Chapter Nineteen #2
“Fuuuuuck…” My thighs trembled in his grip as he kept going, inch by inch, pulling back just enough before pressing deeper again.
His breath panted into mine, our mouths meeting in brief, broken kisses neither of us could sustain, all our focus on him finally getting all the way in—driving himself home.
He dragged out once more, then slid fully inside, lifting my ass from the bed until I was nestled over his hips, and we both breathed out into the space between us.
Sebastian pressed a soft kiss to my lips. “You feel so good,” he whispered hoarsely. “So much better than I remembered.”
I rolled my hips, clenching around him, and smiled when his eyes fluttered shut and a quiet gasp slipped free.
“Fucking heaven,” he groaned, shifting his hips slightly as he dipped to kiss my neck. The scratch of his beard against my skin raised goosebumps instantly.
My hands went to his hips, over his ass, nails digging in as I pulled, urging him to move. “Come on, Ash.”
“How do you want it?”
I smiled to myself. “You know the answer to that.” My blood burned beneath him, under my skin, waiting to combust the moment he started to thrust.
“Fast?” he breathed against me.
I nodded, biting down hard on my lip.
Sebastian pulled his hips back, the drag of his cock lighting me up from the inside.
“Rough?”
“Yes.”
He eased back just enough for our eyes to lock again. “Hard?”
I dug my nails deeper into his skin, watching him bare his teeth, a soft hiss pulling from him.
“You know what I want, Sebastian,” I said. “Give it to me.”
He grinned, his gaze sweeping over my face, and practically purred, “My pleasure.”
Then he snapped his hips forward, hard, rocking me into the bed and setting me on fire.
Pleasure sparked through my body, all the way to my toes, curling tight as he began to thrust in earnest. His forehead pressed to mine, breath hot against my mouth, soft grunts leaving him as skin slapped against skin.
“Fuck—yes. Like that.”
My neck strained as I arched back, lifting my hips to meet his punishing thrusts.
He hit exactly where I needed him, again and again, until my mind went blissfully blank from the feel of him.
I didn’t hold back a single sound, knowing how much he loved it—how much he needed it.
And it wasn’t a show. He was driving me insane with every thrust, racking pleasure through my entire body.
My hand slid into his hair, keeping him close as I watched him now, trying to hold on to every second of it.
This was Sebastian—his body over mine, his cock buried inside me, his shoulders flexing and straining as he moved.
He looked down at me, his expression etched with pleasure, yes—but also something softer. Almost reverent.
The realization that this was actually happening—with him—pushed me closer to the edge more than the frantic movement of our bodies ever could. My cock was trapped between us, untouched and slick with precum, straining for friction.
Sebastian’s breathing grew more labored, his chest rising and falling faster, his control clearly fraying. I loved seeing him like this. Loved that I was the only one who could make him give in to his instincts.
I tightened my grip on his hair. “Make me come.”
“Anything for you, my pet.” He tilted his head, bracing himself on one hand as the other slid between us. “Anything.” His lips crashed back onto mine as his hand wrapped around my cock, no patience left in the way he stroked me.
“Fuck—”
My thighs clung to him, heat coiling low in my gut, pressure winding tighter and tighter until it was almost unbearable. My balls pulled tight, my breath stuttered, everything in me straining toward it—right there—
“God…” he breathed, awed, like he was watching something sacred happen.
I cupped his face, beard rough beneath my palms, needing him close, needing him with me. “Come with me.”
He nodded against my forehead, breath shaking, thrusts turning messy and frantic. “Fuck—yes—”
The pressure snapped.
I gasped.
He groaned my name like it hurt, hips jerking hard as he stayed buried deep, his cock throbbing inside me as he came. The sounds he made, the way his body shuddered, the heat flooding through me—it all tipped me over the edge, and I spilled into his hand, pulse after pulse breaking free.
Everything blurred. My head went light, the edges of my vision soft and hazy as I watched him breathe, watched the way he stayed over me, still connected, still holding himself inside like he couldn’t let go yet.
I thought, distantly, how much I would’ve loved it if he’d actually filled me.
Next time.
“I love you,” he whispered against my mouth, voice wrecked, body slowly easing as the aftershocks faded.
I let go of his face and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him down with me into the shared heat of the bed. Sebastian pressed a kiss to my throat and stayed there, breathing me in, his weight warm and familiar.
