5. Lilian
Chapter 5
Lilian
My heart races, a dizzying mix of shock, longing, and anger.
Sebastian looms before me, dressed in a tailored black suit that accentuates his lean, muscular frame. Our eyes meet, and a familiar uninvited surge of electricity courses through my veins. He looks every bit as striking as this morning in the mirror.
A devilish smirk curls his lips. “Hey, princess.”
I shut the door.
I’m imagining this again, right?
“Lil.” His voice, rough and familiar, seeps under the door.
My traitorous hands are grasping the handle. “Go away.” You’re not real.
“Not until you look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want me here.” A challenge.
I laugh, the sound edged with hysteria. “And if I did, would it make a difference?”
Silence meets my question. Then, “Open the door.”
I turn the handle without a second thought, and there he is again.
Sebastian .
Here, when I least expect him, but need him most.
I blink hard. But he remains, leaning against the doorframe with a cocky tilt of his head. Not my imagination then. Fantastic. “What are you doing here?”
“You invited me, remember?”
“I didn’t.”
He pulls a dark brown envelope from his jacket and holds it up.
My wedding invitation.
He slides a finger under the flap and extracts a card. “To the asshole who broke my heart.” He lifts his gaze to mine, eyes glinting. “I couldn’t resist such a heartfelt invitation.”
Mortification washes over me, fragments of that drunken night flooding back. I scribbled that message, fueled by bitterness, regret, and way too much tequila. And maybe the hope that he would show up. But I never sent it… I thought I threw it away.
“I didn’t mean for you to see that,” I mumble.
“I never got a nicer one.” He steps into the room, his presence filling the space, and the familiar scent of his cologne assaults me. Intoxicating.
I back up toward the wall, and the door closes. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“I could say the same thing about you. Shouldn’t you be at your wedding dancing with your husband, Mrs. Campbell?”
I bristle at the name. “Don’t call me that.”
“Why not? It’s who you are now, isn’t it?”
“I didn’t marry him.”
“Is that so?” He moves closer, his presence both thrilling and unnerving. “And why is that, princess?”
The old nickname sparks a flood of memories. Happy, painful, and everything in between. I lift my chin, meeting his gaze head-on. “Because I realized I was making a mistake.”
“A mistake, huh?” He reaches for a lock of my hair, winding it in slow circles. “And what made you realize that?”
You.
All I could think about was him. I was ready to walk down the aisle. But I can’t give him that satisfaction. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Doesn’t it?” His fingers trail down my neck, along my collarbone, tracing the low neckline. “You’re standing here in a wedding dress. One you were supposed to wear for another man. I think it matters a great deal.”
I inhale sharply at his touch, my skin tingling beneath the fabric. “Why are you here?”
“You know why.” His gaze burns into mine, the intensity stealing my breath.
“I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.” His hand slides to the small of my back, pulling me closer and sending my pulse into overdrive.
“You need to leave.”
“Do I?” His lips nuzzle over the sensitive skin of my neck, and I bite back a moan. “Because it seems to me like this is exactly where I’m meant to be.”
“Sebastian, please.” I’m holding on to the last bit of hope, praying that my plea makes him stop because I’m close to doing something I shouldn’t
“Say it again.” He hums, a low sound in his throat. “Like you used to.”
“We can’t do this again. ”
“Can’t we?” One of his hands wraps around my neck. “Then tell me you don’t want this, that you don’t want me.”
I close my eyes against the surge of longing the simple touch evokes. Deep down, I’ve always known Jason could never compare to the man before me. The man who still holds my heart, even after all these years. But I can’t give him that power over me again.
“Look me in the eyes and lie to me again,” he says.
I open them. And I can’t do it. I can’t lie to him about this. Not when the truth is written in every trembling inch of my body, in the warmth blossoming low in my belly. “It’s just physical, nothing more.” Who am I kidding? This has always been more than physical between us. Too much history, too many emotions neither of us can shake.
Sebastian’s eyes flash with something dangerously close to anger… or pain? But it’s gone in an instant, replaced by his usual cocky smirk.
“You’re right, princess.” His tone drips with mockery. “This doesn’t change anything. We both know you’re only using me to scratch an itch before you go back to your perfect little life.”
“And you’re only here because your ego couldn’t stand letting me go.”
His fingers on my waist dig in possessively. “Maybe I am.”
My pulse thrums wildly at his proximity, the warmth of his body so close to mine. I press my palms against his chest, my mind telling me to push him back, but instead, they linger there, feeling the steady beat of his heart.
This is dangerous, being here with him like this. But I know if I tell him to leave now, I’ll regret it. I need this, need him, if only for tonight.
“Well?” he rasps. “Are you going to play pretend with me one last time or not? ”
One last time. I can give myself this, can’t I? To get rid of him and sate this bone-deep craving for the man I’ve never stopped wanting at last.
“I hate you,” I say.
His hand fists in my hair, tilting my head back. “The feeling is mutual, princess.” And then his mouth is on mine, hot and demanding.
I’m lost, surrendering to him, to the sweet oblivion of this dangerous desire that releases years of pent-up passion and longing.
His tongue sweeps in to tangle with my own as he walks me backward into the room. My fingers fist into his hair, pulling him closer still, needing every hard inch of him pressed against me.
