Sebastian’s demand of reciprocity hangs over my head, which makes entering and leaving my studio an anxiety-inducing challenge. A few doors down from where he paints for the public, I scurry in and out of my own space, my breath catching in my lungs every time until I make it behind closed doors.
Because the thought of him catching me in-transit, one of his sexy clients at his side, makes me physically ill. I can’t imagine going down on him while a gorgeous model witnesses my humiliation.
I don’t want any humiliation at all. I want my first experience of putting my mouth on Sebastian to be as mind blowing for me as I hope it will be for him. I imagine his hands in my hair as I take him between my lips, his faded jeans unzipped and pushed to his thighs, and my knees aching—because of course that’s how he’ll want me. The mental picture shouldn’t get me so worked up, but it does.
Until the vision of Liam intrudes on the fantasy, and I fret over the possibility of running into both of them simultaneously. What a disastrous crash that would be.
And that’s why, a few days after Sebastian rocked my world in my studio, I decide to take control of the situation. With Landon and Elise returning tomorrow, I need to do something about Sebastian’s insane demand. Though demand isn’t the right word for it, because he didn’t issue an actual order. The command was apparent in his tone.
I set aside my sketchbook, unable to concentrate on my latest design—a summer formal incorporating a feathery pattern down the flowing A-line skirt. The sun set minutes ago, casting the sky in hues of blush rose and burgundy. Nighttime shadows creep into the corners of my sitting room, and I realize how much time I’ve wasted since the kitchen staff brought me dinner. I’ve been sitting in my window seat ever since, plagued with a lack of focus thanks to Sebastian.
Nervous flutters dance in my belly as I head into my bedroom and enter the adjacent wardrobe room. I’m not just going to take control of the situation.
I’m going to render him incoherent while I fall at his feet.
This crazy, spontaneous idea might be the only way to break past his defenses while distracting him from his cruel plan of humiliation by way of public indecency.
Desperate times and all of that.
Reaching into the bottom drawer of the tall lingerie chest tucked next to my collection of Louis Vuitton shoes, I pull out a teal lace teddy featuring a thong-cut back. I picked it up on my trip to the island’s boutiques during my first month here. The purchase was an impulse buy encouraged by Faye.
Now I’m going to use it as a weapon.
Leaving my hair flowing freely, I touch up my lip gloss and powder my face, then I leave the privacy of my quarters. Only a knee-length jacket conceals the risqué ensemble hugging my body like a second skin. The black stiletto heels on my feet announce my presence in the hall, and I cross my fingers no one else is taking a trip on the elevator.
Luck’s in my favor for once, but as I travel two floors down, my knees wobble. They threaten to give out when the elevator doors slide open, revealing the entryway to the House of Leo. I force my feet forward and approach those intimidating double doors.
The zodiac symbol for Leo greets me, the design etched in gold detail as the divide of doors slices it down the middle. The lion fits Sebastian like the lace on my skin; beautiful in simplicity but lethal with sensual power. I imagine him standing in front of an easel, wearing nothing but low-slung jeans and paint spatter, creating his magic with the fire and passion I’ve come to associate with him.
My fingers inch toward the doorbell, but fear grips my throat, and I falter. This is a bad idea. What was I thinking in coming here, dressed like this? What if he sends me away, his mouth forming that infamous scowl of his? He’ll see right through my trick and mock me for my attempt to take control of the situation.
He’ll say it doesn’t count.
I probably won’t get past the threshold.
My feet are already in retreat-mode, literally shaking in my heels, and that’s when a stubborn voice shouts through my mind that I’m not the meek, innocent girl I was when I first arrived on the island. The last two months have changed me, the cruelty of the Brotherhood dragging me, kicking and screaming, from the young girl I was into the woman I am now.
A woman that, in this moment, knows exactly what she wants.
I want the lion’s surrender, and it won’t happen if I keep playing defense. It’s time to take the offense and seize the power the men in this tower stole from me.
Bypassing the doorbell, I try the handle and push the door open before I change my mind, because there’s no better way to go on the offensive than catching someone off guard.
I want to catch Sebastian Stone so off guard that he falls on his egotistical ass.
My heartbeat drums in my chest as the empty foyer stands before me. Not wanting to announce my presence, I slip off my heels before stepping further into his domain, footsteps careful and quiet as the uncharacteristic act of breaking in roars in my ears.
And maybe that’s why I don’t hear it until it’s too late. The clink of ice cubes against glass, the patter of leather soles on the floor, the scrape of chairs.
And the familiar authoritative tone of the chancellor.
All of it registers just seconds after I set eyes on the group of men conversing in Sebastian’s main living space. He’s front and center, amusement quirking his lips as he pins me to the spot with his hypnotic stare. That same voice that sent me in here, empowered with blind bravado, now screams at me to flee before his guests turn around and find me on the verge of the room, frozen into a pillar.
