Chapter Thirty
Rosalia
Sebastian kisses me deeply, and I wrap my legs around his waist. My small apartment, which is usually a sanctuary of books, soft throws, and quiet solitude, now pulses with a different kind of energy.
This modest space that has sheltered me through so many lonely nights is suddenly alive with desire.
The dishes we washed gleam on the drying rack, forgotten witnesses to this transformation of my private haven.
I’ve dreamed of this moment, of continuing where we left off in his hotel room. In truth, these thoughts have occupied my mind much longer than just last night, even before our first date. But lately, the hunger for him consumes my every thought.
His lips brush against my ear, a cascade of sensation travels from the spot. “Do you have any idea,” Sebastian whispers, each word scraping low in his throat, “how much I’ve been thinking about this? About you?”
He slams his mouth against mine, pinning me to the counter. His hands grip my waist, fingers pressing deeper with each second. I barely recognize this man. Gone is the careful, measured Sebastian. His chest rises and falls in shallow, uneven bursts.
“Wrap your legs tighter,” he orders, the bass in his command rippling through my belly.
I comply immediately, clinging to him as he carries me from the kitchen. My nails claw at his shirt, desperate to feel skin. “You’re wearing too many clothes,” I stutter, each syllable rushed and broken. We careen into the hallway wall, neither willing to separate long enough to navigate properly.
He laughs, and the sound dissolves into a groan. “Patience, darling.” But his pupils have nearly swallowed the brown of his irises. “I plan on savoring all of you.” His fingertips brand my thighs, pressing deep into my muscles.
“I don’t want patience,” I gasp. My fingers slip and fumble at his belt. “I can't—I need—”
“Tell me,” he demands, forehead pressing against mine. His stare burns through me, the room tilting as my balance falters. “Tell me what you want, Rosalia. I need to hear you say it.”
My heart hammers so hard my ribs ache. “I want you. All of you. Please.” The plea escapes before I can stop it.
He pins me against the door frame, molding his perfect body flat against mine. He presses his palms flat beside my head and stares at me. His chest heaves and sweat beads at his temples. “Your wish,” the words are barely controlled, a tremor running through them, “is my command. ”
He swings me around and we tumble onto the bed, limbs tangled.
Between desperate kisses, fabric tears and falls away—my shirt, his belt, barriers disappearing as fast as our restraint.
His precise touches grow wild, erratic. Every trace of his careful technique dissolves into something rawer, hungrier.
“Sebastian,” I whisper, digging my fingers into his bare shoulders when his hand slides between my thighs, running along the lace edges of my panties.
He stops. “Keep going?”
I can only nod; words are impossible. My fingers tremble against his skin as I reach for him. “Don’t—don’t stop,” I stammer, the breathy sound foreign to my ears.
He groans my name, sliding his hand inside my panties. My body jerks upward, needing more of his large and talented hands.
I touch him through his open slacks, his forehead dropping to my shoulder, rhythm stuttering. “Jesus Christ, Rosalia, I can’t—” His mouth crashes back to mine, all teeth and tongue and ragged breaths.
“I need to feel all of you,” I gasp through our kisses.
His pupils are blown wide, his jaw clenched, and his movements sharp and desperate. “I’m going to unravel you,” he growls, the vibration against my collarbone raising goosebumps across my skin. “Piece by goddamn piece,” he promises.
Between my thighs, he moves with purpose, one hand removing my leggings while the other caresses me, drawing a cry from my throat that echoes off the walls. My fingers twist in his hair, yanking hard.
“Please,” I gasp, the sound barely human. “Sebastian, please—”
Moving down my body, he pulls my panties and leggings to my knees.
He positions himself at my core, and coherent thought is impossible.
His mouth devours, licking and sucking until stars explode behind my eyes.
I pant his name like a prayer, mindless with ecstasy.
Rational thought surrenders to pure sensation as he drives me higher and higher with his mouth and tongue until I snap, my orgasm exploding through me.
I bow off the bed, pulling at his hair. He doesn’t let me come down until the pleasure is too much, and I twist away, letting him go .