He groans, the sound vibrating through me, and his large hands grip my hips, lifting me effortlessly onto the vanity. I wrap my legs around his waist, heels digging into the back of his thighs. Our bodies align in that exquisite way I’ve missed so much.
Sebastian’s hands roam greedily over the satin and lace of my dress, down my sides, grasping my thighs and rucking the skirt up. His calloused fingertips brush the sensitive skin there, and I shiver at the contact.
“I’ve missed this, missed you,” he growls against my lips, nipping and sucking until I’m breathless.
I don’t respond, unwilling to admit how much I’ve ached for his touch again. How many nights I’ve lain awake craving the heat of his body over mine. Instead, I pour all of those unspoken words into our kiss, kissing him deeply, hungrily, with a desperate need I know he understands all too well.
His hands slide higher beneath my dress, thumbs hooking into the sides of my lace underwear. I gasp and squirm, my heart racing. With one quick motion, he tears the delicate fabric away.
“Those were expensive,” I breathe against his mouth .
“I’ll buy you new ones.” His fingers stroke me intimately, finding my slick heat.
Every coherent thought flees my mind, and I moan, my head falling back. He plays my body like an instrument he’s long memorized.
“There’s my princess,” he rasps in my ear. “Let me hear how much you want this, want me.”
His words, his touch, they ignite a fire inside me, one that’s been dormant for far too long. My breath comes in short pants now, his skillful ministrations pushing me closer and closer to my sweet oblivion or downfall. But I bite my lip, stubbornly holding back. I won’t beg. Not yet.
Sensing my resistance, his movements slow, then stop altogether, and my eyes fly open to find his boring into me, dark and smoldering.
His fingers trail up my neck, over my racing pulse, grasping my chin. “Tell me you’re mine.”
I shut my mouth. But oh, how I want to. How I ache to surrender completely and be consumed by this man who does own me, body and soul.
“Say it.” He crooks his finger inside me. “Say you’re mine.”
My lips part, poised to surrender. It’s pretend. “I’m yours.”
“Give me your hand.”
“Why?”
“Give me your left hand.”
I place it into his.
“You don’t need that anymore.” He grasps the ring and twists it off. “Much better.”
The bare skin feels exposed, vulnerable after wearing it for such a long time .
He holds the ring up between us, inspecting how it catches the low light. “Did you like it?”
“What?”
“The ring. Do you like the ring?”
“No.”
“What do you hate about it?”
That it's from Jason. “The stone is too big.”
“Good.” He tosses it behind him. “And now… turn around.”
He helps me down, and I turn. His hand nudges my back, guiding my chest down to the smooth wooden surface.
“Look in the mirror, princess.”
I lift my head.
He reaches for the scissors on the desk, the metal shining in the mirror’s reflection. “Stay still.”
The cool blade grazes my skin. With a few snips, the tension in my chest eases, and the corset falls open, allowing me to take a deep, shuddering breath.
He tosses the scissors aside, his hands skimming up my spine. “Better?”
“Yes.” I breathe out, my skin tingling under his touch.
He bends over, gathering the fabric of my dress and scrunching it up. I watch, transfixed. The hem rises higher and higher, revealing the lacy edge of my garter and the creamy skin above it.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs, almost to himself.
I meet his eyes in the mirror. The hunger in them matches the ache building inside me, the need only he can satisfy.
“Sebastian.” His name falls from my lips, half plea, half warning.
His hand stiffens on my hip, and I brace myself against the desk. In the mirror, I see a woman I barely recognize. Hair mussed, cheeks flushed, eyes dark with desire. A far cry from the poised bride I was supposed to be today.
But it’s me. I feel like myself again.
He cups my breast, rolling my nipple between his thumb and forefinger. A jolt of pleasure shoots through me, and I gasp, arching into his touch.
“So responsive. Just like I remember.”
My hands grip the edge of the vanity, knuckles turning white. “You’re an asshole, you know that?”
“And you love it.” He chuckles, the sound low and dark.
I can’t argue with that. There’s always been something about his arrogance, his unabashed confidence, that drew me in.
A shiver races down my spine, and his hands skim higher, bunching the fabric of my wedding dress around my waist.
“Touch me.” I lick my lips, my heart hammering against my ribs. “Please.”
“I will not only touch you, princess. I will fuck you like it’s our wedding night. Like you walked down the aisle to me. Promising me our forever.” His fingers sink into me, and I nearly come undone right then and there. “You’re mine, and you will come for me as much as I want.”
I let my head fall back against his shoulder, uncontrolled moans escaping my lips.
“That’s it.” His fingers move faster, harder. “Give me the first one.”
I’m close, so close. “Please don’t stop.” The tension coils tighter and tighter inside me, ready to snap at any moment.
His voice is rough with desire. “Look at me.”
I force my eyes open, meeting his in the reflection.
“Good girl.” He curls his fingers, hitting that one unforgiving spot .
I shatter, my body shuddering against his. Long lost pleasure crashes over me. He holds me through it, his touch gentling and his lips ghosting over my throat, my jaw, whispering words I can’t comprehend in my dazed state.
The last tremors fade, and he turns me in his arms. I clutch his shoulders, still unsteady on my feet.
“You’re so beautiful like this.” The features of his face soften. “All mine.”
“You’re going to break me.”
“Never.” He kisses me again. “But I do aim to ruin you for anyone else.”
You already did.