“Yeah.” My throat was dry. “Finally.”
His question and my answer carried more weight than the words themselves. And we both knew it.
I tipped my head toward the path because my voice was stuck somewhere in my throat. But there was no need for words; he understood and fell into step beside me.
We crossed the garden, the path winding between the cabins, the trees and lights swaying overhead in the earlyNovember night. The silence wasn’t awkward, although it thrummed, as every step drew us closer.
The cottage came into view, light casting a warm circle across the entrance. I fumbled with the key, my hands slightly shaking, but before I could slide it into the lock, his hand closed over mine. Steadying. Certain.
“Ruby.”
Just my name. But I felt it all the way down my body.It’s me,he said with that one word.Don’t stress when it’s me.
The door clicked shut behind us, the quiet swallowing everything else.
Somewhere deep inside, I was still scared that any second now, I’d say something too sharp, want too much, be too loud or messy or real—and that would be it.
Sebastian closed the small space between us, one hand braced at my hip as the other slid up, fingers tracing my jaw before cupping the side of my face. God, why did he always look at me like that? Like I wasn’t on borrowed time. Like I couldn’t ruin everything just by being me.
“I didn’t know it could feel like this,” I whispered.
“Me neither,” he rasped. “Does it still feel like a problem? Like it ruins things? Because you’ve been looking at me like I’m the problem and the answer at the same time.” He leaned in, his forehead nearly touching mine.
“That’s because you are.” Another breath hung between us. “And I love you.”
His mouth curved into a small smile, but his eyes searched mine. “Say it again. Just to make sure I heard right.”
“I love you.” The words came easier this time, sweeter on my tongue, like they’d been waiting years to be spoken. “I love you, Sebastian.”
Always Sebastian. Never just Seb. Even when I’d toyed with the nickname, I’d missed his full name. Because that was what he’d always been to me—all of him, in full. My Sebastian, in all his Sebastianness.
I wanted to tell him that, but my voice didn’t cooperate.
“Good,” he rasped. “Because I love you, Ruby Locke. So much, and for so long.”
And then there was no space left between us.
His mouth crashed onto mine, hot and firm, backing me into the door. I clutched his shoulders, pulling him closer, desperate to feel all of him, not just the parts the world got to see.
The jacket he’d given me slid off my shoulders and pooled on the floor, forgotten. He pushed further against me, every hard line of him pressed to my body, making me gasp.
He kissed me like he was making up for every second we’d lost. I yanked at his tie, ripping it loose and off him, popping buttons as I shoved his shirt open. My palms flattened over hot skin, muscles carved under my touch.
“I need you,” I whispered against his mouth—and this time, not only because I’d been starving for him, but because letting go was impossible, and I stopped pretending otherwise.
“You have me, always,” he growled, scooping me up like I weighed nothing.
By the time we reached the bedroom, my hair was tumbling loose from its pins. Sebastian sat on the edge of the bed with me straddling him, my dress shoved up high on my thighs, my chest heaving.
“Ruby,” he groaned, his grip on my hips bruising, grinding me down against the hardness straining his pants. The friction made me moan into another kiss, my nails biting into his shoulders.
I reached for his belt and pants, opening them without even looking. I wrapped my palm around the thick and heavy hardness. I stroked, and he made a guttural sound against my neck.
His hands slid up until they found the knot at my nape. His fingers fumbled, tugging at the tie of my halter.
I needed to be bare, to be his, to feel him on every inch of me. I was throbbing for his touch. It hadn’t been that long since the last time he touched me, but it felt like a lifetime.
I shifted, turning on his lap so my back pressed into his chest, my head falling forward. “Do it like this.”
