I can feel the energy Sebastian is exerting to hold it together. This dynamic man, who I’ve seen handle crowds of thousands with ease, is frozen.
Over the last few days, I’ve come to admire the Mancinis. I think they’re sincere and are offering Sebastian the chanceat something beautiful. The chance at something he deeply deserves. And I hope to hell he’s able to accept it.
But I know him. He needs time to process what he’s lost before he can process what he could gain.
“This is all a lot to take in… son,” Mancini says.
He starts at the wordson.
“Sebastian?” I say, a quiet query.
He turns to me as if I’m his lifeline, his eyes in turmoil.
“I’m a little tired,” I lie. “I’m going to bed now. Do you want to come with me?” I want to give him an out, a reprieve, if he needs one.
Perhaps I’m overstepping and I don’t belong in this. I don’t actually have a role in his life besides that of former assistant, current friend, and temporary… I falter, not sure how to define us. Plus, I’ve spent the last month actively trying to carve out space and a life separate from this man.
But none of that matters, not now. Not when there’s stark pain in his eyes. Not when I’m here and I can help in some small way. In a world of agendas and counter-agendas, I can be the one person who is on his side. At least until our time is at an end.
And just as I suspected, he grasps the proffered branch as if it were his only purchase in a storm. “I’ll join you.” He turns back to the couple. “Can we—can we talk more in the morning?”
“Of course, dear,” Maricella says, subdued. “Sleep on it.”
We say our awkward goodbyes and walk silently back to our room, our hands clasped tightly.
When we make it inside, I turn to him to ask if he’s ready to talk, but instead, he kisses me.
Though kiss is an inadequate word. He grasps my face with one hand. His other wanders over my body with fierce possession.
And I think I understand. He doesn’t want to talk. Not yet. What he needs right now isus.Like this.
I moan, holding him with equal fervor.
The last two nights, our coming together was about learning each other’s bodies.
But tonight, we’re lost in an inferno. We strip off each other’s clothes.
He doesn’t wait to take the short steps to the bed. He lifts me, pushing up my skirt, and holds me against the wall, my legs around him. We rock into each other wildly.
When I don’t think I can take much more without exploding, he swears and rips the panties from my body.
“If I weren’t so turned on right now, I’d cut you for destroying my favorite underwear,” I say with a gasp. “They were expensive.”
“I’ll buy you all the La Perla you want, baby. Fuck, you’re so ready for me,” he grits out as his fingers sink into my wet heat.
“You’re forgiven,” I cry. “Just keep doing that. But with your dick.”
He barks out a laugh and fumbles with the zipper on his pants, then pushes down the final barriers of clothes between us.
The V-neck of my deep blue dress also gets sacrificed as he stretches it out to gain access to my lace-covered breasts. I can’t complain too much, though, since he paid for the clothes he’s currently destroying. Plus, I’m out of my mind with desire for him as he replaces his hand with his mouth and sucks on my nipple, using his teeth as well. I moan embarrassingly loud.
Every one of my senses is activated.
“I need you in me,” I beg.
“Fuck,” he swears. Then takes a deep breath. His body is trembling at the effort of holding back. “A condom,” he mutters.
“I’m on the pill and clean,” I say. “And I coordinate your tests, so I know you’re clean as well. Or you were last month. If it’s true that there hasn’t been anyone else—”
