Page 56 of The Final Rose
He makes a sound that doesn’t agree with his good boy image, and his mouth closes on my nipple while he tugs the other. His hot mouth and the pad of his fingers trace infuriating circles and the feeling travels down to my core.
“Sebastian…” I beg him between moans and whimpers.
His big hands go down my waist. He kneads my hips, and my body chases his.
“I got you, Callie,” he whispers, and I hope he’s telling the truth.
Those fingers go to the buttons of my jeans, and he undoes them in a flash. I’m hot all over, a pleading mess and so high on him. His flesh, his taste, his warmth.
He tugs the jeans down my legs, and I’m relieved he’s as desperate as me. Once my jeans are discarded alongside my shoes, I’m back in his arms, my legs back around his narrow waist as he presses me again to the wall like it’s my place.
His teeth graze my jaw, his hand moves my face out of the way to fulfill his whims. And I let him because at some point a knot came undone.
Sebastian turns into a savage as he devours me. I love his rough side, the grunts, and his tongue trying to trace all over my skin. If I’m expecting a gentleman, I’m mistaken.
I feel his hand coming between us, lowering his pajamas, and then I’m overcome by the feeling of him hot between us.
I hold my breath; he chuckles. Somewhere in my deep conscience, I know this is wrong. I can’t be doing this. I shouldn’t wish for things that aren’t meant for me.
Even so, I let his hand between us tug my underwear to the side. I feel his finger making a path between my legs and I throw my head back. Sebastian bites my jaw, and I move, practically hopping on top of him, begging like I never thought I would.
He doesn’t give it to me straight away. His fingers tease my clit slowly and I have to bite my lip down not to scream.
“I wish I could see you riding my hand.” He says as the words break. His voice is low and raw.
“What? Oh god.”
He pushes a finger inside me, long and deep and I tremble in his hands, when he adds another one I let a moan free. I imagine those corded arms working me and my toes curl.
“I wish I could see you, too.”
As much as I love the darkness, I can only imagine what he looks like. Sebastian is a god among men. He’s perfect in every angle, every pose.
Something tells me he’s not looking so perfect right now.
I feel his damp skin, my hands messing with his ever-so-flawless hair. I can hear the dryness in his tone, the want, and the pure animalistic way he says my name.
I wish I could see him losing control.
I grab his cock, tired of being tortured, afraid the moment will pass me by. His growl fuels my intentions and I slowly pump him. He takes his fingers away, I feel my own wetness when he carves into my thighs for levered while angling his cock to my entrance.
He slips inside at an agonizing pace, his arms shake, and I catch myself before I moan too loudly.
And then I hear it.
Steps through the house, quiet wishes of good morning of the half-asleep crew.
I gasp, but he covers my mouth with his hand. I stay frozen, my eyes closing in fear as I hear my colleagues start their day, not far from thedoorlesspantry where I stand naked.
Sebastian’s hand on my ass grips to the point of pain. His mouth descends to the shell of my ear and his voice is so low I mostly feel the vibrations on my skin.
“Are you going to be quiet?”
I should say no.
I can’t be quiet. I can’t be still. I want to scream, moan, and move around. I want to fall apart in his arms.
But I nod my head quickly, his hand still over my mouth knowing my promise means nothing.