Like the foolish woman in the Bible who ignored the warning and suffered the consequences.
Panic takes hold, and I break free, about to turn back the way I came, when Liam cranes his neck and spots me. “What are you doing here?” There’s no question of the shock in his expression, followed by the slow descent of angry suspicion that tightens his mouth. The other man also looks over his shoulder, a spectator to the drama unfolding, and I recognize him by his blond ponytail.
Vance. The doctor. The man I’ll spend the next month with before the lion ensnares me.
Sebastian grins as he takes me in from my bare feet to the overcoat hiding my lingerie-clad body. “I know why she’s here.”
“I’m s-sorry,” I stutter, feet stumbling back. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I can come back another time.” I turn to flee, but Sebastian’s words kill any chance I have of getting out of here unscathed.
“I have eyes, princess. I see you, and I sure as hell know you see me. Deal’s a deal.”
I whirl, sudden anger taking the lead. “There was no deal.”
He cocks his head. “Wasn’t there?”
“There was only you demanding and me not answering.”
He shakes his head. “I recall you saying something along the lines of…” He snaps his fingers. “That’s right. You said you wanted to taste me.”
Liam stands, his fisted hands disappearing into the pockets of his slacks as he looks between Sebastian and me. “What the hell is going on? What’s he talking about, Novalee?”
“That’s none of your business,” Sebastian answers before I can get a word off my tongue. “You can either stick around for the show, or cut your losses and leave.” He gestures toward the foyer behind me. “But if you do, you can forget talks of negotiation.”
“Forget it,” I tell Sebastian, seething. “I won’t play your games.”
“You’ve been playing since we met.”
“As of now, the game is over.” Turning my back on the three of them, I flee Sebastian’s house, gripping my coat as I run for modesty’s sake.
I’m in full flight mode, the trip from his floor to mine passing in a frenzied blur. Part of me fears they’re coming after me.
Sebastian or Liam. Or both.
Barging into the House of Gemini, I make my way toward my suite. Adrenaline rushes through my veins, and I shed my coat and drape it over a Victorian chair on my way to the ottoman at the end of the bed. My legs refuse to support me any longer, and I crumble.
My erratic breaths charge the air. Sweat lingers on my skin from the mad dash to privacy. My breasts heave in the bodice of the teddy.
I want the scant evidence off my body, shoved in the bottom of the dresser where it should have stayed. This failed attempt at seduction rails through me with equal amounts of shame and frustration, because I’m too much of a trembly mess to make it to my feet long enough to remove the offending garment.
Five minutes haven’t passed when I detect the sound of a door opening. I don’t hear it shut, but the footsteps that follow tell me someone is inside Landon’s home, and it sounds like they’re nearing my private quarters.
Another noticeable turn of a door handle confirms my suspicion, and as those footfalls make their way toward my bedroom, where I left the door partially open, I fear I know who it is.
A jean-clad silhouette looms in the doorway, outlined in a halo of light from the lamp in the sitting room. Shadows and heightened emotions settle over my bedroom.
He holds up a pair of stilettos. “You forgot these.”
I can’t speak as he takes a step into the room where I sleep. I wouldn’t know what to say if I tried.
“I had to threaten Liam with a charge of impropriety to keep him from coming in after me.” He drops the shoes by the door. “You’ve got the chancellor wrapped, princess.”
Finally, I find my voice. “How did you get in?”
“Walked in, the same way you did when you barged into my meeting.”
I’m usually better at locking the main door, especially since I’m here alone. Landon doesn’t keep permanent staff on hand, preferring to employ a weekly housekeeper instead. Which means it’s just me at night…on a floor sandwiched between too many men with hidden agendas.
“I’m sorry about tonight.” With a gulp, I find his eyes in the darkness—a blue luminescence from the moonlight spilling through the windows. “I wanted to be brave.”
“Bullshit. You wanted to avoid going down on me around other people.” He closes the distance between us, only stopping when he’s inches away from brushing my knees. “You don’t think I’ve seen you duck in and out of your studio these past few days?”
My eyes widen. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“Because you didn’t see me.” He leans down, propping himself on the mattress behind me, and I veer back to avoid contact with his warm, muscular chest.
Because the very essence of him surrounds me, his arms caging me in, the earthy scent of whatever soap he uses filling my nostrils, the intensity of his gaze as it locks with mine. The air between us is heavy with sexual tension, heady with longing, about to bust through the seams of any lingering resistance.
“But you see me now.” He sends a leisurely glance down my body. “So this is what you were hiding underneath that coat.”
It’s not a question. He saw through me the instant his focus landed on me in his house.
“Do you like it?”
“Princess…there’s not a man alive who wouldn’t.” The space between us narrows. “We have unfinished business,” he says as his mouth heats my own.
“What are you waiting for?”
Further prompting isn’t needed. He pulls his T-shirt off and tosses it on the floor. “Get on your hands and knees.”
