Chapter 7
TAYLOR
I’d tried like hell over the years to block out the memory of how Sebastian’s skin felt beneath my fingertips, the smell of his cologne, the taste of his mouth.
I’d failed. Badly.
My hands trembled as I unbuttoned his shirt, exposing his skin and a smattering of dark hair. God, I’d forgotten how different this could feel.
Women were soft curves and smooth skin, but Sebastian was hard planes and rough texture, and it set me on fire in a way nothing else had in ten long years.
I ran my fingers over his abs, feeling them tense under my touch, before flicking open the button at his waist. My hands felt clumsy as I pulled his slacks down and off, tossing them over my shoulder.
They landed somewhere across the room with a soft thud.
Given how nice they were, I probably should have treated them with more care, but from the way Sebastian was looking at me, I didn’t think he gave a shit.
He shivered as I slid to my knees, goosebumps breaking out on his skin. When I rubbed my palms up and down his legs, the dark, wiry hair rough against my skin, he moaned.
I glanced up to see him watching me, completely focused, and hooked my fingers in the elastic of his boxers, peeling them off slowly, my hands shaking.
“Jesus, Sebastian, I forgot how pretty your cock is.”
My mouth watered, remembering how he tasted.
I spread his thighs wider and turned my head to kiss the inside of the left one, licking and sucking marks into his skin as I moved higher.
I looked up again to gauge his reaction.
I hadn’t done this in a decade. His eyes were closed, and his cheeks were flushed.
The duvet was twisted tightly in his fingers, his abs flexing with every uneven breath.
I hadn’t even touched him yet, but he was already strung tight, his whole body trembling.
The sight was a reminder of how much he used to enjoy being teased. How he’d get so worked up from anticipation alone that he’d be shaking by the time I finally put my mouth on him.
I needed to see if that was still true.
I blew softly over the short, wiry curls at the base of his cock, and he moaned, lifting his hips off the bed in search of friction. “Oh god.”
“No. Just me,” I smirked.
He chuckled softly. “I’m trying very hard right now not to force that smirking mouth of yours down onto my cock.”
In all the times we’d been together before, Sebastian had never been rough with me. But the thought of him guiding my head down and pushing forcefully into my mouth …
My gut tightened.
Yeah, I might just like that.
I licked a wide stripe up the underside of his cock, teasing the thick vein that ran its length. He gasped and angled his pelvis toward my mouth. I rolled my tongue around the tip, dipping it into the leaking slit and reaching between his legs to cup his balls, rolling them in my palms.
Sebastian’s breath hitched. “Suck them,” he ordered.
The authority in his voice sent a jolt straight to my dick. No woman had ever talked to me like that—direct, commanding, knowing precisely what they wanted. It was so fucking freeing to not have to guess.
I nuzzled into the space between his thighs and did what he asked, the taste and feel of him making my head swim and my cock throb in my jeans.
Sebastian grunted and pleaded for more. I hollowed my cheeks, and he shouted.
For a second, I wondered if I could make him come just from sucking his balls, but I wanted his cock in my mouth more than I wanted to test that theory.
I pulled away with a wet pop and grinned up at him before licking back up his shaft and fluttering my tongue over the sensitive notch just beneath his crown.
“You’re killing me,” he said breathlessly.
“You love it,” I told him, sliding him between my lips and then engulfing him fully. I gagged, spit dribbling out the corners of my mouth and tears leaking from the corners of my eyes.
But I wasn’t a quitter; I wouldn’t back off.
I breathed through my nose as I bobbed up and down, loving the feel and taste of him on my tongue.
“I do love it,” he agreed, his hips thrusting, his dick stretching my mouth wide.
I watched Sebastian’s face while I sucked him. He looked so beautiful like this—his lips parted, his eyes heavy-lidded, that strong jaw slack with pleasure.
But my own jaw was starting to ache. I was out of practice, and I didn't know how much longer I could keep this up. I wanted to make this good for him. Wanted him to remember this—remember me—once tonight was over. But my jaw was screaming, and wanting to leave him dreaming about my mouth wasn’t enough to override the cramping.
Thankfully, Sebastian’s hand slid into my hair, and he tapped the back of my head, our old signal. “Tay,” he whispered. “Your hand. Use your hand.”
Relief washed through me as I pulled off and immediately wrapped my hand around his shaft, loving the way he thickened in my grip.
I stroked him, slow at first, then faster as his pants became louder, his words more needy.
When I rubbed my thumb over his slit, he groaned and threw back his head.
I pulled off, spitting into my palm, and wrapping my slick hand around him again, working him with quick, hard strokes from base to tip, twisting slightly on the upstroke.
“Yeah, Tay. Just like that,” he bit out.
I kept up my pace until his back arched fully off the bed and he let out a loud groan, cum shooting out to coat his chest and abs and dribble over my hand.
I stroked him through it until his whole body went slack.
