anything special, Formica countertops, the walls a putrid green color. But since it was a rental, it wasn’t like she was going to spend the money or time to remodel. Dag held on to her hand even as he leaned over and turned on the water in the shower. Then he stood and looked her in the eyes as he finally dropped her hand and began stripping.

  Brenae couldn’t help but stare at her husband. At fifty-three, he was still just as handsome as he’d been at twenty-one. More so, actually. He’d lost his boyish hotness and now looked distinguished. His brown hair was turning silver and the scruff of his beard was gray rather than the dark brown it used to be. He had lines on either side of his eyes, but the look in them was just as intense now as it had been when he was in college.

  He tugged off his shirt and Brenae licked her lips in anticipation. His biceps bulged with his movements, and she loved the prominent the veins in his forearms.

  He couldn’t quite keep up with the SEALs who trained on the beach every morning anymore, but he wasn’t exactly ready for the nursing home, either. His stomach was still flat, and he still had the faint outline of a six-pack there. He was so incredibly handsome…and he was all hers.

  “You gonna join me?” Dag asked softly as he pushed his jeans down his muscular thighs. The bulge in his boxer briefs could still make her mouth water in anticipation. Her man might be in his fifties, but damn, he was so fucking hot, sometimes Brenae still had a hard time believing he was with her.

  Dag had been her first and only lover, and she’d never felt as if she’d missed out on anything. He’d always made sure she was satisfied before he took his own pleasure. Every single time. Dag was a generous lover, and inventive too.

  When he shoved his underwear down his legs, Brenae licked her lips again and shook herself out of the trance she’d been in. Removing her own clothes in record time, she was soon as naked as her husband. She was showing her age a bit more than she was comfortable with, but Dag’s eyes never failed to sparkle when he saw her naked, and that was all she cared about.

  He held out a hand to steady her as she stepped over the rim of the bathtub into the generic shower, much too small for her liking. Dag joined her immediately. Reaching for the water, he turned it just a bit hotter, then sat down at the bottom of the tub.

  Knowing what he needed, Brenae turned her back to the water, and straddled her husband’s thighs. The second she was seated upon him, his knees came up, pressing her into his chest and cocooning them in the bottom of the tub, the air quickly filling with steam. Brenae wrapped her arms around Dag’s neck and buried her nose into the space between his neck and shoulder. She felt his arms clamp around her as well. One around her waist, keeping her steady, and the other around her upper back.

  It wasn’t often Dag wanted to cuddle like this. But in the privacy of their home, the steam so thick around them it was hard to even see each other, he let down his guard. With her. Only with her.

  Brenae felt his chest heave with the first sob, and her arms tightened. Tears fell from her own eyes as she held her big tough Navy SEAL while he cried. Cried because the person he’d thought was his friend, someone he’d respected, had turned against his government and had tried to murder someone. He’d let greed take over his life and change him into a man Dag didn’t know anymore.

  Brenae knew tomorrow, her husband would be back to normal. Would be the man everyone looked up to and respected. The man who’d stand face to face with his friend’s widow and let her blame him if she needed to. But here in their little corner of the world, Dag was a man who needed the loving embrace of his wife.

  Chapter Three

  Rear Admiral Dag Creasy woke up in the middle of the night and turned to look at his wife. The last week had sucked, but Brenae handled it like she always did. From holding his friend’s widow as she cried, to organizing with the other spouses to make sure there was food in her freezer, to ensuring her children were getting counseling.

  Dag knew being married to him wasn’t the easiest thing in the world, especially as his rank climbed. When he’d met Brenae, she’d been a naïve waitress trying to make it through community college. Neither of them would’ve ever guessed thirty years later, she’d be hobnobbing with the highest-ranking officers in the US Navy. She’d even met the First Lady of the United States when the President had come into town for some political thing.

  But the thing he loved most about his wife was how she’d never lost her down-to-earth qualities. She was the one person he could truly be himself with. He could prop his feet on their coffee table, drink beer, and burp to his heart’s content as he watched Sunday night football, and she wouldn’t even blink.

  She was his rock.

  The one person who he knew without a doubt would be there for him no matter what.

  When he’d injured his leg on a mission when he’d been a SEAL, Brenae had been the one who’d pulled his head out of his ass and made him get into physical therapy. If it hadn’t been for her browbeating, he might still be in a wheelchair today. When he’d hit rock bottom, suffering from PTSD and feeling depressed over his injury, and he’d tried to make her hate him, she’d seen through his bravado, climbed into their bed late at night, and simply held him. She’d told him over and over how much she loved him, and it didn’t matter if he never walked again, she wasn’t ever going to leave him. He was stuck with her.

  A week ago, after he’d watched a man he’d liked and respected shoot himself in the head, she’d once again been his savior. She’d refused to leave the beach, and every time he’d looked over and seen her patiently waiting for him, sitting on the hard rock wall as if she’d wait there all night if she had to, it had grounded him. Helped him get through one of the worst evenings he’d had in a very long time.

