“Right,” He agrees.
“Sebastian,” I clear my throat, “You need to get out.”
“Why?” He frowns.
“So, I can get dressed?” It wasn’t supposed to come out like a question.
“You’re killing me, Red,” he says it so quietly I’m not sure I hear him correctly.
“I didn’t do anything,” My lip snags between my teeth.
“Just once.” He whispers, “Just let me see once.”
“See what?” I step further into the room, goosebumps chasing over my skin. I’m not entirely convinced they’re there because of the cooling water on my body and it has more to do with the gravelly tone his plea was spoken in.
“You,” His eyes flick up to meet mine, “Let me see you.”
“I’m right here.”
He shakes his head, “All of you, Red.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
Internally, I commend myself for speaking and thinking rationally, even if the way he is looking at me right now is setting every nerve on fire. He is gasoline and I am the flame.
“Please,” His eyes squeeze closed, “Just once.”
“You want me to take the towel off?” I swallow.
“Yes.”
I shake my head, “It’s not a good idea.”
“I’m not known for my good ideas, Red,” He says seriously.
“You don’t want to see me, Sebastian,” I tell him.
“You have no idea what I want.” His hands fist against the sheets.
My fingers go to the knot where the edge is tucked in between my breasts and his eyes seem to home in on the move. Ready. Waiting. He’s on the verge of desperation, like a man begging for a drop of water. I see it written all over his face.
My stomach knots and heart thuds inside my chest and I pull the edge of the towel free, keeping it tight to my body so it doesn’t fall off.
I’ve never been self-conscious, but I am right now. I shouldn’t do this.
Why am I doing this?
I let go of the towel.
It drops like a weight at my feet, leaving me completely bare for him, my hair dripping cold droplets of water over my skin.
He goes deathly still on the bed, the only part of him that moves are his eyes as they rake over me, from the tips of my toes, like a caress as they travel up my legs, not a single inch left unseen. He captures his bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes stop at the apex of my thighs, and I can feel myself clench. He’s not even close to me, not touching me and yet I feelhim. Lust and desire coil tight in my core, my muscles clenching. His hands fist against the sheets as if it’s the only thing keeping him in place.
“Stunning,” He breathes, eyes moving again, over my stomach, up to my breasts which heave with every labored breath I take. He looks at it all, the freckles on my chest and shoulders, the small tattoo I have on my ribcage, a delicate little dove I got some time after I moved out of my mother’s house. It was a symbol of freedom, of finally being away from her control, manipulation and abuse.
He takes me in entirely and my skin burns under his gaze. I can feel how wet I am, how much I ache but he hasn’t made a move for me.
I shouldn’t have done this.
