Page 43 of Sebastian's Secret

“Thank you.”

Sebastian didn’t apologize for the tears he’d induced, mainly because he wasn’t regretful for the feelings. He would rather have made her feel something than nothing.

“Can you stand?” Rising to his full height, he thrust a palm out to her, which she took gingerly.

“I think so,” she answered, climbing to her feet unsteadily.

“Let me help.” He didn’t wait for her approval, sliding his arms around her and whisking her from her feet.

“Sebastian!” she shrieked, eyes wide as her feet left the ground. “Put me down. The last time you said you’d help I ended up bound on the floor.”

“True,” he grinned as he placed her gently on the couch. Sitting beside her, he opened his arms and invited her into his embrace. “But in my defense, you literally got what you asked for.”

“That was not what I asked for,” she insisted, but her smile conveyed she was only playing. Wiggling on his lap, she struggled to find a comfortable position.

“How’s that ass?” he asked knowingly.

“Tender.” Meeting his eyes, she laughed. “Thank you, sir.”

“Just what you deserve then.” Wrapping his arms around her, he breathed in her delicious scent. “Are you cold?”

“I’m okay.” She turned toward the flames. “The fire is nice.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “I’ve always loved fire.” He didn’t explain his reasoning, or the fact that once transformed, he could breathe it from his lips. “Want to tell me about that vulnerability?”

“Yes.” She inhaled, as if she was steeling herself. “I’ll try.”

Chapter Eighteen

Rebecca

How to explain a lifetime of being a member of the Monroe family, especially one born with a uterus? It was no easy task, but settling on Sebastian’s lap, Rebecca had never felt more at ease, more able to share.

“Vulnerability isn’t celebrated where I come from.” Resting against his chest, she sighed, thirty years of trapped resentment finally allowed to surface. “Monroes don’t show emotion.”

“Jeez.” Sebastian’s arm tightened around her a fraction. Not enough to rattle her, the gesture reinforced what her gut had already told her. He might be a man who enjoyed pushing her boundaries, but she was safe. Sebastian would protect her. “How do you cope with that?”

“Badly.” She wanted to laugh, but the response got stuck in her throat. “Both Oliver and I have serious issues.”

Shit, had she really just confessed that to the man she’d been obsessing about for days? What must he think of her?

“I don’t mean it like that,” she corrected.

“Like what?” There was no judgment in his tone and when she glanced up, his face was passive. Sebastian was listening; he was interested. That was all.

“Like I’m a freak or something.” Once again, her words didn’t sound right as they left her lips.

“There’s nothing wrong with being a freak.” His hand neared her face, moving the loose strands of her hair from her face. He was so tender, so unlike the man who’d grabbed her by the throat while he fucked her roughly. Her breath hitched at the explosive memory. She had relished every second of his dominance. Sex at the Ritz-Carlton had been good, but this was something else, something she had to have again. “Maybe you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself.”

“Maybe,” she whispered, though he didn’t know the half of it. “My family is so fucked up, I guess I’ve learned to bury my emotions and when you pushed me, it released a raft of them. It was… unexpected.”

“Thank you for sharing that with me.” Sebastian’s voice was smooth, reminding her of the gin she’d scarcely even touched. “I know it can’t have been easy, but I wanted you to know you’re safe with me.”

“I know.” Wiping the solitary tear that escaped down her face, she smiled. “I don’t know how I do, but I just know.”

Leaning toward her, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’d like to know more about your family if you’ll tell me?”

“Like what?”