I waved that off. "Just go back to pretending I'm a teenager and you're a pervert. It's fine. I've got this."
I glanced over my shoulders, blew out a breath, and threw my first back handspring in years. My form was sloppy and the landing could only be described asdrunk girl in uncomfortable heels, and I laughed as though I did something truly miraculous. I kind of felt miraculous too. Like I was inside a miracle right now.
"I think I can probably land a roundoff back handspring too. Just give me a second to—"
"We need to go back to the bungalow," Sebastian said, jumping out of his chair, haphazardly draping the sarong over my shoulders, and marching me up the beach.
"Why? What's wrong?" I asked, giggling as I struggled to match his pace.
He leaned into my hip, his shaft hard and hot through his shorts. "I have something I need you to handle."
"And I'm guessing you'd like me to be aggressive with it. B-E aggressive," I said in my chirpiest cheerleader cadence.
"Oh my god," he groaned. "Not another word until we're inside, you perky little demon."
"Then you don't want any go-fight-win?" I asked, clapping out the words.
"Oh my god. Sara. If you don't shut up right now, I—" He stopped, threw me over his shoulder, and stomped into the bungalow. "You're trying to kill me. I know it."
"I'm not," I cried.
He brought his lips to my thigh, pressed a small bite into my skin. "When I put you down, you take this suit off immediately. Understand?"
I tried to push my hair out of my eyes, but hanging upside down made that difficult. "Maybe."
He delivered a light slap between my legs before lowering me to the living room rug. "You'll take it off."
I gathered up my hair as best I could while Sebastian sat on the sofa, his legs wide and a hand curled loose over his crotch. "I think I can still do a few of the jumps. Let me try."
"Noooo. Get over here."
Ignoring him, I backed up to stand in the open space of the living room. I mimed the motions of a toe-touch jump before deciding I could pull this off. I counted out the beats as I threw my arms into a T, popped off the floor, came back down. "I can't believe I can still do that! Thank you, yoga. Did you see that?"
"Get over here." He crooked a finger and arched a brow, and my center throbbed. That was all it took. "And lose the suit unless you'd like me to rip it off you."
"That seems unnecessary," I said, running a finger along the shoulder strap.
"Then don't make it my only option."
I wiggled out of the high-waisted two piece and stood between his knees. He drew a hand up my leg, pushed my thighs apart. He leaned forward, brought his mouth to my mound. Licked over my folds, circled my clit. It was the kind of attention that registered as exactly what I needed, but not nearly enough of it. Still, I wobbled under his teasing, had to steady myself with a hand on his shoulder. The ache inside me was unlike any other. It curled and squeezed, and the tension moved out from my center like spilled ink. I felt that need in my belly, my thighs, my ass. It was everywhere, clenching and pulsing, and I didn't think I'd survive if I didn't feel him inside me.
He glanced at me, his big hands digging into the soft of my legs. "Take your hair down."
"No, it's crazy from being in the water earlier."
"I love it crazy." Despite it being a tangled mess, I shook out my hair and tossed the scrunchie aside. He leaned back against the cushions, patted his upper thigh. "Right here. Right now."
Since I didn't have to be asked twice, I climbed into his lap, my knees on either side of him and my breasts in his face. I didn't drop down, didn't connect with the thick shaft trapped under his shorts. Not yet. "Like this?"
He nodded, his forehead between my breasts and his hands on my waist. "Exactly like this."
"Are you thinking about the teenage cheerleader version of me?" I laced my hands behind his head, sifted my fingers through his hair. "Or the private school version of me? Or is it a blend of both?"
He shifted his head, bared his teeth against my breast. "I'm thinking about the woman who yanked off her skirt, did a back flip in front of me, and filled my fantasy bank for the rest of eternity. That's who I'm thinking about. Now, give me those perfect little tits."
He bit a mark into the side of my breast before yanking my face down to his and kissing me hard enough to steal my breath. Whatever inhibitions I had left, that kiss shook them free. I was burning from it, from the absolute heat of him all around me. Though the thought had never once crossed my mind before, I knew this was what it felt like to be branded. To be claimed. To be such a fucking mess and still surrender myself to him for safe keeping because I knew he would do exactly that.
It was a good thing my body was too busy rocking against his erection and clenching around nothing right now because that thought was enough to make me want to run the hell away. Just get up and go—go anywhere, anywhere else, anywhere but here, where I could be stuck and trapped and powerless because that was what happened when someone else was in control.
