Page 131 of Bid For Me
“Seb,” I stammer, scrambling to retrieve the book. “I–I didn’t hear you come in. I thought you were busy with work.”
He strides into the room, slow and deliberate, plucking the book from my hands before I can close it. His eyes skim the page, his eyebrows arching slightly, and when he looks at me, his smirk is pure wickedness.
“Quite the scene,” he murmurs, snapping the book shut and holding it out to me. “Why don’t you read it to me?”
My mouth falls open, words failing me as heat rushes to my face. “What? No?—”
“Read it, Elle.” His voice is firm, that commanding edge that makes my pulse spike and my resistance crumble. “Out loud.”
I hesitate, my heart pounding, but the challenge in his gaze leaves no room for argument. Taking a deep breath, I open the book and find the spot where I left off.
My voice is unsteady at first, but I push through, the words tumbling out in a nervous rush. Seb settles into the armchair opposite mine, watching me with an intensity that makes me squirm.
His gaze grows darker as I read, my voice soft but rising as the scene crescendos. Then he moves, stalking toward me with the kind of deliberate grace that makes my breath hitch.
“Don’t stop,” he orders, sinking to his knees in front of me.
I try to keep reading as his hands slide up my thighs, pushing my legs apart. His fingers hook into the hem of my shirt – his shirt – and tug it higher, exposing me.
“Seb,” I whisper, my voice faltering.
“Read,” he commands, his lips brushing the inside of my thigh.
I force myself to continue, stumbling over the words as his hands tease the heat between my legs, his fingers tracing over me, but never giving me what I need.
As the heroine in the story is claimed in ways that make me ache, Seb mirrors the scene, his hands and mouth driving me to the brink of madness. I cling to the book, my voice tremblingas he pushes me closer and closer to release – only to stop the moment I’m about to shatter.
“Please,” I beg, tears spilling down my cheeks as he denies me over and over.
He cups my face, his thumb brushing away a tear as he gazes at me with dark, possessive eyes. “Do you trust me, Elle?”
“Yes,” I whisper, desperate and trembling. “You never need to ask.”
He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a stunning diamond necklace. I frown. It’s beautiful. My breath catches as he holds it up.
It’s not a necklace. It’s a collar.
I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry.
“I want you to wear this,” he says softly. “To let me claim you – not just in this moment, but always.”
My heart is pounding, my body alight with need, but I know the weight of his words. This isn’t just about sex – it’s about trust, surrender, and belonging.
“Yes,” I say, my voice breaking with emotion. “Yes, Seb.”
His smile is pure satisfaction as he clasps the collar around my neck, the cool metal a stark contrast to the heat coursing through me.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, his hands sliding down to grip my hips as he pulls me to the edge of the chair and kisses me until I’m breathless.
Pushing my panties aside, he thrusts his fingers deep into my core, hitting that spot that drives me insane, just as his other hand pinches my clit.
“Now come for me.”
The release is instant and overwhelming, crashing over me in waves that leave me gasping and trembling. Seb doesn’t give me a moment to recover before he’s inside me, his movements rough and possessive, claiming me in every way.
Still seated deep inside me, he lifts me up, my legs wrapping around his waist and my arms going to his shoulders for balance. He slams me against the nearest bookshelf, kissing me like a man possessed while he fucks up into me like an animal.
Books tumble from the shelves as he drives me higher, my cries mingling with his low, guttural groans.