I needed him bare, needed him skin on skin.
Sebastian lowered me onto the bed like I was fragile, then kissed me hard like I was indestructible. I drank in the feel and scent of his body, pulled him closer, wrapping my legs tight around him, greedy for the delicious feeling of his weight, his heat, the solid reminder that he was mine.
Every touch was both familiar and new—the slide of his hands between my thighs, the way his lips lingered at the hollow of my throat, before trailing down to brush the ink on my ribcage. He groaned when I whispered his name and dragged my nails down his back. Then his mouth found mine again, the kisses turning rougher, hungrier. I couldn’t get enough, didn’t want to.
When he pushed inside me, a moan tore out of my throat. I clung to him, lost in the rhythm of his body and the wild stutter of my heart. Each thrust was deep and sure, his forehead pressed to mine, his gaze burning through me, until nothing existed but us.
We shattered together, breathless and wrecked. I collapsed against him, slick with sweat, trembling with the aftershocks, laughter bubbling up through the tears I hadn’t realized I’d shed. Grains of sand clung to our skin, sprinkling into the sheets as we shifted, a reminder of where we’d just been. Sebastian held me close, steady as ever, my chaos wrapped in his calm.
And when the world quieted again, with his heartbeat steady under my ear, I knew I didn’t just love him. I trusted him with every unguarded piece of me.
The inn’s walls were whole again, but so was I—because of him. Sebastian was the pillar I leaned on, the only foundation I wanted, needed, and chose to trust with my heart.
Sebastian’s breath, his scent, his arms around me, the ocean outside—I had everything I needed. And I’d never let go.
