Cecilia’s pov
I stared at Sebastian’s "injured" wrist. The sheer audacity of the man was breathtaking..
As if reading my thoughts, he leaned in, his voice a rumbling reminder. "This was Alpha Xavier’s doing."
His lowered gaze carried just enough wounded pride to trigger my guilt.
"I could take you to urgent care," I offered quickly. "They’ve got great anti-inflammatory gels and proper wraps."
Sebastian shot a look that made my suggestion instantly ridiculous.
He extended his wrist toward , close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his skin.
"The person responsible for the injury should be the one to treat it."
A nervous laugh escaped . "I’m not refusing responsibility! It’s just that I’m not qualified. I thought dical professionals would - "
Under his intense stare, my words died in my throat. "If you don’t mind amateur care, I could... maybe... grab an ice pack from my freezer?"
The corners of his mouth curved with amusent. "Your place or mine?"
I fell silent, weighing my limited options. Taking him to my parents’ was unthinkable. The penthouse lived Liam. My apartnt was the least of all evils.
"Or perhaps..." he leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear, sending electricity down my spine, "we could go to your parents’ house? Weren’t you planning to visit them?"
The warmth of his breath against my ear short-circuited my reasoning.
"Let’s... just go upstairs," I managed, escaping his deliberate seduction by unfastening my seatbelt and practically tumbling out of the car.
Sebastian appeared beside instantly, scooping into his arms before I could put weight on my injured ankle.
"Moving that fast? Training for the Olympics?" he quipped, holding firmly against his chest.
I pressed my lips together and stared fixedly at the elevator numbers, opting for strategic silence.
Inside the elevator, he demonstrated exaggerated politeness. " You choose. Whichever floor you prefer."
I ntally rolled my eyes. I pressed 13.
The penthouse ant Liam, and whatever this night was leading to, I preferred as few witnesses as possible.
I pretended to be engrossed in my phone, tapping and scrolling to avoid his gaze.
Once inside the apartnt, he headed straight for the bedroom.
Wait. This was moving too fast!
"I need to get that ice pack!" I blurted out, a flimsy attempt to break the tension.
"I’ll handle it," he replied, not moving an inch. His voice dropped, a low vibration that seeped into my bones. " Didn’t you say I was good at everything?"
The question hung in the air, a direct challenge.
Heat flooded my chest and face under his molten gaze.
He didn’t wait for an answer, instead sweeping into his arms and depositing gently on the bed.
"I’ll get the ice pack," he stated, turning toward the door.
The mundane words, spoken after that charged silence, broke sothing in . "You’re actually getting it?" The idiotic question was out before I could cage it.
He was back in an instant, caging with his presence as he leaned down, his face inches from mine.
"What were you expecting, Cecilia?" His tone was deceptively light, but his eyes were a hunter’s. "Ulterior motives?"
"Just go," I managed, twisting away from the hook of his gaze.
He left, and I collapsed into the mattress.
He was a male siren, designed to seduce .
As I lay there imagining his return, the scent of garlic and herbs wafted into the room, followed by the siren himself.
" Dinner’s ready," he announced from the doorway.
...Dinner?
What dinner?What about the ice pack?
When he approached, my heartbeat accelerated. When he bent down, my breathing hitched. And then... he simply lifted and carried to the dining area, where actual, steaming food awaited.
"You... made this?" I gestured at the al, then at him, my confusion evident. " I thought you were getting an ice pack."
Sebastian took his seat, smirking. " A man can multitask. I conjured this by magic while the ice was freezing."
"You can cook?"
"Don’t sound so shocked." His smile was light. " I have hidden depths. And the internet."
I picked up my fork, the decent food doing little to clear my bewildernt. Sebastian, detecting it, offered, "Cecilia, there are cooking tutorials online. I’m a quick learner. Don’t overthink it."
"That’s impressive," I admitted.
His smile turned playful. "As you said, I’m good at everything."
Please stop saying that!