  Then she’d taken him into her arms in their crappy apartment shower and held him as he’d wept. She never judged him. She took him as he was, and he loved her more than life itself.

  It was early, the light from the full moon still bright as it shone through the thin piece-of-shit curtains in the master bedroom. Dag scowled, deciding to put more pressure on the contractor to get their fucking house finished faster. They’d done their time living in tiny apartments. He wanted to give his wife the world, and this apartment just wasn’t cutting it.

  Slowly, he eased the sheet down until he could see every inch of his wife. He wanted to turn the light on so he could really see her, but honestly, he didn’t need the light because he knew every inch of his Brenae’s body. At fifty-one, she was just as beautiful to him as she’d been at nineteen. Her light brown hair was the same color as it’d been the day they got married…thanks to the hair stylist she went to every other month. She had stretch marks on her belly from carrying their two children, and he knew she thought her thighs and butt were too big and her tits sagged too much.

  But he loved every fucking inch of her. She was his. The one thing that gotten him through the darkest of missions when he’d been a SEAL. She was the reason he did what he did…to make her proud of him. She was his light. His everything.

  The air in the room was cool because Brenae hated being hot when she slept. He watched as her nipples tightened into hard little buds as they were exposed to the chilly air. He couldn’t wait until they were in their new house with the giant ceiling fan above their four-poster bed, which was currently in storage. He’d worked hard to give Brenae the material things she deserved. But the thing about his wife was, Dag knew that while she enjoyed the shoes, jewelry, and nice furniture he’d
been able to give to her, ultimately, she didn’t give a shit about any of it.

  Being here in this small apartment didn’t faze her, as long as they were together.

  Leaning over, Dag took one of her tits into his hand, plumping it, and then wrapped his lips around one turgid little nipple. He smiled against her flesh when he felt one of her hands cup the back of his head and hold him to her.

  “What time is it?” she whispered.

  Lifting his head just enough to answer, Dag said, “Early.”

  “You didn’t get enough last night?” she asked with a small groan.

  “I’ll never get enough of you,” Dag told her honestly. His stamina had lessened over the years, but all that meant was that he could spend more time loving his wife. The days of him being able to fuck her twice in a row were gone, but that didn’t mean Brenae couldn’t come more than once.

  Knowing she was awake now, Dag straddled his wife and hovered over her. His cock was at half-mast and brushed against her trimmed pubic hair. He wasn’t concerned with the state of his dick. When it was time to enter her, he’d be more than ready. The highlight of his life was feeling Brenae come under his tongue or fingers, and feeling how hot and wet she was when he finally slid inside her welcoming depths.

  The memory of the first time he’d taken her—and had found out she was a virgin—was something he’d never forget. She’d trusted him with her body then, and she’d shown over and over again since that she trusted him with whatever he needed or wanted from her. It was humbling at the same time it was intoxicating, and to this day, even a little scary.

  “I don’t think I said thank you for last week,” he told her, looking into her eyes. He knew they were a beautiful blue, but in the dim light of the room, he couldn’t make out anything but their shape.

  “You don’t have to thank me,” she assured him.

  “I do,” Dag said softly. “You always let me be who I am. Whether that’s a rear admiral, someone who just wants to goof off, or a broken man.”

  “You weren’t broken,” Brenae said immediately. “You’re the strongest man I’ve ever met. But you can’t always be strong. When you’ve reached the end of your rope, that’s where I come in. I’ll wrap my hands around yours and help you hang on until you can start climbing again.”

  Dag swallowed hard. How he’d gotten so lucky, he’d never know. Brenae had raised their son and daughter practically by herself. He’d been gone on so many missions, he couldn’t even keep track. But Brenae hadn’t complained. Not once. She’d just done what needed doing. Just as she’d done when he’d gotten hurt. And when the politics of being his wife caught up to her, and she was the brunt of malicious gossip from other jealous officer wives, she’d held her head up and refused to let them get to her. She was beautiful, gracious, and so fucking strong, she humbled him. He never felt embarrassed or guilty for crying. Not when he could do so in her arms. She held him so tightly, he knew everything was going to be all right.

  Knowing he couldn’t speak or he’d risk embarrassing himself, Dag moved down her body and settled between her legs. He smiled when she propped herself up with pillows behind her back. She liked to watch him eat her out. Once telling him that seeing how much he enjoyed it made her embarrassment over the act, wane.

  Dag started by kissing Brenae’s inner thigh gently. Then licking where his lips had touched. She squirmed and he grinned, loving that he could so easily turn her on. He nibbled on her flesh for a while, before moving up to the crease of her leg. She widened her thighs and he couldn’t help but move his attentions between her legs.

  Using his fingers to spread her lower lips apart, he dropped his head. He started out slow, gently licking and caressing her. But it wasn’t long before she moaned.

  “Dag, stop teasing me.”

  “I’m not teasing,” he said, looking up at her while using his fingers to lightly caress her. “It’s foreplay.”

