12. Sebastian
CHAPTER 12
SEBASTIAN
I can't take my eyes off of her, not even for a moment. I’m afraid I’ll wake up, and this whole thing will have been a dream. I stare at her for as long as I can, memorizing every detail, each freckle, every twitch of her nose and wrinkle of her forehead.
There she lays in our bed, her small body curled into the pillow.
It's late in the morning, but I don't want to wake her. Not yet. I know the second her big doe eyes open, I’m going to want to fuck her back into submission until she begs me to stop.
I ease off the side of the bed, careful not to jostle her awake. It takes a second of watching her to make sure she stays blissfully unaware of me. Then I cross the room to the closet and get ready for the day. There are a few things I need to take care of that I want done before she wakes so I can be here for her. She needs me, needs my support.
And in turn I need her, but in a different way. I need to be inside her, claiming her.
I resist the urge to beat off while I shower and make quick work of washing my body and hair. Once clean, I dry and dress quickly before slipping out of the room, still dark thanks to the blackout curtains. I walk down the hall feeling a little lighter, descend the stairs, and step into the kitchen.
As soon as I reach the entrance I stop in my tracks.
Why the fuck are they here?
Drew, Bel, Aries, and Lee are all sitting at my kitchen counter, eating cereal, drinking coffee, and talking quietly. Have they been here all night?
"Did I miss something? Are we having breakfast but no one invited me? I thought I told you guys to leave?” I try to keep my tone level. I'm not unhappy to see them, exactly, but every person here is one more obstacle standing in my way of fucking Elyse across every surface in this house.
Bel leans over, snags a bowl, and slides it toward me along with the cereal and milk.
"I don't eat breakfast," I say, ignoring the cereal. "Plus, I need to take care of something."
Drew plops his spoon into his bowl. "I think you’ve taken care of enough shit. I had to clean up your mess with the PI you almost pummeled to death. Paid him for his time and trauma and also apologized on your behalf. You’re welcome.”
I grit my teeth against the tone of his voice. "I wasn't planning to apologize to him, and I won’t be thanking you for shit. I wanted whatever information he had gathered even if it wasn’t complete. He was already paid for his time.”
Drew reaches into the pocket of his flannel sleep pants and sets a thumb drive on the counter. "Information like this?"
“Yes, actually.” I snag the drive from the counter and walk out of the kitchen and into the small study attached. My laptop sits on the desk there, and I flip it open, turning it on before sliding the drive into one of the open ports.
Bel is hot on my heels, following me as I settle behind the desk, waiting for the information to load. The file pops up, and I open it, holding my breath for a moment. I scan through the folders quickly, digesting as much information as I can. I know I’ll need to take a closer look later but for now I want to see if there’s anything I might’ve missed.
Minutes tick by, and Bel says nothing, just watches as I go through each folder and examine the contents. Unfortunately, Grady didn’t find much more information I didn’t already know. Minus some new dirt he dug up on Ely’s father and a few associates I wasn’t aware he had, there’s nothing I can use for blackmail.
Bel leans against the desk. "Not that you asked me, and not that I think you care what I have to say, but you should really call and apologize to the guy. Drew said you beat him up pretty badly.”
I punch the keyboard, analyzing the screen, "No. I don't apologize. Nor would I apologize in this case, because I did nothing wrong.”
She crosses her arms over her chest and gives me a glare. "Liar. You’re so stubborn, too stubborn for your own good.”
“Thanks, like I didn’t already know that. If you stayed to guilt trip me then you can leave now.”
She frowns, “We didn’t stay for that, and I’m sorry we took over the kitchen. The guys wanted to be here in case you still needed their help with Ely.” She fidgets with her hands like she’s nervous or something. “How is she?”
I don't look at her, and I try to keep my face neutral. "She's fine. Asleep in our bed right now."
"Still tied up?"
I flinch and swallow hard, not wanting to tell her the truth. "No, she’s not tied up. We’re fine.” I shake my head, “But, even if she was still tied up, what would you do? It’s no one else's business what Elyse and I do or don’t do, and Drew shouldn’t be sharing any of it with you.”
