Sebastian
I hate watching her get dressed.
Not because she isn’t beautiful in the act, because she is, bending to scoop up the ruined blue silk, cheeks flushed, hair still wild from my hands, but because every piece of fabric she puts between us feels like a wall. A barrier I never asked for and won’t accept.
She winces when she tries to shimmy into the dress, the zipper half-broken from my impatience last night. I smirk at the sight. “I warned you it wouldn’t survive me.”
She shoots me a glare over her shoulder, but it’s weak, softened by the way her lips curve at the edges. “It was borrowed.”
“From who?”
“My sister.”
I rise from the bed, tugging on my trousers, leaving my chest bare because I like the way her eyes catch on me before she forces them away. “Then I’ll replace it.”
She laughs, shaking her head as she fights with the stubborn zipper. “You can’t just throw money at everything, Sebastian.”
“Yes, I can,” I say simply, stepping behind her, sliding the zipper up with one smooth tug. I let my hands linger at her waist, my mouth close to her ear. “And if it keeps you in my bed, I will.”
Her breath hitches, but she doesn’t argue.
She moves to the table, where her mask lies discarded, and smooths her hair with trembling fingers. The mask looks delicate, fragile. She doesn’t. Not anymore. I ruined fragility in her last night, and I’ll never give it back.
“I have to get back to my life,” she says finally, her voice quiet but steady. “I can’t just… disappear into your world. I have responsibilities. A lab. Research deadlines.”
I study her. The way her spine stiffens when she speaks about work, the way her hands move with certainty when she gestures, the spark in her eyes when she forgets to be afraid. This is the Caitlyn who captivated me as much as her trembling did.
“What’s your project?” I ask.
Her head snaps toward me, surprised. No one’s asked, clearly. Not the men she’s dated, not the family she mentioned in fragments. Her lips part, then close again.
“You really want to know?”
“Yes.”
She takes a deep breath. “It’s a hybridization study. Orchids. I’ve been working on creating strains that can survive harsher climates without losing their ability to bloom. If it works, it could change how we conserve endangered species.”
Her voice warms as she speaks, gaining rhythm, passion threading through every word. She forgets the ruined dress, forgets me standing half-naked across the room, and for a moment I get to see the fire inside her.
I move closer, drawn in. “So you’re saving beauty from extinction.”
Her cheeks flush. “It’s not that dramatic.”
“Yes, it is,” I counter. “Most people in this city spend their days scheming for more money, more power, more blood. And you? You’re creating life. Protecting it.”
She blinks at me, stunned, as if no one has ever put it in those terms before.
“Don’t look so surprised,” I murmur, reaching to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “I meant it last night. I see you. All of you. The scientist. The woman. The passion. And I won’t let you go back to a life where you pretend you’re alone.”
“I am alone,” she whispers.
“Not anymore.”
Her eyes shine, torn between disbelief and the dangerous hope I want to plant.
I tip her chin up, kissing her softly this time, coaxing rather than claiming. When I pull back, her lips are parted, her breath trembling.
“Come with me,” I say. “Don’t run back to your lab and pretend last night was an accident. Spend the weekend with me. Let me show you what it feels like to live, not just survive.”
She hesitates, logic flickering in her gaze. “Sebastian… my work—”
“Will still be there on Monday. And maybe you’ll see it differently then. Maybe you’ll see yourself differently. You deserve that, Caitlyn.”
I press my forehead to hers, my voice a low growl. “You gave yourself to me. Don’t insult us both by walking away now.”
Her lips tremble, and then she exhales, the resistance draining out of her. “Just the weekend,” she whispers.
My chest tightens with triumph. I kiss her again, harder this time, sliding my hands down her back to cup her ass. “That’s all I need. By the time it’s over, you’ll never want to leave.”
She shivers, and I know I’ve won.
As she gathers her things, I watch her with a satisfaction that borders on feral. She thinks she’s agreed to two days. But I know she’s agreed to forever.