I look at the space in front of his feet, confusion furrowing my brows, and he tilts my chin up. “On the bench.”
As he unbuttons his jeans, I settle into the pose he wants. The short legs on the ottoman puts me at the perfect height to take his cock into my mouth. My hair hangs around my face, a frame for his sexual canvas.
I glance up, darting my tongue across my bottom lip.
“Jesus,” he mutters as he pulls down his zipper. “Those lips, Novalee.” Wrapping a hand around his erection, he strokes it from base to tip. His thumb swipes the crown and comes away with the evidence of his desire on the pad of that digit, and he pushes it between my lips.
That first taste of him…
The saltiness on his skin.
A flavor that belongs to Sebastian alone.
It’s decadent sin.
Withdrawing his thumb, he raises my chin with a gentle touch that brings tears to my eyes.
“You’ve never hurt me,” I whisper.
“That’s not true.”
“It is. You’ve been mean, but you’ve never laid a punishing hand on me.”
“Hurting women isn’t my thing, but that doesn’t mean you should mistake me for a nice guy.” Without warning, he pushes his cock between my lips. But the pace he sets is slow, allowing me time to adjust to the hot flesh thrusting against my tongue.
There’s a gentleness to the swivel of his hips that borders on lazy, as if he’s content to slip in and out of my mouth for the rest of the night, his rhythm a steady buildup that leaves me wanting more. He parts his lips, slides his fingers into my hair, combing it back from my face, and his eyes shutter.
He doesn’t speak. Somehow, the absence of words amplifies the charge of sex in the air, heightens the simmering need collecting between my thighs. I can’t stand it anymore, and I whimper around his cock, needing…something.
A reaction.
A crack in the wall he’s constructed around himself.
Those brilliant blue eyes flutter open again, and I pull back the slightest bit, adding more suction, my tongue swirling around the salty crown of him.
He hisses in a breath.
“You want more of this, don’t you?” He follows up the arrogant question with a deeper thrust.
I let out another pleading whimper, and he seats his cock deep, one hand braced on the mattress as he leans over my back. Then he lifts the back of my thong and dips a finger underneath, teasing my anus.
“I want this, Novalee.”
His caress turns into a gentle probe that explores rather than conquers, but I stiffen anyway.
“I could take it now,” he says, going still in my mouth. “Slip right in where it’s so fucking hot and tight.” He applies just enough pressure to make me nervous, despite the touch of that finger shooting rivulets of pleasure to my pussy.
I try to pull back, but his hands spear into my hair again. “Relax.” Holding me in place, he renews the fervor of his pace, and a satisfied grin shapes his mouth as he plunders mine. “You’re not ready for it, but it’ll happen soon.” The promise hangs between us in the space of five deep thrusts. “I made a deal with Vance tonight for your anal virginity. He’s saving it for me.”
My eyes widen, and he laughs. “The chancellor wasn’t happy about that.”
I can imagine Liam’s temper flaring, his lack of control thrown into his face now that he no longer has access to me.
Because Sebastian will never grant it to him.
As he loses himself to the glove of my mouth, his climax only a few noisy thrusts away, I can’t help but wonder if Sebastian wants me because he can’t resist…or am I just a pawn in the rivalry between him and the chancellor?
With a final jerk, he groans, loud and unrestrained as he shoots his seed down my throat. Afterward, still dripping his completion, he yanks me up by the hair until our lips mash together, and the slow lick of his tongue against mine shakes me apart.
I rake my fingers through his hair, my heart pounding from his kiss as my knees weaken on the ottoman.
“The taste of me on your lips…” He groans into my mouth, then breaks away long enough to tug on my lower lip with his teeth. “You have no idea, princess. No fucking clue.”
There’s power in his frustration…if only I knew how to wield it.
“Enlighten me.” I dart my tongue along the seam of his mouth.
He sucks in a breath. “You’re a goddamn temptress.” Stepping back, he takes me by the shoulders, ensuring an arm-length distance. “We’re done here.”
Hurt ricochets through me. “You’re leaving?”
“I got what I came for.” He leaves me kneeling on the bench in my slinky lingerie while he zips up his pants.
Tears threaten, and I blink to hold them back, determined not to cry over him. He’s not worth it. For all of Liam’s flaws—his controlling possessive jealousy—he’d never discard me like this.
With casually cruel detachment.
“Who broke you?” I ask, despising the tremor in my voice.
He freezes, shirt in hand. “The same fucked up institution that’ll break you.”
“I will never break.” I get to my feet. “Not for you. Not for anyone.”
“You say that now.” He pulls the T-shirt over his tousled dark blond hair. “But after a few years, the insidious nature of this place will wear you down.”
“What are you talking about?”
“No one’s told you yet, have they?”
My heart’s pounding too hard, like fists to a punching bag. “Tell me what?”
“You think you’re free after the year’s up? Think again, princess. This is only the beginning.”