The tears slow as I finally feel like I can take a deep breath. After what feels like an eternity, I go through the motions of a quick shower. There seems to be an endless supply of hot water in this room, and I wonder if that's just the beginning of the never ending comforts I’ll find here. There’s a panel on the wall just outside the shower stall, and I assume that controls the sauna Rosetta was referring to before. I make a mental note to definitely take advantage of that as soon as possible. Perhaps at a time when I don’t feel like I might collapse from exhaustion.
Over an hour has passed when I finally shut off the water, ending my emotional breakdown. I rush through the process of raking product through my curls, wrapping them in my favorite silk scarf so my hard work isn’t ruined by the coma-worthy nap I’m about to fall into. When I was young, there was no end to the number of times I heard things like “Oh I would pay so much money to have beautiful curls like yours!” Yeah but do you have any idea what it takes to care for hair like this, Karen? Doubtful. I hated my hair then. It was way more work than I wanted to putinto my appearance. But over the years I’ve learned how to take care of it so efficiently it’s almost second nature.
Pulling another plush towel from the warming rack, I wrap it tightly around myself and walk back into the bedroom. I'm grateful the heavy drapes are barely open, only casting a small amount of light across the space. The four-poster bed piled high with cream linens looks like the most inviting dream I’ve ever seen. I almost feel like running towards it, but you couldn’t pay me enough to run anywhere. I make it to the edge of the bed before a deep voice shatters the silence around me.
seventeen
“Areyou not pleased to be here?” he says, and I swear I jump three feet in the air.
“Gaaahhhh!! Jesus fucking Christ, Sebastard!!! What the fuck are you doing creeping around in the dark?! I fucking HATE being scared like that!” My hand flies to my racing heart as he sits, unmoving, in a chair in the corner.
His face is obscured in shadows, but the tension is palpable in his tone. The idea of him sitting here waiting for me to get out of the shower should be creepy as hell, and it is. But I can’t help the way my skin heats knowing he was lingering here for me.
“Your fear is your problem. Why are you crying? I brought you here, to this beautiful place, and yet you’re still not happy.” He seems almost…angry.
“I’m not crying. Not anymore. And I’m not unhappy, Seb. I was just feeling a little overwhelmed. A girl is allowed to have feelings, ya know.” I clutch the towel tighter around myself, feeling exposed.
Even though I can’t see his eyes, I can feel them burning into me. The intensity crawls across my skin, racing throughmy veins like pure adrenaline. My core clenches, sweat beading down my spine. We’re in a standoff, neither of us willing to break this tension. I know he can see me, so this hardly seems fair.
“What? What do you want? I told you the truth. I’m allowed to fucking cry, Sebastian. I understand that you have no fucking emotions, but the rest of us normal people actually feel things. Crazy, right?!” I’m practically screaming at him, letting my anger get the better of me.
Before I know what's happening, he’s stalking across the room, gripping my throat as he backs me into the bedpost. The bite of wood against my spine cranks my anger up another notch. My towel falls open in the front, barely covering my body. His fingers flex around the column of my throat, but they don’t squeeze. This isn’t an assault, it’s a threat. I’m dancing on the edge of his patience, as always. But part of me loves to watch it unravel. Loves to see the control he holds so tightly slip away, thread by thread, until I’ve completely unwound him.
“You think I have no emotion, Bambina? You caused me pain when you pulled away from me in the car. You knew that. I don’t care what your reasoning was. You can tell me your pretty lies until your face is blue, but I know you’ve wanted me just as badly as I’ve wanted you. You may be confused about what that means, but I am not. Between that pain and the way you look, I’m so fucking obsessed, I can’t think about anything else. Can’t focus on any of the work I need to be doing. Because my mind is so full of you, Vanessa.” His voice is low and even, millimeters away from my ear, his accent growing increasingly thick with each passing moment in his homeland.
The words are like a single match on kindling in a drought-stressed forest. My entire body ignites, flames consuming me from the inside out. I grip the hair at the nape of his neck, dragging his lips to mine in a kiss just as dominating as the one on the plane. For a moment, he doesn’t release my throat,gripping tighter for only a heartbeat before both hands slide down my body, stripping me bare and hoisting me up into his arms effortlessly. He never makes me feel like my body is a burden the way others have in the past. I’m not a small woman, I never have been. I have fat on my body, the way we all do, but I don’t feel ashamed of it. Sebastian worships my body with such dominance that I’ve never questioned his attraction to me. I don’t break our kiss, I’m not sure I could if I wanted to. I want to crawl inside his body and never leave. Clawing at his dress shirt, my fingers slide easily across the silky material.
“You’re too dressed,” I breathe, panting against his mouth.
“Because I didn’t come here for this,” he replies, and I give him a seductive grin.
“Didn’t you? Why else would you be waiting here for me at the one time I would most likely be completely naked? Just trying to even the score, huh?” I laugh softly, my laughter dissolving into a moan when his mouth descends down the column of my neck.
His touch is possessive, territorial in a way I’ve never felt before. I’ve been touched by lesser men, but nothing has ever felt as dominating as Sebastian’s touch. He pulls my body even tighter against his, the solid ridge of his cock grinding against my pelvic bone. A whimper escapes through my lips, and he swallows it down.
“So fucking ruinous,” he murmurs against my lips, and my entire body aches for him. He stalks forward, tossing me onto the bed so he is towering over me. Any other time I might feel self-conscious, like I need to cover myself up under this intense scrutiny, but not now. Not here. I want him to take in every single inch of me, because this is all I have to give. If he doesn’t like it, he can leave the same way he came in. But the look in his eyes tells me I couldn’t pry him away if I tried.
His fingers work the buttons on his shirt so quickly, I’m not sure I've seen him so manic. Discarding it behind him, he makes even quicker work of unbuckling his belt and slipping it out of the loops. The sound is almost inappropriate in the relative quiet of the room, the only other noise coming from our panting breaths. I’ve never had the chance to study the ink on his chest so closely before, so I take my time as he pushes his black slacks and boxer briefs to the floor.
“Touch yourself. Show me what makes you feel good.” His cock springs free, heavy and solid in his hand. Giving himself a few quick tugs, he raises an eyebrow, waiting for me to follow his instructions.
It wasn’t an ask, it was a command. He’s demanding my submission, and for once in my life, I give it willingly. Reaching down with a shaky hand, I swirl two fingers lightly across my swollen clit, a moan clawing its way up my throat. My eyes roam over his body, mouth watering at the sight of the bead of precum already dripping from the tip of his cock.
“Are you just gonna stand there watching?” I pant, the pleasure building in my core.
“I could,” he places one knee on the outside of my thigh, his eyes locked on my pussy.
“Touch me,” I tell him, reaching for him. The fucker has the audacity to push my hand away.
“No,” he guides my hand back to my clit, working my fingers in time with my racing heart. “Not until you’re begging me to.”
“I’m already fucking begging you, Seb.” I tell him, beyond frustrated.
He teases me, dragging the head of his cock against my clit until I’m a writhing mess beneath him. My mind is hazy, intoxicated with lust and irritation. I want him to just give in, to lose himself in me the way I’m so fucking lost in him. But he wants me to beg. I beg for no man.
“You know what to say, Vanessa. How to make your suffering end. Give me what I want, and I will give you what you want.” He smirks, and I want to slap his perfect face.
“Get off of me!” I shove at his shoulder, hoping like hell he doesn’t listen to me.