"First, Drew tells me everything, and for the record, I want you to know that if she tells me she wants to leave, regardless of the fact you’re my brother and she is your wife, I will do everything I can to help her. She deserves to have a say in her own life.”
The threat hangs in the air between us. I lock eyes with her and for the first time I see the same hardness my own green eyes can have sometimes. "I think I’ll ignore what you just said and instead remind you that she is my wife, my responsibility, and under my protection. Touch her, and we will have a problem.”
With a smirk, she leans down and closes my laptop. "You're not the only one with a stubborn streak. Try me, brother. Try me, and see what happens.”
Anger ripples through me, and I squeeze my hands into tight fists. I’m about to explode on her when my phone rings. Anger gives way to annoyance, and I pluck the thing out of my pocket. Unknown number is all the screen says. Knowing there aren’t many people who have this number, it has to be someone I know or someone with connections. A rush of adrenaline trickles into my veins as I hit the answer key and bring the phone to my ear.
"Who is this?"
"Let's call me...a family friend."
I grit my teeth against the sound of his voice. Piece of shit. I glare at Bel and wave her off.
She looks concerned, and even though I want to explain things to her, I can’t right this second. “Please go,” I mouth to her.
“Fine.” She rolls her eyes, slides off the desk, and slips out of the study. She shoos everyone out of the kitchen, giving me privacy, which I’m thankful for.
Once alone, I turn in the chair and face away from the door, the phone clenched so tight in my fist I’m afraid I might crush it.
"I wouldn't call you a friend, let alone family.”
"Well, you are fucking my daughter, so what do you suppose I call you? Son?”
I bend over and brace my elbows on my slacks, trying to pull enough strength together so I can calmly talk to this dickhead. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
"Technicalities aside, I’m calling to set up a meeting with you.”
“A meeting to discuss what?” I play dumb, hoping he’ll give me more information and my assumption regarding the reason for his call isn’t accurate.
“Don’t play stupid. We both know the agreement I made to sell Elyse in order to cover my debts to your family was with your grandfather. Being that he’s no longer alive, that deal is null and void. If you want to keep Elyse, a new deal must be negotiated.”
I’m fucking shocked this fucker has the audacity to call me and request something like this, but then again, Elyse means nothing to him. The law means nothing to him.
"I think you’ve lost your fucking mind, among other things. I’m not negotiating shit with you. There is no negotiation to be had. Elyse is a human being and in this world, we don’t buy and sell people via contract. We both know that contract with my grandfather would be a great piece of evidence should someone find out you decided to sell your daughter. It does have your signature on it.”
Putting the phone on speaker, I toss it onto the desk.
A soft, humorless laugh fills the space. "Sebastian. It would be in your best interest to make a deal with me. I know I don’t need to explain this life to you, but I have the means to make your entire life hell, as well as hers. Don’t make me do that. She’s suffered enough, don’t you think? We both know in your world of criminals my contract would be declared null at your grandfather’s death. You need to renegotiate since I never consented to anything such as marriage to my only beloved daughter.”
"I’m not scared of you.” I say, letting all the hate I feel for him filter into my voice. “And I won’t let you hurt her or even bring her into this. She’s mine. And that is fucking rich thinking you aren’t in this world as much as I am, or more.”
“She isn’t yours, and you can’t protect her any more than you can protect yourself. Don’t make this difficult.”
“I swear to God…” My voice trails off when a gasp, followed by the sound of glass shattering against the floor, catches my attention. I whirl around in the chair and spot Ely standing in the doorway with a mixture of fear and shock etched into her features. The bowl of cereal in her hands now covers the floor.
Shit . I quickly hit the end button on the call. "Hey, it’s okay. Everything is okay. I won’t let anything happen.”
There's a far away look in her eyes, and I don’t like it. She starts to tremble and wraps her arms around her waist, bunching my football T-shirt up around her hips in the process. Her bare feet are covered in milk, and all I can think is I have to protect her, shield her, remove her from the situation. Needing to touch her and calm her down, I cross the room and gently take her by the arms.
“Shhh, it’s okay. Everything is going to be okay.”
She stares up at me through a sheen of tears then takes a wobbly step back while she pulls herself from my grasp. “Don’t touch me.”
All the anger I've been trying to keep a cap on surges to the surface and spills out of me.