He kisses my upper thigh. “Condoms? Or do you want to stop?”
“Umm, I’m not sure…” Do I have any? I’d gone on a handful of dead-end dates since moving here. None had led to sex.
Sebastian begins pulling up my leggings, his movements gentle but decisive.
What the hell?
“Okay,” he says.
Wait, what? “What are you doing?”
“I’m stopping. You said you aren’t sure.” His eyes hold mine, steady and serious despite the flush on his cheeks and the rapid rise and fall of his chest.
My heart softens like butter left out in the warm sun. This man, capable of such intensity moments ago, now backs away at my slightest hesitation. I sit up and cradle his face, kissing him and tasting desire on his tongue. “I definitely don’t want to stop. I meant I’m not sure if I have condoms.”
“Oh. Okay.” He nuzzles into my neck. “But know, I’m happy to explore your body all night with my hands and mouth.”
“And I, yours. But I’d rather do more. Let me look to see what I have while you remove those.” I push on his pants and pull them off his hips.
I twist around, yanking open the top drawer on my nightstand, and ransack the contents, tossing charger cords, books, and other clutter onto the floor. Nothing. No. No. Desperation crawls through me. There has to be one somewhere in all this stuff.
Behind me, the whisper of fabric against skin teases at my concentration. The mattress dips, and then his lips press against my spine, each vertebra receiving attention that sends shivers radiating outward. My search slows, then falters completely.
“Any luck?” he murmurs, his breath hot against my skin.
With effort, I drag my focus back to the task.
I slam the now empty drawer shut and attack the one below.
More books, boxes, and useless crap. Wait!
A strip of individually wrapped square packages peeks from between the pages of an old paperback.
I yank the makeshift bookmark from the drawer with a triumphant cry. “Bingo!” I shout .
He laughs against my back. “Found your prize.”
“You.” I turn, grabbing his shoulders and shoving him backward onto the bed. “Are my prize.”
His smile starts sweet, then transforms—lips curling at the corners, teeth flashing in a way that makes my stomach clench. “And you are the sweetest treat. Like cotton candy that melts on my tongue.”
I straddle him, impatient again, tearing at the condom wrapper with my teeth.
My hands shake with renewed urgency. I grasp his erection and stroke him from base to head.
His eyes slam shut, head pressing back into the pillow, every muscle in his neck standing out in sharp relief.
The way his hips rock with my strokes is hypnotic.
I can’t wait any longer. Releasing him, I roll the condom down his thick, long length. The careful tenderness of moments ago evaporates like morning dew under a brutal sun. We’re back to urgent need, primal and raw.
He surges upward, rolling on top of me, but he doesn’t push inside. Instead, he glides along me, pressing into my clit, his kisses turning rough again, teeth scraping my lower lip.
“Sebastian, please,” I hiss, spreading my legs and lifting my hips in invitation. He rocks into me, filling me in a way that’s sin and heaven. His thrusts are shallow, each one slightly deeper than the last, giving me time to adjust and promising pleasure.
The restraint in his movements betrays his struggle for control. “How do you feel this good?” he asks, as he bites then kisses my shoulder.
He shifts onto his elbows, eyes finding mine. The raw vulnerability there catches me off guard. “Are you okay?” he whispers.
I nod, but I’m not sure if that’s true. This is too good, too intense and consuming.
Fighting against my rising tide of panic, I wrap my legs around him and urge him deeper. When he’s all the way inside me, he grinds against my clit. I gasp, sparks shooting through my belly, and the embers of my earlier orgasm flare unexpectedly .
“Rosalia, you’re perfect. I’m damn near losing my mind.”
My pulse thunders in my ears. Every nerve ending blazes alive. I kiss him hard, our teeth clicking together in my haste. “Then let go,” I urge him.
“Not until you come again.”
“That’s impossible. You’ll be trying all night and have nothing for your effort, so focus on yourself.”
“Are you kidding? Nothing for my effort?” He drags his tongue along my neck, teeth scraping the sensitive spot below my ear. “Getting to be in this body all night long is all the reason I need.”
