Chapter 22 – Sebastian
SEBASTIAN
Iwatch her enter our bedroom, my pulse quickening at the flirty smile on her lips and the happy, slightly drunken sparkle in her eyes.
It’s a look that has my blood thrumming and my pulse skittering.
She knows what’s coming. Gag present or not, I fully intend to use Rowan’s offerings tonight.
I feel that familiar pressure building in my chest, a tightening coil of anticipation and power that I’ve come to crave almost as much as I crave her.
She moves toward the French doors, each step deliberate.
It started snowing again about an hour ago and staring at her framed in the large window with a sea of endless white in front of her, glowing as if lit from within, knowing she has my diamond sparkling around her neck is a sight I’ll never forget.
“Come here,” I command, my voice sounding different even to my own ears.
Deeper and charged with intention. She turns and smiles, but she doesn’t come to me.
She wants to play. I can see it in her eyes and I’m only too happy to oblige.
Even if she has no clue what’s coming for her. “Did you have a nice birthday?”
“I had the best birthday of my life.”
Warmth sweeps through me. “Then why are you making me wait now? Shouldn’t you be showing your gratitude?
” Her head tilts and she studies me for a moment until a lightness catches her features.
It’s going to be part of our game tonight.
A little fabricated transgression that gives me reasons to exert control and push her toward the edge we both crave.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, coming to stand before me now like the good, occasionally obedient girl she can be, close enough that I can smell her perfume. Something light and floral that contradicts the heaviness of what’s about to happen between us.
I reach out and trail my finger down her cheek, her neck, stopping at the necklace that rests just above her cleavage. “How sorry?”
Her breath catches as I remove her shirt, leaving her in a delicate pink bra of simple cotton with hints of lace and her tits heaving above it.
It’s so Bellamy. Practical with just a touch of feminine whimsy.
I smile at it, knowing I’m going to purchase her the finest silks and satins and wrap her in everything sexy and sinful she’ll no doubt protest but love all the same.
“Very sorry, Sebastian.”
My name from her lips is almost enough to undo me. Especially right now. Like a prayer. Like permission. Like surrender. My cock pulses as I continue to toy with the necklace and the swell of her breasts above her bra line.
Still…
“It’s Your Majesty, is it not?”
“Yes, sir.” Her voice is winded, and her pupils have widened and darkened.
“I’m very sorry, Your Majesty. I won’t make that mistake again tonight.”
“Somehow I doubt that since you love to test me,” I tell her, dragging my knuckles up her neck and across her jaw. “Now finish undressing for me while I watch.”
With trembling fingers, she begins to undo her bra.
A task that’s taking her longer than it typically would with how riled up she is.
I don’t help her. I don’t rush her. There’s pleasure in watching her disrobe on my command, in witnessing the gooseflesh rise on her skin as each new inch is exposed to the air and my gaze.
“Everything,” I remind her when she hesitates after she finally gets it unlatched and pauses as if wanting further instruction.
She slides the bra off her shoulders and lets it fall to the floor in a whisper of fabric. Next comes the drawstring on her pajama pants until she stands in just her underwear, her chest rising and falling more rapidly now.
“Beautiful,” I tell her because she is. All creamy skin and generous curves, her body is a landscape I’ve mapped dozens of times but never tire of exploring. “Turn around.”
She does, and I admire the gentle slope of her back, the dimples just above her ass, and the way her dark hair falls over her shoulders in soft waves.
I press myself against her back, my clothed body a stark contrast to her near nakedness.
I sweep her hair aside and place my lips against her neck, right where it meets her shoulder.
“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” I murmur against her skin. “About you. About what I’m going to do to you. And then Rowan had to be Rowan and add fuel to my fire.”
A shiver runs through her, and I feel it against my chest, my aching cock.
I snake one arm around her waist, holding her firmly against me, while my other hand traces patterns on her bare shoulder, down her arm, and across to her breast. I cup it, feeling the weight of it in my palm, the hardening nipple pressing against my fingers as I pull and stretch it.
“Tell me what you want,” I demand, dragging my nose along the curve of her neck. “Tell me what I can give you to make this day even better for you.”
“You,” she breathes and swallows audibly. Not shy, never that, but still new at sex, curious, and occasionally a bit nervous with it. “Whatever you want to do to me, I want.”