"Don’t touch you? That’s not what you were saying last night. You act like I’ve hurt you, like I’m the one who did something wrong, but all I’ve tried to do was protect you.”
"Protect me? You were just talking to my father about me like I’m some fucking possession.”
I turn and face the desk, grappling for control over my emotions. "No, I wasn’t. You walked in at the end of the conversation. There is no denying your father might see you as a possession to be pawned off and bartered, but you’re so much more to me. You’re my wife. My fucking wife. And I would never do such a thing."
"That’s it. That’s all I am. Not a living, breathing, human. Just an item to be transferred back and forth?" She screams at my back and when I don’t answer she continues her verbal lashing. “I don’t want to be a piece of property, Sebastian. I don’t want to be just your wife. I want to be me. Elyse.”
“And you are…”
“I’m not. Ever since you forced me to marry you, I’ve done only what you want. I’ve been trapped inside that bedroom.” She frowns, “Killing Yanov didn’t set me free; it put me in a different kind of cage. You say you aren’t a monster, and maybe you aren’t as bad as him, but you’re one and the same. Instead of taking control altogether like he did, you offer me the illusion of control. I don’t want either of those things. I want to be happy. I want to be me.”
Something inside me cracks. Every ounce of control I have slips away. How can she compare me to that piece of shit? That abuser? It’s the only thing I hear. The only thing I see.
Whirling around, I march over to her and grab her by the arms, pulling her into my chest. She struggles at first but softens the moment my lips press against hers. The air surrounding us crackles and pops with energy. I kiss her with every ounce of fear and pain I’ve felt for her from the moment she was kidnapped from my bed. I pour all of those emotions into her, letting her feast on them and drown in them.
When I break the kiss we’re both panting, and her eyes are wild and hazy. I’m consumed with the need to claim her.
“I’m fucking crazy for you. I’ve never felt so unhinged. I want to do right by you but every time I think I am it ends up biting me in the ass. How can I protect you? How can I save you if you won’t let me?” It kills me to know I let her down. That she suffered. That she was the one to end his pathetic life.
“I don’t want you to save me.”
“I don’t care what you want.” I growl angrily, and lift her by the arms, carrying her toward the desk. Placing her face down on the table, I force her flat against the wooden surface.
“Sebastian, you can’t…” She starts but I cut her off.
I won’t listen to her tell me what I can and can’t do for her. No matter the consequences, I will protect her from her father, even if it kills me.
"That is where you’re wrong, Little Wife. I can, and I will, do whatever it takes to protect you.” I jerk her underwear down her thighs and then kick her legs apart.
I do the same to my pants until my hard length is in my hand. She’s so tiny I have to move her legs further apart to be able to press inside her warm heat. Breathe. Calm down. I want to claim her but I don’t want to hurt her. Forcing myself to breathe slowly, I press against her entrance. She’s not nearly as wet as I want her to be, but I have no patience for foreplay at the moment.
I hear her soft, pain-filled whimper, and I know I’ll have to make up for my savage treatment of her later because I’m too crazed with need and overcome with desire to stop.
She’s driven me to this point, driven me to insanity.
Pulling out, I spit into my hand, and spread the moisture up my length. Then, even with the desire to plow into her, to punish her, and make certain she feels every bite of pain as I slide deep inside her, I don’t. Instead I gently prod her entrance and slowly slip all the way into her warm heat, stopping only once my balls rest against her ass.
Pleasure ripples through my nerve endings, and I remain seated inside of her, relishing the feeling for a long moment. Then I pull all the way out and thrust forward, deep and hard, the force of it making her gasp. I watch as she struggles to grip the edge of the desk. I’m not gentle with her, not like I have been in the past. I can’t be. Not when she provokes the predator inside me.
“This is what you do to me. You fucking consume me, Elyse. You make me insane.”
I grip her hips with bruising force and use her body as if it was made for me to take from. Her wet heat tightens around me, and I damn near come right then.
“My wife. My fucking wife.” I grit the words through my teeth while I fuck her body, hard and fast, the slap of my balls against her ass echoing through the space, right along with her whimpers which grow louder by the second but don’t hold an edge of pain to them like they did before.
"Say it, Elyse. Say you're my wife."
