My body shudders apart. A cry tears from my throat, raw and unbridled. It’s messy, imperfect, and utterly mine.
He sheds his clothes like he can’t stand the distance anymore, like fabric is the last thing keeping us apart.
And then it’s all him.
Bare. Solid.Real.
Heat and muscle and need, pressed to every inch of me.
Before the pleasure can really fade, Sebastian is over me again, settling between my thighs, holding my face in both hands.
“Look at me,” he says. “Eyes open.”
I meet his gaze. His expression is raw, almost feral with restraint.
"Okay?" he asks.
"Okay," I whisper. "I’m okay."
He guides himself to me, slow and careful. "I’ll go slow. If it hurts—"
"It won’t."
He holds still for a heartbeat, watching me. Then pushes forward, inch by inch.
My breath catches. Not from pain, but fullness. A kind of completeness that cracks something open inside me.
He stops once he’s fully inside. Gives me a moment.
Then he moves.
And everything else disappears.
There’s only him. The rhythm of our bodies. The heat of his skin on mine. The way he watches me like I’m the only thing he’s ever wanted.
"You’re gonna break me," I whisper.
"Never," he says. "Never."
His pace quickens. The bedframe creaks beneath us.
The world narrows to this. To us. To the heat and rhythm, the pull and surrender. The room fills with our sounds. His name onmy lips, my breath catching between kisses, the ragged edge of something building fast.
“Willa,” he groans, voice frayed. “Willa.”
“Sebastian—”
I fall again. Hard. The release rips through me like a wave breaking wide open, blinding and breathless.
His rhythm stutters. A sharp gasp against my neck. Then he drives into me once, twice—harder now, deeper—until everything in him coils tight.
He groans my name like it’s being torn from his chest.
I hold him close as he shudders through it, my fingers pressed to his back, feeling every muscle go rigid beneath my palms… and then release all at once, like a dam breaking.
We collapse into each other afterward, tangled in heat and linen, breath mingling. The sheets are twisted around our legs. The air is thick with the scent of us. Sweat, skin, something wild and aching and spent.
Neither of us speaks.
