His fingers mapped slow, lazy patterns along my back; up and down, while we watched each other in the quiet. There was something fragile about this—something new and tender. Neither of us rushed to break it.
I brushed a strand of hair from his forehead. “What are you thinking about?”
He moved closer, pressing a kiss to the tip of my nose. “That it’s been a while since I’ve felt this happy.”
“Yeah? Since when?”
His eyes softened, open in a way I wasn’t used to seeing. “Since the wedding, probably.”
Something tight pulled in my chest. Aching. I leaned in and kissed him, and he met me without hesitation, like he’d beenwaiting for it. Our mouths brushed, and I felt it—that dangerous swell of something I’d been trying to keep buried.
This was too much. Too good. Too close to the thing I’d lost once and wasn’t sure I’d survive losing again.
I closed my eyes. “My head’s a mess right now.”
Sebastian slid an arm beneath me and pulled me in, holding me close, his hand smoothing through my hair. “I’m not going to hurt you again,” he said quietly. “I promise.”
I didn’t answer.
I wasn’t sure how.
I could lie and say I believed him—but did I?
“Do you want to sleep?” I asked instead.
He shook his head. “I don’t think I can.” Sebastian brushed his cheek against mine, kissed it, then dipped to my neck. “You’re in my bed, darling—I can’t.” His kisses turned urgent, demanding—his tongue sweeping over my skin, his mouth hot and open. “I want you all night. Fuck until thinking isn’t even an option.”
My cock twitched at his words. “Fuck,” I whispered.
“I’ll be right back,” he said, kissing my lips before moving off the bed and into the bathroom.
I buried my face in the pillow, scrunching it tight as emotion swelled in my chest.
Don’t get ahead of yourself.
This can all disappear in a second.
It’s just sex. Not a fucking marriage proposal.
I forced my breathing to steady, listening to the water run, then his footsteps returned. Warmth pressed to my back as his mouth found my neck and a damp cloth brushed over my chest. I sighed, soaking up the attention.
Sebastian moved the cloth slowly—over my stomach, my cock, then along my back, between my cheeks—kissing my neck, nuzzling into my hair the entire time.
As he moved lower, his kisses followed—trailing down my spine, along my ribs, over the small of my back.
My breath hitched when he set the cloth aside, spread me gently, and kissed his way down my crease.
“Fuck,” I breathed, unsteady.
His tongue brushed over my hole, and I flinched.
“Does that hurt?” he murmured, not pulling away, his voice already thick again.
“No. Just feels weird—sensitive. Don’t stop.”
“I’ll keep it soft.” His tongue returned, slower, gentler this time. His nails scraped lightly over my ribs, his face buried between my cheeks, his beard rough in the best way. “Hold yourself open.”
I did immediately, reaching back to give him more room, my face burning. Sebastian groaned, his free hand cupping my balls before sliding forward to stroke my cock as it began to swell again.