  “You’re driving me crazy and you know it. Please. Lick my clit.”

  Smiling, Dag lowered his head. He loved how impatient Brenae was. She used to be so shy. Never asking for what she wanted. He’d taught her everything there was to know about sex, and he couldn’t help but be proud of the sensual woman she was today. She wasn’t afraid to tell him she wasn’t in the mood, but she also was more than happy being the aggressor when she was feeling horny. And he loved that they both still enjoyed sex thirty years after they’d gotten married. Many couples, regardless of their age, weren’t so lucky.

  He felt her hands cup his head. His hair was too short for her to get a good grip, but she did her best to try to shove him where she wanted him. Laughing, Dag let her steer him to her clit. It was exactly where he wanted to be anyway. Loved feeling how hard the little nub got and how it peeked out from beneath the protective hood when she was particularly turned on.

  Brenae squirmed under him when he eased a finger into her body as he teased her clit.

  “God, Dag, that feels so good,” she said huskily.

  His mouth was busy, so he couldn’t reply, but it felt amazing to him too.

  Suddenly wanting to be inside his wife more than he wanted anything else, Dag lifted his head and brought his other hand up to her clit. Using her own juices to lubricate his thumb, he blew cool air over her pussy as he added a finger inside her sheath and began to manipulate her clit with his thumb.

  “God! Dag!” Brenae exclaimed, and her hips came up off the bed as he finger-fucked her.

  “So beautiful,” he murmured as he watched her writhe under his hands.

  They might’ve had their issues as a married couple, but not once had he ever had the urge to take someone else to his bed. Only Brenae could turn him on. Only Brenae could satisfy him.

  Her head tilted back, and she let go of his head to reach for the sheets. Her hands fisted and she groaned long and low as every muscle in her body tensed.

  Dag groaned right along with her; he knew firsthand how those tense muscles felt around his dick when she came with him deep inside her.

  Moving quickly, he got up on his knees and physically picked up Brenae and turned her onto her stomach. He lifted her hips high into the air and pushed his hard cock inside her still spasming sheath.

  Brenae gasped as she got up on her hands, but pushed back against him when he pulled her toward him. Holding her still, making her take just what he wanted to give her, Dag pressed back inside her. Looking down, he could just make out her juices coating his dick, making it shiny in the dim light.

  Putting a hand on her back, he urged her down. Immediately acquiescing, she turned her head so her cheek was on the sheet. She moved her arms down to her sides and beneath her, just as he knew she’d do, and he felt her fingers brushing against his dick as he pulled out. She caressed his balls even as she lazily fingered her clit with her other hand.

  This was one of their favorite positions. She could get herself off, fondle him, and he could reach her tits at the same time. He leaned over her, bracing himself on one hand while the other pinched a nipple. They both groaned and her hand tightened on his balls. If he had his way, he’d still be fucking his wife this way when they were both in their eighties. He’d never get enough of her. Never.

  Knowing he wasn’t going to last long, as he could already feel the slight tingle in his balls, Dag asked, “You ready?”

  “Fuck me, Dag,” Brenae said in response.

  He was upset that he couldn’t fuck her for as long as he used to when he was younger, but she swore it was a compliment that he couldn’t hold out longer than a few minutes when he finally got inside her.

  He got back up on his knees and held his wife’s hips and began to fuck her in earnest. She grunted every time he bottomed out inside her, and he could feel her fingers flicking rapidly over her clit as he pumped in and out.

  Within fifteen seconds, he knew he was going to come. Doing what he knew would make her explode, he swiped his middle finger through the copious juices coming from her slit and gently
pressed against her asshole. He didn’t penetrate her, merely caressed the sensitive nerves of her backside.

  She shouted in ecstasy, and once again every muscle in her body tensed. It felt as if she was going to squeeze his dick right off, and it was glorious. Grunting, Dag slammed inside her once more and held her to him as he exploded. Spurts of come pulsed out of his dick and coated her inner channel. Even though he knew he couldn’t get her pregnant, as he’d gotten a vasectomy years ago, Dag couldn’t help but picture his little swimmers frantically trying to find an egg to impregnate.

  Her muscles twitched around his cock, prolonging his pleasure and making Dag thank his lucky stars once more for his beautiful and loving wife.

  He held himself as deep inside her as he could for several moments, loving how their combined juices almost felt scalding around his sensitive cock. Knowing she had to be uncomfortable with her ass up in the air and her weight on her shoulder, Dag pulled out. They both groaned at the feeling of him leaving her, and he immediately fell onto his side and pulled Brenae into his arms.

  Many men didn’t like to cuddle, but Dag wasn’t one of them. He fucking loved holding Brenae in his arms. Almost as much as he liked making love with her. She was the other half of his soul, and nothing made his mind settle as much as holding her in his arms. He loved the way she snuggled into him. Loved the way she sighed in contentment. Loved how one of her legs would curl around his calf. And he especially loved when she let him scoot down and use her tits as a pillow. She’d hold him close and he’d let her heart lull him to sleep.