For a long moment, neither of us moved.
The haze began to lift, and little things came back into focus—the muted city noise drifting through the window, the rumpled sheets beneath us, the steady rise and fall of his chest against mine. This room. This bed.
Look at us back here.
I traced a slow line over his shoulder, reacquainting myself with the feel of him, letting the silence settle between us.
Sebastian pulled out, slow and careful, disposing of the condom before returning to my side. He pressed soft kisses along my cheek and down my neck, unhurried, like he had nowhere else to be.
I smiled, letting myself take it in.
He grabbed something—a shirt maybe—and gently wiped my chest, then his. “Do you want water?” His voice stayed low, as if anything louder might break the moment.
I turned just enough to brush my nose against his cheek. “Don’t leave.”
His arms came around my waist, drawing me closer, fitting us together again. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
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 been waiting 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.
His tongue pressed, patient, waiting for my body to yield—and when it did, when he finally slipped inside, I clutched the pillow hard, panting into it.
“Ash…” I breathed as I heard him opening the lube again.
He kissed his way back up my spine, keeping me on my side. “I’ll go slow.”
I knew it was a question, even if he didn’t say it like one. I nodded, helpless.
He was careful with his fingers, even though my body was already loose, already open. And when the head of his cock pressed back against me—condom on—he stopped, chin resting over my shoulder. “Do you want this?”
“More than anything.”
A tortured moan left me as he eased inside.
“Slow, my darling,” he murmured against my shoulder. “Let’s fuck so slow we burn this bed to the ground.”
I reached back, tangled my hand in his hair, holding myself in place as he rocked his hips in a deep, unhurried grind, barely pulling out before pressing back in.
Sebastian brought his hand to his mouth, spat into his palm, then wrapped it around my cock, stroking in the same slow rhythm. The slick glide made me shudder.
“Good?”
“So fucking good,” I groaned, pushing back into him.
“Perfect,” he said softly. “You’re perfect.”
The shower was running behind me.
I stared at myself in the mirror—at the mess of tangled curls on my head. There were bags under my eyes, but my skin looked fucking radiant. Glowing.
My gaze traced over it all. To the hickey blooming just under my jaw, dark and unmistakable. To the bite mark peeking over my shoulder, the one he’d left when he came. To the raw redness across my chest, still tender from the scrape of his beard.
Steam began to curl through the room.
Sebastian stood by the glass door, one hand under the water, testing and adjusting the temperature. My eyes dragged back to my reflection—to my kiss-swollen lips.
That last round had turned into an hour-long, achingly slow fuck that ended with me spilling over his hand again. Instead of letting me drift off afterward, he’d kissed me deeply, his hands roaming until he pulled me up and into the bathroom.
My thighs were still trembling.
I should’ve felt exhausted. My body certainly was.
But my mind was lit up—completely consumed by him, by this fire burning between us.
An insatiable need to have, to taste, to claim.
Whatever doubts I’d been carrying hadn’t disappeared—they’d become something else entirely.
And as I cataloged the bruises marking my skin, the only thought left was how badly I needed to make him mine—to hold on before anything could take him away again.
Bare feet padded across the tile behind me. I felt his presence before I saw him, his gaze roaming over me as well, a low hum of approval leaving him. Goosebumps erupted across my skin.
Because he’d wanted the same thing.
And he’d gotten it.
Sebastian braced his hands on the counter, caging me in, a smile tugging at his mouth as he looked at our reflection.
I leaned my head back against his shoulder. “I’m looking a little rough.”
Shaking his head, his eyes swept over me once more. “Masterpiece.” That was all he said.
He pressed a kiss to my cheek before moving away toward the shower, and I turned to watch him go—watch the muscles in his legs tense and flex with each step.
His ass tightened as he walked, and the low bathroom light caught every line of him, highlighting each perfectly carved groove.
He was so tall. So thick. Dark hair dusted over his calves, his thighs, his groin—Sebastian turned onto his side, and my gaze followed that perfect trail up his chest. His hair was a little longer, now mussed from my hands.
I loved him like this—wilder.
He stepped into the shower, the waterfall head soaking him in seconds. Closing his eyes, he ran a hand through his hair, and I swear the moment slowed as I licked my lips.
“What are you waiting for?” His voice carried through the fogged glass, his grin unmistakable even through the steam.
I pushed off the counter, my mouth curling into a smirk.
My turn.