21. Sebastian
Chapter twenty-one
Sebastian
I’m sitting on the couch an hour later, having changed into more comfortable clothes, trying and failing to pay attention to what’s on the television when my phone dings.
After we both changed, Sutton decided she wanted to take a shower, so that’s what she’s doing while I’m attempting to watch TV.
I frown at the screen. I think it’s a comedy, but I couldn’t tell you anything about it.
I’ve been too distracted replaying the kisses Sutton and I shared.
My phone dings again, and I grab it, noticing that the messages are from my sister.
Harriet: Talked to Mum about your idea of hiring someone to manage the farm.
Harriet: Told her you offered to pay. She said she’d consider it. You’re welcome.
Well, shit. Alrighty then.
Me: Fine with me. Just tell me how much.
Harriet: I know it’s been in the family for generations, but that doesn’t mean we have to keep it. Especially if none of us wants to run it. Maybe it’s time to let it go.
I groan, raking a hand over my face, and reread her message. I’d be letting my father down, and his father, and all my ancestors who ran the farm and made it into what it is today if we sold it. Maybe Charlotte will eventually want to run it. Or Harriet’s kid.
A throat clearing has me tearing my gaze away from my phone to find Sutton standing in front of me, her wet hair swept into a bun, wearing a baggy shirt and a pair of gray joggers.
She shifts on her feet, wringing her hands.
I set my phone down and mute the TV, giving her my full attention.
She blows out a breath, her shoulders sagging, and I hate it.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.” She turns to walk away.
“Not so fast.” I reach out and grab her hand and tug her gently toward me.
“It’s embarrassing,” she says sitting down next to me.
“What is it, wife? You can tell me.”
She sinks into my touch when I ghost my fingers along her arm. She mumbles something I can’t understand, and I lean closer.
“You’re gonna have to speak up.”
“I’m horny.”
“How can I help?” Internally, I’m jumping up and down at the possibility of getting to touch her; externally, I’m trying to keep calm and not scare her with my enthusiasm.
“I don’t know, but kissing you made it worse, so it’s all your fault.” She’s talking to her lap instead of to me, and I don’t like it.
I sweep her hair out of the way, lean over, and whisper in her ear. “Do you need to come?”
I don’t miss the small gasp she lets out.
“Yes, but it’s not …”
I brush my lips along the edge of her ear, knowing this could backfire on me but also knowing that if I don’t try, I won’t know. “Do you want me to make you come? Is that what you need, wife?”
“I do.” The words come out strangled. “Please, Bash.”
I kiss her neck where it meets her shoulder, and internally celebrate when she moans. “All you have to do is ask. I told you that, Sutton. Anything you want is yours, but I need your words.”
I move back, waiting to see what she does. Part of me wonders if she’s going to hop off the couch and shut herself in the bedroom. But my brave beautiful girl lifts her head and meets my eyes, a light blush coating her cheeks.
“Touch me. Make me come, husband.”
A growl erupts from my throat, and I skate my finger along the waistband of her pants. She shivers. “Are we changing the rules, or is this a onetime thing?”
I ghost my lips along her jaw. I need to know if this is only for one night or if I’ll get to worship her as often and as much as I want. Either way, I plan to make this the best orgasm she’s had … so far.
“We’re married, which means neither of us can see anyone else, but we both have needs. But only if that’s what you want too …”
I suck in a breath through my teeth. Music to my fucking ears. I’ve always wanted her. All of her. Any part of her she’s willing to give me, for as long as she’ll let me.
“Fuck, yes.”
“Good. Now please touch me. Kiss me. I need you so bad. I’ve wanted you more and more each day since we started living together,” she admits.
Finally.
I tug her into my lap, and this time, I don’t tease. I slip my hand into her pants, rubbing her over her underwear. She wiggles against me, and my dick gets even harder. I slide my other hand under her shirt until it’s resting on her tiny bump.
“More. Bash. More,” she chants.
I shove my hand under the band of her underwear and swipe a finger through her warm wet center. Bloody hell.
“Did you just whimper?”
I laugh. “Maybe? I don’t know. You’re so wet, love.”
