Chapter 10 #2
Oh, sure. So simple. He wanted answers? Fine.
He’d get them. My head snapped up, and I felt heat rushing to my cheeks before I spat, “Yes. He did. With a friend of mine,” I added, spitting out the word.
“Or I thought she was. We were supposed to work together. Instead, I walked in on them fucking in my bed. All of a sudden, I developed a craving for desert life.”
“He’s a stupid bastard,” he deadpanned.
“Would you look at that? Something we can agree on,” I muttered.
What the hell was I doing? This was all wrong.
Being here with him like this, the energy in the air, the memories crowding in and filling me with longing.
The sort of aching longing that followed loneliness.
Rejection. They had made me feel so small and unwanted. Replaceable.
“Hey, look at me.”
That was the problem. If I looked at him, I might not be able to stop looking. Wanting. Hating myself for being so needy. “I can’t,” I whispered.
“Why?” He was rounding the table, taking one slow step after another, making it impossible to breathe. “Are you so afraid of looking at someone who sees you as more than the girl who was on that cooking show once?”
“Don’t joke about that.” It was enough to make me look up at him, anyway, to steal the breath from my lungs when our gazes locked and forget everything I ever knew—who I was, what I wanted, what it would take to get it.
None of that mattered in this moment with Sebastian staring into my soul and my battered heart skipping a beat.
“I don’t understand what’s happening,” I whispered, searching for answers in his steely eyes. “I keep telling myself to stay away from you. So how am I here, like this?”
“You’re asking the wrong person.” He used both hands to brush my hair back from my face and tilt my head back so our mouths would align.
His thumbs stroked my cheeks while he continued, “Because I was wondering the same thing. I only know I can’t stand another minute without knowing what your mouth tastes like.
” His gaze lowered to my lips, his nostrils flared, and a soft groan stirred in his throat.
Was this a mistake? Did I care anymore about him touching me and staring into my soul? “You’d better find out,” I whispered, straining upward to meet him.
He wasn’t gentle. He did not take his time.
No, instead, he claimed my mouth all at once, his kiss urgent, determined, sweeping aside any last lingering doubts in favor of pure sensation.
The thrill of giving in, finally getting what I had refused to admit I wanted. Since when did my needs not matter?
God, there was so much of him! His hands were everywhere, lighting my body on fire, giving me no choice but to cling helplessly to him or else drop to the floor when my head started to spin.
A whimper passed from my mouth to his, but he only responded by growling, wrapping his arms around me, and lifting me onto the table.
This was wrong. Not here, not now, even if nobody would show up for work until morning, but I wasn’t about to try and stop it. I was through denying myself. Just this once, I would forget my goals and dreams and let myself go.
And I did that by allowing my hands roam over his chest and down his abs, reveling in his rippling muscles.
But that wasn’t enough, just like it wasn’t enough for him to feel me up over my shirt and bra while nipping my bottom lip and thrusting his tongue against mine.
With a frustrated grunt, I pulled my shirt over my head, squealing when he buried his face in my breasts, letting his lips and tongue explore my skin until I wrapped my legs around his hips and pulled him closer because, my God, the ache. It was too much.
His delicious, deep growl made my nerves sizzle before he used those big hands on my hips, pulling me close against his insane erection. Just as big as the rest of him, thick, demanding. My already hot, throbbing pussy tightened painfully, aching until I moved my hips in a vain attempt at relief.
“In such a hurry,” he muttered, pulling down my lacy bra cup, taking my nipple in his mouth while rolling the other between his fingers.
“Yes,” I whispered, running my fingers through his thick hair. “Yes, please.” I didn’t even know what I was saying. I only knew what I needed and wanted, and he could give it to me. He had exactly what it would take to wipe the slate clean. To make me forget.
I slid a hand between us, cupping him, craving his throaty growls against my skin.
The sound of it was almost as good as the feel of him, his muscles working under his skin, skin I explored once I pulled his shirt free of his waistband.
With a grunt, he tore it open, buttons popping off and skittering across the floor.
“Touch me,” he growled, dragging his fingers over my skin the way he wanted.
I had to, didn’t I? I had to touch him to finally indulge in what I had craved for weeks. He was like chiseled granite but warm, real, and currently pressed against me.
He lowered me onto my back, and I sucked in a surprised breath at the cold metal against my hot skin. The sensation passed, replaced by the fire that spread through me as he kissed his way down my stomach, swirling his tongue around my navel before his fingers hooked around my leggings’ waistband.
My God, this was happening. I was lifting my hips for him, helping him pull the fabric away from my body, letting him take my thong with him. I opened my eyes, parting my legs, watching as complete hunger washed over him. Greedy, animal hunger that made his ragged breaths come faster.
“So beautiful,” he whispered, slowly lowering himself until he was on his knees. I couldn’t believe my eyes. There he was, kneeling in front of me, propping my feet on his shoulders. There was no buildup, no teasing. He simply lowered his head and buried it in my pussy all at once.
“God!” I shouted into the silent room, my heart pounding out of my chest, my back arching.
Too good, all of it. I couldn’t handle it with the presence of his tongue in my folds, licking firmly, hungrily.
His soft grunts of pleasure only pushed my pleasure further.
Higher. My head rolled from side to side, and a chorus of helpless, guttural moans filled the air.
All he did was hold me still, forcing me to take it, giving me more than anyone ever had.
It was happening. I was tightening, the tension in my core reaching its peak. “Yes!” I shouted, practically sobbing while my thighs tightened around his head. “Yes! I’m coming!”
And then I did, shaking in the aftermath, bliss radiating through me as the result of weeks of longing finally came to a head and faded away. Soon, there was nothing but sweet relief. Why the hell did we wait so long for that?