He added more steak to my plate, a slow smile playing on his lips. "You’ll want your energy, Cecilia. I do value... stamina."
I choked on my water, my face flushing.
"Cecilia," he asked innocently, handing a napkin, "why are you so flustered about treating my wrist?"
I wanted to disappear.
After dinner, Sebastian carried back to the bedroom and presented with a professional-grade ice pack along with his injured wrist.
I stared at the ice pack for three long seconds.
Taking his hand, I pressed the cold compress against his wrist, my fingers trembling slightly against his skin.
The contrast between the ice’s chill and his body heat sent strange sensations through my fingertips.
"Done..." I began to withdraw my hand.
He captured it mid-retreat, his fingers tracing the lines in my palm with deliberate care.
He explored each curve and ridge, alternating between gentle and firm pressure, sending waves of tingling pleasure up my arm.
My breathing beca shallow and rapid as I bit my lip, unconsciously pressing my thighs together.
Heat flooded my cheeks as his breath ghosted across my skin. "You’ve been so fucking attentive to my needs. Now it’s my turn to take care of yours."
My heart tried to beat its way out of my fucking chest.
I made a weak attempt to pull my hand back, but the resistance was a pathetic joke. " That’s - that’s not necessary."
"Don’t give that bullshit..."
His words got swallowed as his mouth crashed against mine, and we sank into the mountain of pillows.
His kiss was a brutal kind of tender, all tongue and teeth and possessive intent.
Those long, skilled hands of his were fucking sorcery - they moved over like a storm surge, brutal and inevitable.
They pald my tits through the thin fabric of my dress, thumbs scraping over my nipples until I gasped into his mouth.
One hand slid down my stomach, fingers pressing hard against the ache building between my legs.
I was clinging to him like a fucking lifeline, my nails digging into the hard muscle of his back through his shirt.
I was pretty sure I was leaving marks.
When he finally broke the kiss, my whole body was throbbing.
Sebastian pulled back just enough to speak, his breathing ragged. " Cecilia, consider the debt paid. I should go."
The fuck?
As he shifted to get up, my legs locked around his waist of their own fucking volition.
I just glared, my pussy aching with a fresh, wet pulse of pure frustration.
He dropped a light, almost taunting kiss on the corner of my swollen mouth. "If we keep going, I’m going to end up buried deep inside you. And then you’ll be pissed at all over again."
I kept fucking glaring, my silence louder than any scream.
Then I snapped. My hand fisted in his hair and yanked him down, my teeth sinking into the hard ridge of his collarbone.
He grunted in pain, but before he could recover, my tongue was already soothing the mark, laving over his Adam’s apple.
That got him. A ragged, punched-out sound tore from his throat.
The next second, his warm, rough hands were sliding under my dress, up the bare skin of my thighs still wrapped tight around him.
He hooked his fingers in my panties and tore them aside with a brutal, efficient rip.
"Fuck," he growled, his voice raw as his fingers found wet and ready. "You’re so fucking slick for ."
He freed his cock, thick and hard in his hand, and then he was pushing inside, stretching , filling in one relentless, perfect thrust.
I cried out, my head falling back as he started to move, setting a punishing rhythm from the get-go.
"Tell who you belong to," he growled, voice low and rough, each word punctuated by a deep, punishing thrust.
"You," I gasped, the word torn from - undeniable, desperate. "I’m yours."
I was just a body, a collection of raw nerve endings, eting him thrust for thrust.
It was a frantic, sweaty, ssy collision.
The world narrowed to the slap of skin, his guttural groans in my ear, the filthy, wet sound of him driving into .
When I ca, it was with a broken scream, my body clamping down around his, milking him relentlessly until he followed with a raw shout, his own release flooding into .
We collapsed together, soaked in sweat and other things, breathing like we’d run a marathon.
As I drifted toward unconsciousness, his lips brushed my hair, his voice so low I almost missed it. " You can run all you want. But you’re already mine."
Reviews
All reviews (0)