We spend the next hour on the beach, eating gourmet cheese, fruit, and pieces of fresh baguette accompanied by sweet tea. Stuffed from lunch and lazy from the sun, we relax on the blanket he spread over the warm sand. A portable umbrella provides shade.
With a sigh, I lie on my stomach as Sebastian plays with my blond locks.
“I love your hair.”
“You might have mentioned it a few times,” I tease, glancing over my shoulder.
He trails his fingers down my spine, and the weight of his hand settles on my ass.
“You ready for it to come out?”
The plug has grown uncomfortable, but I’ve been too content to complain. “Yes,” I murmur, closing my eyes in preparation because I’m not sure what to expect. Every day seems to impart new experiences, and most of the time I’m barely able to keep up. The men of the Zodiac Brotherhood are always one step ahead of me.
“Spread your legs.”
Tingles break out between them, and I do as told, my heart thumping overtime with anticipation. Shifting on the blanket, he kneels between the vee of my thighs and lifts the back of my skirt. Then he brushes the hair off my neck, and I feel his lips on my nape as his hand travels to the apex of my sex. Dipping a finger beneath my thong, he groans his approval.
“Have you been this wet the whole time?”
“Y-yes.” I trip over the admission before trying to suck in a full breath. But it’s no use—his touch steals my air, leaving my body heavy with desire, tension spreading to the bottoms of my feet. My toes dig into the sand.
“You’re so…damn…sexy,” he groans between kisses, raining them down my spine. His mouth stalls on my ass cheek, and I stop breathing altogether. As his finger slides through my wetness, rubbing in all the right spots, his warm exhales fan over my backside.
Suddenly, that plug isn’t uncomfortable anymore—it’s an arousing fullness that takes my mind to forbidden places.
“I need you to relax for this.” He pulls on the base of the toy, and I grit my teeth against the tug.
“It’ll come out easier if you let it happen.”
He rubs my clit with steady strokes, and I don’t know whether to moan from pleasure or pain as he withdraws the plug from my ass. An instant later, he dips a finger into my wetness before inching that slick digit into my anus.
His breathing quickens. So does his pace. Sweet tension coils at my center, spirals down my thighs. Every inch of skin blazes to life, tingling from his touch. I grip the blanket, soft cotton and the weight of sand filling my hands.
I’m so close to coming, but I don’t know if he wants me to yet. Truth is, I don’t know where I stand with him. He’s so different from the others—less reserved, reactionary, and sexier than any man has the right to be.
“Sebastian,” I gasp, hips thrusting upward to bring his fingers deeper.
He covers me with the bulk of his hard body, and his teeth tug on my earlobe. “You’re not so innocent now, are you?” he taunts.
“I’m going to…” I squeeze my eyes shut and give in to the inevitable. Two seconds later, I take the plunge, and an intense orgasm seizes my limbs. The climax is more powerful than gravity itself, keeping me trapped in ecstasy under his solid body and the skill of his hands.
And I want more, even as I come down from the last wave.
“I could watch you come for the rest of my life, princess.” His exhales shudder against the damp hair on my nape. Sweat and need drench us both, but we’re just getting started. Intimacy with Sebastian is nothing short of awe-inspiring—a promising realm of existence a singular experience won’t satisfy alone.
Passion with him will be a lifelong mission.
He shifts his weight and rolls me to my back before standing on his knees. “You don’t know how bad I’m aching for you right now.” He adjusts himself in his jeans, and my attention stalls on the huge ridge behind his zipper.
“You put my orgasms on lockdown last month,” I point out, raising an incredulous brow. “Between that and the doctor’s voodoo sex potion, I might have an idea.”
He grins. “Voodoo sex potion?”
“It’s a more accurate name than arousing elixir.”
Showing off just how aroused he is, he tilts his hips, flaunting his erection. Thirty long seconds pass as our eyes lock. I know what he wants—what he’s too proud and stubborn to ask for. And maybe if I weren’t so worked up myself, my climax barely taking the edge off, I could draw it out long enough to make him crack.
But my craving for the taste of him, for the power his desire gives me, prompts me into motion. He doesn’t object as I unzip his jeans. Lowering into a crouching position, I prop myself on hands and knees and slide my mouth over the head of his cock.
He only gives me five seconds before desperation drives him. Both hands gripping my head, he thrusts between my lips with purpose. Pulling back isn’t an option. Teasing him isn’t an option. With a deep-throated groan, he forces his way to a gag-inducing depth.
“Keep sucking me like that.” He isn’t giving me much choice, his grip on my head unrelenting, his claim on my mouth a battle he has no intention of losing.
My lips stretch more with every inch I take, and I draw deep breaths through my nose to calm my racing heartbeat. When I glance up, I catch him staring back, his gaze fierce and arctic in the sunlight.
He’s a masterful contradiction.
Raw vulnerability shrouded in a tough I-don’t-give-a-shit exterior.
A collision of passion and thorns.
Sweet, dominant mercy.
He pulls out and caresses my cheek. “You’re so damn beautiful. I want to paint you this way.”
“On my hands and knees?”
“It’s not the position that’s got me wrapped.” His thumb rubs my wet lips. “It’s the flush of your skin, and those amazing fuck-me eyes.” Holding me by the chin, he leans down and plants his lips on mine. “It’s knowing you’re mine.”
Before I can respond, he rises and pushes his cock into my mouth again. But instead of trapping my head between the strength of his hands, he cradles my cheeks, his fingers sliding into my hair to comb it back from my face, and allows me to bring him to the finish line on my own terms.
I hold his gaze the whole time, my lips gliding over his velvety smooth flesh. His shoulders rise and fall with each erratic breath. Kissable lips part for his sounds of pleasure. At some point, he breaks the visual connection between us and shutters his eyes, tilting his chin toward the sky as my name bleeds off his tongue. Knowing he’s close, I bring him to the back of my throat.
“Jesus,” he gasps as the coil releases. He fists my hair, ensnaring me in his iron grip, and floods my mouth with his climax. Taking a few moments to catch his breath, he dips his head, blond hair falling over his forehead in a way that makes my fingers ache to brush it back. Sweat trickles down his temples.
The silence in the negligible space between us roars louder than the waves crashing onto the shore several yards away. Without a word, he gets to his feet, pulling his zipper up, and begins packing the leftovers of our picnic lunch.
My heart thuds somewhere in my gut, leveling it with a sense of foreboding.
“Did I do something wrong?” I ask, my voice small and shaky as I watch him wrap the glass plug in a linen napkin before stowing it away with the rest of our stuff.
Pushing his damp hair back, he shakes his head, blue eyes a brilliant squint against the sun. “You did everything right.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
One hand lifting my chin, he plants a brief kiss on my lips. “You didn’t do a damn thing wrong. You make me want things I thought I’d never have.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“It’s wigging me out. I didn’t expect this with you.”
“You think I did?”
His mouth tilts into a half smile. “I don’t think anyone prepared you for what I want to do to you tonight.” And with that, he ushers me back to the cottage.