I smile against her neck, pleased with her answer. This woman. She does own my heart and wears it around her neck. “On the bed,” I instruct, releasing her. “On your back.”
As she moves to comply, I lift up the fucking box from my brother and search through it.
I didn’t look earlier, but I saw Bellamy’s expression and he teased me about it afterward as he explained in great detail the items he purchased.
I hope he’s making good use of his noise-canceling headphones tonight as he’ll need them with his suite beside ours.
The children and Althea are at the other end of the floor and Emily and Javier are downstairs.
I select what I want to try on her. The slim, jeweled butt plug that catches the light when I remove it from its velvet pouch, the vibrator, sleek and modern, with its multiple settings that I’ll have fun experimenting with, and a bottle of lubricant since I already know her ass is a virgin like her cunt was when I first took it.
Something I look forward to doing, but not tonight.
I arrange them on the nightstand within easy reach but also visible to her, so she sees what I plan. And if she chooses, she can say no to it.
Bellamy lies on the bed, her hair fanned out on the pillow, her eyes following my every move.
I remove my shirt slowly, aware of her gaze on my chest and arms. I’m not vain.
I work out as hard as I do to maintain the stamina I require to get through the days and to tire my restless mind at night.
But I know she likes the breadth of my shoulders, the contours in my arms, and the definition in my abs.
I leave my pants on just to frustrate her a bit, but also because as always, she threatens to undo me in a moment, and I want this to last for her.
I join her on the bed, kneeling beside her, swirling a finger across her soft belly, painting pictures on her skin. Her nipples harden immediately, and I waste no time lowering my mouth to one, then the other, tasting her, sucking on the tight, puckered skin and drawing soft moans from her lips.
My hands continue their exploration, tracing the curve of her waist, the flare of her hip, slipping beneath the elastic of her panties to find her already wet. I smile against her breast.
“Eager,” I tease, circling her entrance with one finger but not entering her yet.
“Yes,” she admits with a breathy giggle, her hips lifting slightly to press against my hand.
I withdraw, earning a whimper of protest. “Patience,” I remind her, hooking my fingers into her panties and drawing them down her legs. Now she’s completely naked, vulnerable, and exposed. Just how I want her.
I take my time touching her, building her arousal with deliberate movements. My fingers trail up her inner thighs, teasing but never quite reaching where she wants me most. I drag my nails lightly over her stomach and circle her nipples until they’re tight peaks.
She’s quivering, her body moving, chasing my touch, needing it, and finding it nearly impossible to stay still and quiet.
I kiss her deeply, my tongue exploring her mouth with the same thoroughness as my hands exploring her body. She tastes like wine and cake. Like magic and hope. Like my future. Like the queen I will make her one day. Rowan might have teased, but he and I have talked about it.
She’s not passing. She’s salvation. She’s magic. A goddess brought here just for me.
When I finally slide a finger inside her, she gasps into my mouth, her body arching off the bed. Her cunt is slick and so damn hot, and I can feel her pulse around my finger as I work it in and out, adding a second when her body yields to the first.
“Sebastian,” she moans, her eyes half-closed, her lips swollen from my kisses.
“I’m right here, baby,” I tell her, curling my fingers to find that spot inside her that makes her see stars. “Feel good?”
“So good,” she manages, her hands fisting in the sheets and my hair.
I work her with my fingers until she’s panting. Until I can feel her thighs begin to tremble with the approach of her orgasm. Then I stop, withdrawing completely, leaving her on the edge but not over it.
“No,” she protests, her eyes flying open.
I hold in my smirk. My fiery girl looks beautifully murderous. “Did you think it would be that easy?” I ask, reaching for the lubricant. “We’re just getting started.”
I coat my fingers generously before I press one slick digit against her other entrance. The one we haven’t talked about or even played with yet. I watch her eyes, waiting for her to say no, requiring her consent even if I’m in charge and her body is mine to do with as I please.
She tenses momentarily but relaxes and sighs as I massage the tight ring of muscle.
“Keep going?”
Her teeth sink into her lip, and her gaze flickers over to the plug. It’s not big. It’s small—a hell of a lot smaller than my cock. She gives me a shaky nod and that’s all I need.