He rolls onto his back, taking me with him. His hands lock onto my hips like iron bands, lifting me up until we’re nearly separate, then driving me back down onto him, impaling every one of my swollen nerves, making me whimper.
I take over, setting a pace that borders on frantic. He explores my body, palms rough against my skin. His thumbs press into my clit, and a shock of sensation steals my breath as the possibility of another orgasm materializes out of nowhere.
My thighs begin to tremble, my muscles protesting the pace. Each downward thrust sends shockwaves through my core. The coiling within me intensifies, a pressure building that feels almost painful in its intensity.
With his other hand, he cups my breast, fingers pinching and rolling the soft flesh, eliciting a symphony of sensations that reverberate throughout me.
As he tugs sharply at my nipple, a flash of rapture shoots through me, and unintelligible sounds spill from my lips as he urges me closer to the edge of release.
“I—I was wrong,” I pant, words slurring together. “I’m going to come. I’m so close.”
In one swift motion, he sits up, taking my breast into his hot mouth, teeth grazing sensitive skin.
I gasp and my body convulses as pure, blinding ecstasy consumes me.
My world dissolves into a rush of sensation, consciousness narrowing to a single point before exploding outward.
A shiver runs from my core to my fingertips, leaving me dizzy.
Everything else fades away. There’s only the pounding of my heart and the intense euphoria drowning me in waves.
“Kiss me,” he demands, his words hot and broken against my mouth .
His thrusts turn harder and sharper, prolonging my pleasure. I clutch his sweat-slicked back, urging him to come undone. His body stiffens, and a second later, he growls out my name as his climax chases mine.
We lie there breathing hard, our hearts gradually slowing as the intensity fades into something softer.
I roll onto my side and nestle into his arms. Our bodies are slick with sweat and lovemaking.
In the hazy glow of the early evening sun, his skin shimmers like burnished gold.
I can’t resist trailing my fingers along the ridges and planes of his chest, memorizing them like a map.
A fleeting worry crosses my mind. This moment is precious and fragile.
He hums contentedly, pulling me closer and pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “That was incredible,” he murmurs. “You’re incredible.”
My chest tightens with something deeper than physical satisfaction.
I close my eyes, breathing in the heady mix of sex and Sebastian.
But even as I sink into this brief sanctuary, the first tendrils of unease curl around my heart.
The very things that make this moment so perfect—the depth of my feelings for him, the soul-deep connection—are also what make it so dangerous. Secrets have a weight all their own.
He traces patterns on my bare skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
I’d love to surrender to his touch, let go of everything except the sensation of his fingers against my body, but the nagging voice in my head grows louder.
Sebastian presses a kiss to my forehead and murmurs, “What’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours? ”
I force a smile and shake my head. “Nothing, just... thinking how perfect this is. Being here with you.”
His light brown eyes search mine, seeing too much. “You know you can tell me anything, right? I’m here for you, Rosalia, whenever you need me.”
If only I could speak the truth without losing him. Without losing myself.
If only past choices could be erased as easily as footprints in sand. Life doesn’t work that way. And I dare not imagine a future where I’m worthy of what he offers .
Tears burn behind my eyes, but I blink them away. I kiss him. “Tonight, let’s be here, in this moment. No past, no future. Just us. Can you do that for me?”
His eyes hold mine for a long moment before he nods, pulling me closer. “For you, anything.”
I lay my head on his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat. In the gathering shadows of this last Friday in April, I allow myself this stolen happiness, this brief respite from reality. But next Saturday’s derby party looms like an approaching storm.
And the weight of Sebastian’s arm around me, the gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath my cheek, makes the choice unbearable. Each kiss, each tender touch from this man reveals a goodness I never expected to find. How can I possibly hurt him now?
Tomorrow will demand decisions. But tonight, wrapped in Sebastian’s warmth, I’ll treasure this perfect slice of happiness and pray for strength to face the impossible choice waiting for me eight days from now.