- Lily -
he whole thing felt like a dream.
Here I was, weightless in the arms of the man I loved as he carried me through his castle. Could this even be happening? It was hard to believe my senses after so many years of struggling, so many years of feeling alone.
But I couldn’t have imagined the swelling happiness in my chest. It was too bright, too burning, and too new. Yet it was also familiar, though it took me a moment to recall when I’d felt it before.
And then it hit me.
It was the same swell I used to feel walking home from school beside him, the same awe I used to feel when the moonlight found his chiseled features during summer nights down by the lake. It was the same feeling I used to get when he’d slide his hand across the armrest at the movie theatre and find my fingers in the dark.
This was one of those moments, one of those moments so happy I could only hope it would be chosen for the highlights reel in the seconds before I released my final breath someday, another moment when—fingers crossed—Sebastian would be holding my hand.
“This place is gorgeous,” I said, my eyes bouncing from the hardwood floors to the stunning views outside his oversized windows.
“I’m glad you like it,” he said, turning to whisk me through a doorway.
I slid down to the floor when he stopped walking, letting one hand linger on his chest as I looked around. So this is where the magic’s about to happen, I thought, smiling to myself as I took in his bedroom’s relaxing gray color scheme.
“What do you think?”
“It looks so grown up.”
“You sound surprised.”
“Not surprised,” I said. “It’s just not what I expected.”
“Which was what?” he asked, cocking his head. “AC/DC posters and a collection of empty Gatorade bottles?”
I thought of his old room. He was so open then, so alive. And he still was, posters or no posters.
“If I still had all that crap, I wouldn’t be able to pull off my next surprise.”
“More surprises? Seriously?” I brought a hand to my chest. “I’m not sure my heart can take all this excitement.”
“You’ll like this one,” he said, flashing his brows. “Come here.”
I stepped closer to where he was standing beside a wide chest of drawers that was painted to look deliberately worn. I wondered if he’d aged it himself or if he’d gotten outside help. Either way, it was safe to say his great taste extended beyond his choice in clothing.
He nodded towards the dresser.
“What?”
“Open it,” he said, tapping the top drawer.
I squinted at him for a moment before sliding it open. “It’s empty.”
He smiled.
“Is this for me?”
He nodded.
“Sebastian, that’s so sweet.”
“Now, before we continue the tour, I should probably show you how the drawer works in case you’re doing any unpacking when I’m not here.”
I furrowed my brow.
“So let’s take your shirt for example.”
“Oh, I see where you’re going with this.”
He made a gimme gesture.
I raised my arms in the air, and he pulled my shirt off over my head.
“So what you do,” he said, folding it. “Is you put your clothes in here like this.”
He was irresistible when he was pleased with himself.
“The drawer still looks so empty, though,” I said, feigning a frown.
“Your shirt does look lonely now that you mention it,” he said, clearly delighted I was playing along. “Maybe you should put your pants in there to keep it company.”
I kept my eyes on his as I unbuttoned my skinny jeans and slid them down over my hips.
His jaw clenched as his eyes dripped down my body.
“There,” I said, laying my folded jeans inside. “That’s better. Too bad I don’t have an underwear drawer.”
He smiled and slid the second drawer open.
“You’ve thought of everything,” I said, reaching back to unhook my bra.
He swallowed as I lowered it into the drawer. Then he pulled his shirt off and threw it onto the armchair across the room.
I arched an eyebrow.
“That’s where my clothes go,” he said. “Don’t worry. You’ll get the hang of everything.”
I stared at his solid chest, mesmerized by the way his abs flexed with his breath.
“Your underwear just looks out of place now.”
“You think?” I asked, glancing down at it. “I suppose you’re right.” I slid it off and dropped it in the drawer.
He pushed it closed and stepped up to me. “Moving has never been so much fun.”
I leaned towards him, melting when he slid his hands around my hips and squeezed the cheeks of my ass just hard enough to make me gush. Then he scooped me up, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, tightening my grip when I felt the cold button at the top of his jeans against my bundle of nerves.
“I’m ready for my tour of the bed,” I said, hugging him close and trailing my fingertips through his thick hair.
He walked over to the end of his high bed and stopped when the front of his legs hit the edge. Then he raised a knee and climbed onto it so he could lay me down gently.
The bed was soft, and as I sank into the comforter, the smell of his heavenly aftershave rose around me.
“I suppose you’ll want to pick your side,” he said, his broad chest flexing over me.
“What are my choices?”
“There are three, incidentally,” he said, lowering his lips to mine before kissing his way across my cheekbone. “You can have the left side…”
“Or?” I asked, feeling increasingly breathless as his lips moved down my neck.
“Or the top or bottom.”
I laughed. “It’s not a bunk bed.”
He stretched a hand across my chest and kneaded my breast. “It is if you want to sleep on the right.”
I smiled. “How will I ever choose?”
His tongue traced my nipple before he spoke. “I suggest you try out all the options before you make your decision.”
“Do you now?” I asked, my breath hitching as he sucked my nipple into his mouth.
I closed my eyes when he grazed it with his bottom teeth, and a rush of heat shot up the back of my neck.
He slid a hand between my legs, parting my thighs as I ached for his touch.
“It’s nice to fool around in a bed again,” I whispered. “Feels like it’s been too long.”
He curled his fingertips against my wet slit and raised his face to look at me. “That’s what I want you to say about the orgasm I’m about to give you.”
Nervous laughter escaped my throat, and my body tensed in anticipation.
He watched my face as he started working me with his fingers, teasing my swollen bud and probing my wet seam, his eyes dropping to my mouth when my breath grew shallow. And when he slid his thick fingers inside me, my eyelids fluttered as curls of heat rose through my dizzy head.
I moaned when he put pressure on my G-spot, tapping it harder and harder until I couldn’t feel my legs. “Fuck,” I breathed, the pressure building inside me.
His focused expression never strayed from me, and his eyes caught every flinch and jerk of my body as he played me like a piano, his fingers dancing across my keys until chords I’d never heard escaped my throat.
When I felt him shift his weight on the bed and lower his chest between my knees, my whole body pulsed around him, squeezing his fingers so hard his eyes shone with amusement.
I gasped when he pulled his fingers from me and struggled to catch my breath, but he didn’t give me enough time. He was too intent on quenching his thirst for me.
My hips tilted back when he laid his tongue against my slit, my whole body curling towards his warm breath. But he put an end to my squirming by pinning my hips down with his strong hands, making it clear that he planned to get his fill long before he released me.
It was a glorious high, that feeling. Being trapped by him. Feeling mutually possessed by our undeniable attraction to each other.
And his tongue. Oh God, his tongue. I lifted my arms over my head, relinquishing all control so he could have his way with me, so he could whip me into a frenzy. And he did, creating swirls of light and energy inside me that were as intoxicating as they were surreal.
“Sebastian,” I hummed, spurring him on.
He groaned as he slurped my silk, sending vibrations through my clit that rattled all the way up my body until I was as speechless as I was breathless, as lost as I was found.