Too stubborn for her own good, she remains quiet, and even though it pains me I stop. I stop fucking her and instead hold myself deep inside her channel, until goosebumps pebble her flesh and she squirms against me, needing some type of friction.
"Mmmm, nope. If you want to come you will say it; otherwise you won’t. I’ll come inside you, mark you with my seed, but you won’t get to finish.”
“Then do it.” She growls, pushing back against me.
The fight living inside her calls to me, like a beacon of light in the darkness. It’s that spark telling me she still lives inside.
“It’s not like me to be selfish, but if you don’t do it, I will fuck you like this every single time. Using your body, taking from you, filling you with my seed, but never letting you reach the edge. Is that how you want this to be? Do you never want to come on my cock again? Because I can make it a reality.”
She slaps her palm down on top of the desk. "You're an asshole."
"Your darling asshole husband. Now be a good girl and say you’re my wife. Then I’ll let you come.”
Like I have all the time in the world I slowly slip in and out, drawing out the feelings, the tension. "Say it," I demand, tightening my hold on her hips.
Fine. She wants to play it that way I’ll bring her right to the brink, and hold her there.
Slipping a hand between the desk and her pussy I sink into her folds, and use two fingers to stroke her clit. She bucks her hips forward, and moans against the desk, and I stop both touching her clit and fucking her all at once.
"What the hell? Sebastian!” She whimpers with frustration.
"Say it," I demand again. “Say it, and I will make you come so hard you won’t remember what pissed you off.”
I toy with her some more as she goes silent, but like before, it doesn’t take long to build her up and then pull her back down again. Squirming in my hold, she tries to fight against me, seeking out any little bit of friction she can get, but I’m a master at manipulation and could do this all night if need be.
“Oh no you don’t. Tell me what I want to hear, and then I will let you come.”
“Sebastian…” She groans and tries to push back against me, her cunt tightening and drawing me in deeper, and it’s by the damn grace of God I resist the urge to rut deep inside of her and give us both the ending we seek.
“Fucking do it. Say it.” I say the word with a bite of pain, my balls wanting to explode.
“I’m your wife. Your fucking wife!” She cries.
The moment the words leave her lips I start to fuck her again. I blanket her back with my chest and press kisses to the side of her throat while I pinch her clit between my fingers, fucking her hard and fast. Her muscles spasm, and I know she’s about to fall off the cliff's edge of pleasure.
“Oh God!” She moans, and her legs tremble, while her channel pulses around me. Holy fuck. I can’t hold back anymore. Three more thrusts inside her wet heat, and I explode, coming so hard black spots form in my vision. I’m riding a wave of euphoric pleasure I want to last forever.
Once her muscles relax and I can move without gritting my teeth I slip out of her.
“Stay.” I order softly, and rest my hand against her lower back in case she tries to move.
“What are you doing?” she asks, peering at me over her shoulder.
“Putting my cum back where it belongs.”
I slip a hand between her luscious thighs, and with my fingers I collect the cum leaking out of her and down her legs. Then I carefully push it back inside her, making certain it gets nice and deep.
Trapping her like this was never part of the plan, but I will do whatever I need to ensure she stays with me. She remains lying flat against the desk, and once I’m satisfied I pull her panties back up to keep it all in place. I clean myself up and reach for her. She lets me help her to her feet, but I don’t miss the slight wince on her face when she tries to walk past me.
“Did I hurt you?”
“Does it matter?” She looks away from me and down at the floor.
“Yes, it fucking matters.” I cup her cheek and tilt her face up to mine. Softening my voice, I ask, “Where does it hurt?”
“It doesn’t hurt. I’m just a little sore is all.”
“Are you sure?” I press. As much of an asshole as I am, I don't want to hurt her. I want to be better than anyone else in her life: past, present, and future.
"Yes, I’m sure. But I will tell you that you’re an asshole.”
I smile. "I know.”
Less angry and more relaxed than I’ve been all morning, I gently pick her up, step over the cereal mess, and carry her back into the kitchen. When we reach the counter, I deposit her there and then wash my hands at the sink. I can feel her eyes on me as I walk to the fridge, grab the eggs and cheese, and place them on the marble next to the stove.