I was the only one relieved. The kisses he delivered to my inner thighs were just as hot, full of need. He was breathing harder than ever by the time he lifted his head. “I could live off your taste,” he rasped, making me shiver. Who wouldn’t want to hear that from a man like him?
“But what I really want to know is…” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, leaving it on the table, and undid his belt. All the while, he held my gaze, forcing me to sink deeper under his spell. “Is this pussy as tight as I think it is?”
Again, I shivered in anticipation. Raising myself on my elbows, I watched, transfixed by the sight of him pulling his dick free from his boxer briefs.
Holy fuck. Thick, with a wide head that oozed precum.
Yes, my pussy would be tight when it came to getting fucked by something like that.
The need was building in me again, hotter this time, all-consuming.
“What do you think?” He opened a foil packet and rolled the condom down to his base. “Should I try and find out?”
“You’d better,” I told him, holding my breath, trembling as he dragged his head through my slit, so thick and wide.
So, so good once he breached my entrance and sank inside.
My head fell back, all of my focus trained on the place where our bodies now met.
He sank deeper, filling me, stretching me to my limit.
All I could do was reach for him, my nails dragging across his skin, my body clenching around him.
I locked my legs behind his ass, pulling him deeper, my body taking over and demanding what it wanted next.
With a dark, wicked chuckle, he took me by the hips and set his rhythm. “Tight…” he groaned, closing his eyes. “So fucking tight. So greedy. I can still feel you fluttering around me. You think you can give me another one?”
“Yes,” I moaned. It was inevitable. There was no other way this could end, not with him working my body the way he did—grinding against me, rubbing his base against my clit, massaging me inside with every deep, sure stroke.
“That’s good,” he grunted, slamming himself hard enough to make me yelp while the table inched across the floor. “Because I want you to come on me. I want you to come with me inside you. Are you going to do that for me?”
“Yes!” I sobbed, already halfway there, not sure if I wanted to go on forever or if I couldn’t wait for the explosion I knew was coming. “Yes!”
There were no more words after that. There was only sensation, ragged breathing, deep groans, my helpless moans drowning the rest of it out as he took me higher, further, with every sharp stroke.
Faster, harder until there was nothing I could do but close my eyes and give myself over to him. To this.
“Yes, just like that… I’m coming… I’m… Sebastian!” A deep shudder ran through me when the tension broke. Oh, yes, that was good, that was perfect. Coming with him inside me, feeling every inch of him still moving, taking what I wanted so much to give.
But not for long since he picked up his pace, taking me hard, pounding me in the final moments before slamming deep one last time.
I opened my eyes to find his eyes closed, the tendons standing out on his neck.
Grunting through clenched teeth, he held himself in place for a few seconds, pulled out, and left me whimpering softly in the aftermath.
Holy shit. That just happened. In the kitchen. There was no way I could have imagined it being that explosive. Intense. It was like I had never been with a man until now. He was in a whole different league.
And it was not my league. Dammit. Why did the voice of reason have to sound off in my head at that particular moment? Couldn’t I at least come down from my orgasm before reality started trickling in?
Then he smiled and made things so much worse because I wanted to smile back. I wanted to sit up and let him hold me.
Instead, I did sit up, only it was to adjust my bra and look on the floor for my clothes. “I need to sanitize this table,” I murmured, unable to look at him for fear of what it would do to my heart.
“You can give yourself a second or two,” he pointed out, chuckling softly as he pulled himself together. “I would say you owe me a shirt, but I ruined it myself. I guess that’s what you do to me.”
I didn’t find it so funny. It was so easy for him to do this to me, wasn’t it? I barely offered any resistance at all. And now he had leverage over me because he knew I wanted him. He had to know I would want this again, more than ever now that I knew how good it could be.
It meant being weak, leaving myself open to being hurt by him. I told myself it would never happen again, goddammit.
“I’m sorry about that,” I managed, my throat tight. I would never be able to use this table now without thinking about what we had done. Stupid Claudia.
“Hey. There’s no fire. You don’t have to rush around,” he reminded me with a laugh in his voice.
When all I did was slide into my flats and head for the cleaning products, he stopped me, holding me in place when he took me by the hips from behind.
“Claudia, come on. It doesn’t have to be like this. ”
His lips brushed against my neck, and dear God, I wanted to lean against him. I wanted him again.
“Don’t you see? That’s why I can’t do this.” I forced myself to ignore the way his kiss made me shiver. I had to. One of us had to be smart, and it was the one of us who had the most to lose. “I got fucked over back home. I don’t want that to happen again.”
“Who says it would?”
“Nobody starts off to fuck somebody over. At least, I hope not.” I finally managed to extricate myself from his grasp, turning in time to observe his crestfallen expression. It only made things worse. More difficult.
“You have a funny way of standing on your principles when you’ve already gotten what you wanted.” He folded his arms over his open shirt, his eyes narrowing. “You can’t take it back now. You can’t pretend it didn’t happen or that you didn’t want it just as much as I did.”
“I wasn’t trying to pretend. I’m not going to lie. But that doesn’t mean—”
“I know what it means. You can spare me.” Holding up a hand, he backed away, repositioning the table, and heaved a heavy sigh of frustration. “I’ll help you clean up.”
“You don’t have to.” Because I only thought I knew what torture was while fighting to keep away from him. This was true torture, having to face him in the aftermath.
“Fine. Set the alarm.” His soft grunt was the last thing I heard before he went to his office, wasting no time getting his things together and leaving me alone.
So I leaned against the table, closed my eyes, and asked myself what the hell was supposed to happen next while my body continued to tremble.