There’s a loud intake of breath on the other end of the line.
And then silence.
My fingers still. “Sebastian?” I ask, breathless and uncertain. I start to remove my fingers. “Are you?—?”
“Say it again,” he breathes into the phone.
“Say what?—?”
“Say my fucking name,” he growls. His breathing ratchets up, and I can hear him, hear him fucking his own hand.
My fingers start to move again.
“Sebastian,” I whisper into the phone.
“Again,” he demands. “Louder.”
“Sebastian!” I cry out.
“That’s it,” he grunts. “Say my name again, dirty girl. I want to hear you say my name with those fingers buried in your pussy. I want you to scream it when you come.”
“I’m close,” I whimper, hips bowing off the bed, fucking myself hard.
“Fuck,” he swears, grunting into the phone.
“Sebastian, I… I?—”
I explode, screaming his name as I come.
On the other end of the line, I hear him swear, low and guttural, and then groan, and I know he’s following me, know he’s coming with me, sharing this moment with me.
There’s a long silence after as we catch our breath, both gasping into the phone. I listen to him, imagining him. Cold, emotionless Sebastian, covered in his own release, breathless and spent. I imagine him flushed, his hair messy, lips parted.
And I made that happen. I broke through that mask and reduced him to this. There’s power in this moment, right here. And it’s all mine.
Finally, he speaks. “Sydney?” he asks softly.
I lift the phone from my ear, staring at it. I wish we’d done this through video. I wish I could see him, see the mess I’ve made of him.
“Syd, I?—”
Whatever he’s going to say, I don’t wait to hear it.
I end the call.
Right now, in this moment, I have all the power. And I want to keep it that way.
22
ALEC
Sebastian is late.
And Sebastian is never late.
I glance at the wall clock again, frowning as the seconds tick by into minutes. On the couch, Ashton shifts nervously, his leg bouncing up and down.
“Where the fuck is he?” he asks, looking around. “It’s not like him to?—”