“I know.”
“Take them off.” I remove my hand from her pants and tug at the band.
She stands, taking off her pants and underwear in one fell swoop, and I take in the tattoo on her hip.
She whirls around, and her shirt rides up a little, and I zero in on her barely there baby bump.
“Shirt too.” I need to see her. All of her. Including her bump.
She does what I say, peeling it and her bra off. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”
I yank my shirt off with one hand, and I don’t miss the way she checks me out, blushing when she realizes I’ve caught her. Not that I mind her staring at me. In fact, I quite like it.
“More, Bash.”
I shake my head. “This is about you. Now come here, and let me make you come,” I husk out.
She tips her head back, studying the ceiling, and I use the opportunity to stare at her. She’s beautiful. Perfect. She steps closer to me, and I lean forward and kiss her belly. Fucking gorgeous. Mine.
She sinks her hands into my hair, running her nails along my scalp, and my eyes roll to the back of my head. Why did I tell her no when she asked me to get naked? I should have agreed.
Nope. This is about her tonight. Not you.
I focus back on the beauty in front of me, reaching up and circling one of her tits with my thumb. She shivers at the contact. I tweak her nipple gently, and she groans. She likes that. Got it.
My heart stutters in my chest. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d have Sutton here like this—naked and about to let me touch her in the most intimate way.
But I do. And I am one lucky son of a bitch.
I am going to do my damnedest to make this the best orgasm she’s ever had.
That is, until I sink inside of her and make her come on my cock. We’ll get there. One thing at a time.
“Please,” she all but begs.
“Come here.” I tug her down onto my lap, so she’s sitting with her back to my front, my legs splayed out around her.
I kiss her neck, and she relaxes back into me. One hand strokes the inside of her thigh, and the other plays with her tit.
“Fuuucckkk.”
“Feel good?” I continue to play with her breast, squeezing and tweaking it.
She hums. “So sensitive.”
She shifts around, seeking the release she needs, and I trace a path, feather light, up the inside of her thigh and through her soaking wet core. I inhale sharply through my nose, my cock jumping to attention.
“Touch me already.” She grabs my wrist, holding my hand to her pussy.
“I like it when you’re bossy.” I stroke one finger into her.
“Yesss,” she hisses, her hips bucking against me when I pull all the way out of her before adding a second one.
I keep my pace slow and unhurried, enjoying getting to touch her and watch her falling apart.
“I need more. Faster. Harder. Please. Don’t make me beg.”
I do as she asks, pushing back inside of her, and she groans. She’s even more perfect than I could have imagined. I pump in and out of her, using my thumb to rub circles on her clit. Leaning down, I nip along her neck.
“More.” She grinds against me, and I oblige her by slipping a third finger inside of her, which earns me a moan.
“Are you picturing my cock filling you up?”
She looks down to where I’m touching her. “I wasn’t, but now I am.”
She wiggles her ass against me, and I have to squeeze my eyes shut so I don’t come in my pants. I’m so fucking hard. I’ll be taking a cold shower after this.
“I’m so close,” she pants.
I thrust in and out of her a few more times, and then she’s yelling out my name as her pussy squeezes my fingers, and I wish it was my dick she was coming on. She slumps against me, and I pull out of her gently, bringing my fingers to my mouth and sucking them clean.
“So good,” I husk out. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed.” I wrap my arms around her, carry her into the bedroom, and set her gently on the bed. I rummage around in my suitcase for an extra shirt and help her into it.
She reaches for me, and I bend down toward her.
“Thank you,” she murmurs against my lips.
“Anytime, love. Anytime.”
My cock protests when I help her pull the comforter and sheets down so she can climb under the covers. I kiss her on the forehead, and she lets out a contented sigh. Straightening, I walk away from the bed and toward the bathroom to take a cold shower.
I hope that she doesn’t regret this tomorrow.
That she doesn’t tell me it was a mistake.
That she wants to go back to the way things were with our arrangement.
But if she does, at least I’ll have tonight.
I’ll be replaying how it felt to touch her, make her come, the noises she made, how she looked until I’m old and gray.