He hesitates for half a second, but I press an innocent kiss to his cheek. “Okay, okay, I’ll behave. Now get in the shower with me.”
Sebastian nods, a little bashfully. We undress in quiet, stolen glances, and I turn on the water, adjusting the temperature.
When he finally steps in, I do my best not to stare, but it’s hopeless.
His body is mesmerizing.
He’s small, graceful, lean but defined, with smooth skin that glows under the warm spray. Every line, every curve of him is so effortlessly beautiful that it makes my chest ache.
Despite my best intentions, I’m hard again. So is he.
We don’t need words, we both know exactly what we want.
This time, it’s Sebastian who takes control, and I’m more than happy to let him.
He kisses me with urgency, wraps his hand around both of us, and begins to move. The sight alone, his pale, slender length pressed against mine, darker and thicker, is enough to unhinge me. His rhythm is unrelenting, and the friction, the closeness, the heat… it’s overwhelming.
We come together, hard and fast, shaking and breathless beneath the spray.
I hold him close, peppering his face with soft kisses as we try to catch our breath, hearts pounding.
Gently, I turn him around and pull him back against my chest. I grab the shampoo and work it through his hair in slow, careful strokes. He leans into me with a blissed-out sigh, melting in my arms.
I rinse, then smooth in conditioner, my fingers tracing gentle lines down his scalp and neck. When I lather up his skin, I take my time, massaging every inch, mapping him with reverence. He surrenders completely to my touch, and I savour every second.
Once he’s rinsed off, I soap myself quickly, eager now to get him into bed.
I step out first, pull on a robe, and wrap him in a warm, fluffy towel.
He leans into me, spent, while I towel-dry his hair. And even now, especially now, I can’t stop marvelling at him. At his beauty, yes, but also at the way he lets me care for him.
As if he already knows: I never want to stop.
“Would you…” he hesitates, his voice barely above a whisper. I wait, patient. “Would you sleep with me tonight?”
I kiss his forehead, my heart swelling. “There’s nowhere else in the world I’d rather be.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
He beams, that soft, radiant smile that undoes me every time. Then he takes my hand and quietly leads me to his room. We both know I won’t be going back to mine, not tonight. Not to the room I once shared with Maddie.
His bed is smaller, but I don’t care. The thought of holding him all night, of feeling his warmth tucked against me, sounds like heaven.
We slide under the covers, limbs finding each other easily. I pull him close, and he lets out a soft sigh, resting his head on my chest.
“The suitcase…” he mumbles sleepily.
I chuckle, brushing my fingers through his damp curls.
“You’ll pack in the morning. Sleep now, baby.”
He barely nods, already melting into me, his body curling against mine, his breath slowing into something soft and steady.
But I can’t sleep.
I run my fingers through his hair, along his shoulders, across the soft lines of his face, still unable to believe he’s here. With me.Mine. At last.
