“No, no, baby, it’s not you,” I murmur quickly, brushing my fingers along his cheek and scattering soft kisses across his face. “I’m just… I’ve never done this before. Not like this. I mean, I know how it works, obviously, but in real life? This is new. And honestly… kind of embarrassing. I don’t want to mess this up. Not with you.”
His eyes light up with tender amusement, and a slow, smug grin spreads across his face. “Well, lucky for you, I’ve had a bit of practice,” he says, clearly enjoying this far too much.
“Okay, let’s not dwell on that, please,” I reply, trying not to sound jealous, but failing.
His smirk widens. “Oh my god, are you jealous? That’s adorable.”
“I’m not jealous,” I snap, way too fast. Of course, I’m jealous. The thought of anyone else touching him drives me completely insane. I know it’s irrational, but I can’t help it.
“Well, don’t be,” he says, though his voice is anything but reassuring. There’s a teasing glint in his eyes, but when he leans in again, it’s gone, replaced by something darker, deeper. “There’s nothing to worry about. I only want you.”
That’s all it takes. My restraint dissolves in an instant.
I roll my hips into his, slow and deliberate, and he arches to meet me like he’s been waiting for it all night. We move together without thinking, heat and want rising fast between us, like fire catching fire.
“I guess I’ll have to take the lead then,” he murmurs, all sultry confidence, as he reaches for the button of my jeans.
I flush. “I, um… I kind of know the mechanics. I’ve watched a few videos,” I admit, cringing a little.
Seb gasps in mock horror. I catch his hand, press a kiss to his palm, and meet his eyes with all the honesty I have. “I might feel completely clueless right now, but there’s one thing I’m certain of: I trust you, Seb. You can guide me. I just want this to be good for both of us. So if I mess up, or something doesn’t feel right, promise me you’ll say something, okay?”
“Only if you promise to do the same,” he whispers back.
“Deal.”
He flashes that wicked little grin, the one that shows off his dimple, and it’s game over for me. I pin his wrists above his head with one hand and lean in, flicking my tongue into that infuriatingly perfect dent in his cheek.
“Remi! What are you doing?” he squeals, squirming. “Why does everyone want to lick my face? What is the obsession with my dimple?”
“Because it’s perfect,” I say simply. “I’ve wanted to do this since the day I met you and saw that tiny temptress pop out of your cheek.”
Then I lick him again, and he laughs so hard he nearly falls off the bed.
I trail kisses down his neck, savouring every tiny sound that escapes him, those soft gasps, the way his breath hitches. But then something he said sinks in.
“Wait, back up. Who else tried to lick your face?”
He waves a hand dismissively, like brushing away a mosquito. “No one important. Just some girl my parents tried to set me up with.”
“What?! Theywhat?” I choke, pulling back a little. “Who the hell is she?”
Seb cuts off my outrage with a kiss, his lips warm and sure against mine. “It doesn’t matter,” he murmurs, brushing his nose against mine. “She’s irrelevant. It’s just you and me now, Remi. That’s all I care about.”
And then his hands slide under my shirt, gliding up over my skin as he pushes the fabric higher. I lift my arms, letting him peel it off, and my Henley lands in a soft heap on the floor.
He looks up at me, eyes wide and shining, like he’s seeing something precious. His fingers trace a reverent path down my chest and abs, lingering with a kind of awe. Then they move lower, stopping at the waistband of my jeans.
He undoes the last button slowly, deliberately, and then pauses, biting his lip as he glances up at me.
He’s asking. Not with words, but with everything in his body.
I don’t need to think. I nod, then lean down and capture that lip in my mouth, sucking it gently to let him know, yes. I’m ready. I want this. I wanthim.
Seb gets the hint immediately and, without a word, slides my jeans down to my thighs. I arch up to help, squirming like an eel until I finally kick them off. They land beside my shirt, forgotten on the floor.
It feels a bit unfair that I’m the only one left in just my underwear, but then Seb presses his hips into mine with this blissed-out look that makes my heart skip. He rolls his hips in a slow, devastating motion, and the friction nearly undoes me on the spot.
I groan and reach for his shirt, fumbling with the buttons as I push it off his shoulders. Inch by inch, inked skin is revealed, tattoos blooming across his body like wildflowers in Eden: beautiful, tempting, just a little dangerous.