When his breathing finally steadied out, Sebastian propped himself up on his elbows to take in the mess, his lips curving into a smile. “I thought you wanted that in your mouth,” he teased, a strand of dark hair clinging to his damp forehead.
I lifted my hand, slick with his cum, and licked a wide stripe from my palm, enjoying the salty-sweet taste. I held his gaze, watching his expression go from amused to something hotter as I proceeded to lick up every drop—including what was on his stomach. “Mmm. Tasty.”
He shook his head, his eyes crinkling at the corners and his lips twitching like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to kiss me or laugh at me.
I lowered myself onto him, nuzzling my nose against his, hovering just shy of his mouth but not closing the distance.
I’d been with women who refused to kiss me after I went down on them, and while that had never been a problem for Sebastian in the past, I didn’t want to make any assumptions about his likes or dislikes now.
“Can I kiss you?”
“I’d be offended if you didn’t.” He circled my neck with his palm and tugged my head down to bring our lips together. His tongue licked into my mouth and explored greedily.
His fingers tangled in the hair at my nape, and I moaned into his mouth.
The kiss turned hungrier. More demanding.
The next thing I knew, Sebastian had hooked his leg around my hip and rolled me onto my back. I’d always enjoyed being down on my knees for him, but being pinned under him was pretty fucking great, too. It felt so good—so right—to be pinned against the mattress, his hips holding me in place.
“What do you want?” he asked with a mischievous glint in his eye.
I wanted …
Fuck.
After only a couple of hours with him, I wanted everything.
More of this.
More of his cock.
But mostly, just him, back in my life.
Which made absolutely zero sense. Tonight was supposed to be it. A one and done for old time’s sake. A sexy trip down memory lane.
I needed to remember that. To not make this out to be more than it was.
I was about to tell Sebastian that I wanted him to return the favor when I felt his dick pressing into my stomach.
“You’re hard again?” I asked, a touch of envy slipping into my voice. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been able to go two rounds back to back.
He sat back on his heels with a shit-eating grin, wrapping his hand around his dick and giving himself a slow stroke. “Quick refractory period has its benefits.”
“Lucky bastard.” I huffed out a laugh.
Or maybe I was the lucky one because that meant I could have him again before I went back to my room.
He smirked, but then his face turned serious. “Tell me what you need, Taylor. I want this to be good for you.”
“It has been good. So fucking good.” My voice came out rough, scraped raw with emotions I was trying so damn hard to keep at bay.
His hand slid up my chest to rest over my heart, and I wondered if he could feel how hard it was pounding.
“Whatever you need, Tay.”
My throat felt tight. What did I need? To not fuck this up. To somehow make ten years apart disappear.
“I just need you.”
Shit. Where the hell had that come from? I sounded like some lovesick fool, not a guy having a casual hookup with his ex.
But when Sebastian’s expression softened, I couldn’t bring myself to take it back.
He straddled my lap, his gaze flicking down to the button of my jeans and then back up.
I nodded.
When he lowered the zipper, I lifted my hips so he could pull my pants and boxers down, tossing them away. He licked his palm and fisted my dick, watching me. He circled the head with his thumb, spreading my pre-cum over my skin.
I moaned.
“I love your cock,” he told me, his voice raspy, as he inched forward to line us up. “So long and thick.” He spat into his hand and started stroking us together, watching our cocks sliding through his fist.
All the while, I watched him—the way his jaw clenched, the wya he was breathing hard, completely focused on what he was doing to us.
He twisted his wrist on the downstroke, and I whimpered before I could stop myself.
“That’s it,” he encouraged as I thrust into his hand, lost to the sort of pleasure only Sebastian had ever been able to give me.
And fuck, wasn’t that the truth?
Ten years of trying to find this feeling with someone else, and here it was, like no time had passed at all. Like my body remembered him even when my brain had tried to forget.
Heat coiled in my spine, building with every slide of our cocks. The pressure of his fist, the way he watched me—it was too much. I clenched my teeth, trying to hold on, but I couldn’t.
“That’s it. Give it to me.”
I came with a shout, and Sebastian followed not far behind, stroking us both through it, easing his grip just before it became too much.
He collapsed onto his back beside me, and I rolled my head on the pillow to look at him.
“Stay with me tonight?” he asked, his voice quiet, almost hesitant—as if he was afraid I might say no.
A lump formed in my throat, my brain screaming at me to slow down.
A couple of hours ago, I’d hated this man—or, at least, thought I had.
An hour ago, I’d learned that everything I’d believed about us was a lie.
Hell. He’d confessed to having been in love with me.
Past tense. But lying here, that love didn’t feel like something we’d left in the past. It felt very present.
I knew I should say no. Should get some distance and figure out what the fuck I was actually feeling before I did something stupid.
But I didn’t want to leave. Didn’t want to see that hope in his face fade to disappointment. Didn’t want to walk away from him, even if staying meant risking everything.
Fuck it. I’d already jumped off the proverbial cliff by coming up to his room in the first place. I might as well see where I landed.
“Yeah, okay.”