“What are you doing?”
I don't look at her while I grab a pan, toss some butter in, crack a couple eggs, and slowly start to heat them up. "Making you something to eat since you dropped your breakfast on the floor."
She sighs. "I’m sorry. It... I know I overreacted. Hearing my fathers voice…it just…it scared me.”
Now I look at her. "I can only imagine, but you don’t have to be scared anymore. We’re a team. I’ve got you.”
She scans my features carefully. "You keep saying that, but I can’t make myself believe it."
I shake the skillet, coating it with the eggs while I work it with a spatula. "You know I don’t say anything that I don’t mean, and I don’t make promises I can’t keep. Whatever happens, I’m here.”
I focus my attention back on the eggs, because I don't want to see the rejection on her face while my cum still drips from her. We’re still on unstable ground, and even if she knows how I feel about her, I don’t think she’s changed her mind about us so suddenly.
"Why?"
I consider my response. Part of me wants to tell her I love her, but love is…it’s strange. Do I love Elyse? Sure, but I want to tell her without any of this shit between us. I don’t want her to think I’m saying it because we’re married, or because it’s the right thing to do. I want to tell her at the perfect time, when it matters most.
So instead of telling her, I say something else. Something only solidifying her belief I see her as a possession.
"You belong to me, and I take care of what belongs to me."
"Is that it? That's the only reason."
Tell her. Just say it you fucking idiot. But I can’t make the words come out. I can’t.
"How do you like your eggs?"
"Scrambled," she whispers, and I watch her, my heart aching in my chest as she stares at her knees. When I finish the eggs I plate them and hand her a fork.
She takes the food and shovels in immediately. I watch her as she takes tiny bites, each one filling me with happiness, because I know she’s protected, healthy, and eating.
That all ends when she stops and offers me a fork full of eggs.
Something in my chest creaks, groans, and opens. "No, I made them for you."
She doesn't say anything, but extends the fork out a little more. This time I don't bother arguing and accept her offer. They taste like you would expect—eggs—but for some reason they taste like the best fucking eggs ever when she feeds them to me.
I know it’s because no one has ever cared for me the way she does. Even after everything that’s happened, what I’ve done…she still cares. The knowledge settles deep within me, companion to an unspoken vow forming on the tip of my tongue: I will love this woman until my very last breath is strangled in my lungs. I will fight for that privilege.
And somehow…I’ll make her love me back.
While she continues to eat, occasionally offering me a bite or two, I take the spot beside her on the counter. "Things are moving fast, faster than I want, and we have a lot to discuss, but right now there are more pressing matters.”
“Like what?”
“When we are in public I need you to act the part. It’s important, and will solidify any rumors about our marriage. We need to be convincing. I need you to be my wife.”
“I thought I was already your wife. More pretend...”
I smirk, “You’re my wife in every meaning of the word. But this is different. I need you to show everyone else you want to be my wife. I will need you to listen to me, to follow directions. I will need you to behave, and not put up a fight against every word I say. I’m doing this to protect you, yes, but I’m also doing this so everyone can be certain we’re together. So they know you’re off limits. If I had your cooperation it would make all of this easier.”
“Okay, fine. I’ll do what you want, but I want you to treat me like a human. Not like a possession or thing. I want freedom…respect…dignity. I can be your wife and still be myself.”
“When did this turn into a negotiation?”
She grins. “I’m not negotiating. I will do whatever you want me to do within reason. I just don’t want to lose any more of the person I am to the darkness of this life. I’ve sacrificed so much, too much at the cost of my own happiness, and I can’t do that anymore.”
She’s right and I can’t deny her happiness, not when I know how much all of this is hurting her. I have to keep her safe but not suffocate her. I’ve never seen her as a possession or item. Never seen her as anything other than Elyse, but I guess I need to work on showing her.
“Okay, but Ely?”
She tilts her head in reply, waiting. “Just know you will never be lost in the darkness. I live here, Little Prey. The dark is my home, and I’ll make you my beacon in it if that’s what you want.”
She only smiles, but it’s the kind of smile which makes me hope for better days, and when she feeds me another fork full of eggs, I take it.
Anything to bring her back to me, to bring us back to the way things used to be.