CHAPTER 37 #3
Sebastian set his sword down. He wasn’t looking for exits, or scanning for threats. He watched only her. “They’re not far wrong,” he said quietly. “We did just bind our souls.”
She inhaled sharply. It made it feel real – hearing him say it aloud and so simply. He stepped closer and reached out a hand to trace his fingers down her arm. “You’re so beautiful.”
She blushed, and almost looked away. But the pull towards him – her need for him – was too strong.
Her hand was shaking as she placed it flat against his chest. Something like relief filled her.
As if she’d been in pain before, and touching him healed her.
Kara had thought she’d wanted to be close to him before, but the bond...
it heightened every urge. His heart beat under her fingers, strong and so alive.
Their golden magic shimmered faintly down their arms, like a second skin.
He leaned down, eyes burning, and brushed his lips to hers.
A wave of heat rushed through her instantly, but not just her desire – his desire crashed in too – every single sensation was doubled, until she couldn’t tell where hers ended and his began.
It was intoxicating. Addictive. Too much and not nearly enough.
Kara threw her arms around his neck, answering him in full.
She pulled him closer with far more force than she’d intended and he let out a low, rough sound – almost a growl – and deepened the kiss.
He stepped forward, guiding her with him.
The backs of her legs hit the bedframe and he moved his hands down to her waist. They were firm, but not demanding.
Kara tugged roughly at his shirt. Nothing graceful about it, just pure impatience.
She wanted him. Needed him. Badly. Sebastian broke the kiss to help her, but every movement was agonizingly slow.
He was watching her face intently. Making sure she could stop at any moment. That she could change her mind.
I don’t want to stop.
“Sebastian,” she breathed, her voice already thready with need.
He groaned in answer, his fingers at the ties of her dress, but he stumbled – too eager, too overwhelmed.
She laughed quietly as she helped him unlace it, his eyes dark and full of want.
Suddenly, her nerves spiked. Her skin prickled.
She faltered – self-conscious under the heat of his gaze.
Her pulse raced as her thoughts betrayed her.
What if he doesn’t like it? Like me? He’s done this before, been with–
His emotions crashed into her then, a love so pure it nearly brought her to tears, a desire so fierce she could never have questioned it.
Sebastian touched her cheek lightly. “Kara, you never have to be nervous with me.” His voice was low, and already a little breathless.
“I just–” she began, embarrassed. “I haven’t – I’ve never–”
“I know,” he said quietly. “It’s alright.”
Together, they undressed each other, the rest of their clothes falling away, leaving everything scattered across the floor.
He gathered her close, skin against skin.
Every place he touched her tingled, sending shivers coursing through her.
She could feel his pleasure at her response.
He could feel hers. Every sensation amplified through the bond.
Overwhelming. Wonderful. He pushed her gently onto the bed, and they sank down together as she traced her hands over his body – the muscular lines of his chest, his arms.
She’d never tire of this.
Never.
Her eyes raked over him hungrily as he held himself above her.
He was beautiful. Carved by war, shaped by training and sheer stubborn determination.
Her gaze fell on the scar under his eye.
She was fiercely glad her magic hadn’t touched it.
She loved it. Loved all of him. He wrapped her tightly with one arm, his other hand trailing up her body – slow, exploring – until it cupped her face, then laced into her hair.
He pulled her to him as his lips found her jaw, her throat, each kiss slow, worshipful even.
A small moan escaped her but he kissed the sound away, gentle even as his body pressed her down into the mattress.
Every touch ached with restraint. He could’ve been commanding, overwhelming.
She knew he had it in him. But he wasn’t. He was being careful.
He’s holding back.
She felt it through the bond – the desperate need to claim her, it was like wildfire scarcely contained. But alongside it was his fear. Fear of being too rough. Too much. He was scared of letting the fire and strength inside him hurt her by mistake.
She reached for his face. “Sebastian. You won’t hurt me,” she assured him. “You could never.”
He stared down, drinking her in. The fear wavered – then eased into relief, awe.
He kissed her again, deeper this time, edged with need.
His hand slid back down her side, but stilled when his touch found her thigh.
He pulled back, searching her face. “Are you sure?” he asked.
“If we do this... I need to know it’s what you want. ”
Her heart thudded painfully. She was nervous, yes – but underneath it was certainty, and overwhelming desire.
“I want you, Sebastian, it’s always been you.”
He groaned low, and rested his cheek against hers. His eyes were squeezed shut as though he could hold the words forever. “Say it again.”
“I choose you,” she whispered. She slipped her hand into his hair, held him to her. “Always.”
The bond flooded with his emotions. Love, wonder, joy. Gods, what he felt for her–
Then he was kissing her so forcefully it stole her breath. His restraint had broken.
Good.
Her fingers skimmed across his shoulders, his back, her nails raking down his skin harder than she meant to. He held her tighter in answer. The last of her nerves disappeared. She wasn’t afraid. Not of him. Not of this. Not when the bond between them hummed so steady. So sure. She was ready.
His hand finally found in between her thighs, fingers circling in practiced movements. Pleasure exploded through her. She arched her hips in response.
Oh my Gods.
He laughed lightly at her reaction, dipping his head down to kiss her stomach, then her hips, the inside of her thigh, hands still doing whatever magic that was.
She barely recognised the sounds that were escaping her.
Time blurred, but she could feel it building inside her – she was coming undone in his arms.
Then he stopped.
“Sebastian–”
But he was already moving back up. Lips on hers, stealing any other words her brain might have been able to make.
“I’ll go slow,” he murmured against her mouth.
“Don’t,” she said, fisting her hands in his hair.
He groaned.