Chapter 28 #2
Without thinking, I catch his wrist to stop his retreat and guide his hand back to my throat, pressing his palm firmly against my hammering pulse.
"I trust you," I tell him, the words coming from somewhere deep inside me, somewhere true and unguarded. My gaze holds his, steady and sure despite the vulnerability of my position. "I trust you, Sebastian."
He adjusts his grip slightly, his thumb and fingers finding the sides of my neck rather than the front.
"If it's too much, tap my arm twice," he rasps. "Understand?"
I nod, then realize he needs verbal confirmation. "Yes," I whisper. "I understand."
My words, my consent, unleashes something primal in him.
His thrusts become harder, deeper, each one driving me closer to an edge I've never experienced before.
The combination of his hand on my throat and his cock filling me so completely creates a cocktail of sensations that makes my mind go blank with pleasure.
Applying the slightest pressure to the sides of my neck, he restricts the blood flow just enough to create a light-headed sensation that amplifies every other feeling.
The pressure comes and goes in waves, perfectly timed with his thrusts and my breathing.
It's nothing like I imagined. Not scary or uncomfortable, but a building intensity that makes every nerve ending more sensitive, every touch more electric.
"Sebastian," I gasp, his name a broken sound as pleasure builds inside me, different from anything I've ever experienced. My vision narrows to just his face above mine, to those dark eyes watching me with such careful attention.
"That's it," he encourages. "Let go for me, Mia. Let me see you fall apart."
The pressure builds to impossible levels, my body coiling tighter and tighter until I'm balanced on a knife's edge of sensation.
When my orgasm finally crashes over me, it's with an intensity that makes the earlier one seem like a gentle wave in comparison.
My vision goes white, my body arching off the bed as pleasure tears through me in devastating waves.
Sebastian works me through it, his movements never faltering even as I clench around him like a vice. Only when the last tremor fades does he allow his own control to snap, his rhythm becoming erratic as he chases his own release.
"Mia," he groans as he buries himself deep and comes with a force that makes his whole body shudder.
We collapse together, both breathing hard and trembling from the intensity of what just passed between us. His hand releases my throat to stroke my hair with surprising tenderness, while the other traces lazy patterns on my hip.
"Holy fucking shit," I breathe when I finally find my voice.
He lifts his head to look at me, a satisfied smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Worth the wait?"
I try to answer but can only manage a soft "Mmm" of contentment, my body still humming with residual pleasure, my mind blissfully empty of everything but the sensation of him.
His chuckle vibrates through both our bodies as he carefully withdraws from me, making me whimper at the loss. He presses a gentle kiss to my forehead, then my eyelids, then each cheek, before finally claiming my lips in a kiss so tender it makes my heart ache.
"Stay right here," he murmurs, easing himself off the bed.
I try to protest as his warmth leaves me, but my limbs refuse to cooperate, heavy and useless in the aftermath of the most intense orgasm of my life.
I hear water running in what must be the adjoining bathroom, and then he's back, gathering me into his arms with surprising gentleness for a man of his size and strength.
He carries me into a sleek, modern bathroom—all glass and chrome and clean lines, like the rest of his apartment—and sets me on my feet in a shower big enough for four people. My legs wobble, but his arm around my waist keeps me steady as warm water cascades over us from multiple showerheads.
His touch is gentle as he moves over my body, washing me with reverent care.
There's nothing sexual in the touch now, just tenderness that makes my throat tight with unexpected emotion.
He massages shampoo into my hair, his strong fingers working against my scalp in a way that has me practically purring with contentment.
"You were incredible," he murmurs, his lips brushing my temple as he rinses the suds from my hair. "So brave, so beautiful. Perfect."
The praise washes over me, warming me from the inside out. I lean into him, letting him support my weight as exhaustion begins to set in.
When we're both clean, he wraps me in a towel big enough to be a blanket, drying me with the same careful attention he's shown all night. My eyes grow heavy, the events of the day catching up to me all at once.
When he carries me back to bed and slides in beside me, he gathers me against his chest. One arm curls protectively around my waist while the other cradles my head. I feel his lips press against my damp hair, hear him murmur something too soft to catch as sleep begins to claim me.
As I drift off, wrapped in his warmth, a realization hits me with startling clarity.
I'm falling for Sebastian Walker, hard and fast and completely.
The thought should terrify me, should send me running for the hills.
Instead, as consciousness slips away, I curl closer into his embrace, surrendering to this new, unexpected vulnerability with the same trust I'd given him in our most intimate moments.
And that, more than anything that happened tonight, is what scares me most of all.