“Good. Me either.” He rolled on top of her, already tugging the soft hem of her t-shirt out of his way, as he captured her earlobe between his teeth. “We have too much lost time to make up for, and you have some serious atoning to do.”
“Atoning?”
“Mmm hmm. I suggest you make me happy before I decide to punish you instead,” he warned, brushing his lips across her throat.
She splayed a slender hand against his chest. The other sought to find purchase in his curls. Pressing her deeper into the mattress, he crushed his mouth against hers, groaning as her sweet, honeyed taste slid across his tongue. A frown threatened when he felt the toll his absence had taken on her delectable body. Her curves were not as soft as they’d once been, and the jut of her hipbones was more pronounced. Pushing the stab of guilt he felt aside, he started to tug the small scrap of lace down her thighs, but impatience and need trumped preserving the delicate garment. Reaching between them, he tore it and surged against her again, eager to feel the silken heat of her skin.
The sweet whimper she released was music to his ears as he rocked into her several times to ease the way before driving inside and burying himself deep. The hot, velvet grip of her body was almost his undoing. Gritting his teeth, he growled, his head shaking in silent refusal as he clung to the last shreds of self-control he could muster. An agonizing eternity crept by as they both lay perfectly still, neither willing to breathe, lest it shatter the moment.
He kept his thrusts deep and steady, restaking his claim with deliberate care. It wasn’t long before she came and her cries filled the room. The shuddering contractions squeezing his cock felt so damn good. Picking up the pace, Sebastian watched the reactions play across her face. He’d never seen anything more beautiful. A fine sheen of sweat coated her lithe body and slightly flushed skin making it glisten in the moonlight, and the ecstasy riding her heavenly features threatened to steal his breath away. He trembled with the urgent need for release but he held back, determined to bring her there again.
Nothing mattered. Not Marx. Not SKALS, not even the endless stretches of time or the exhaustion creeping into his weary muscles. Hours could have passed. Or days. It didn’t matter. Driving into her somehow kept the darkness and poison at bay.
Kissing her deeply, he relished the feel of her body starting to quiver and clench again. A few more plunges sent her over the edge, and she snapped off the mattress, bowing against him with a scream. Sebastian groaned as her already tight walls clamped down with savage force. Surrendering the last bit of his control, he hauled her head back and pounded into her with all he had until he came in an instant of pure shuddering bliss.
Slumping, he rested his forehead on the pillows while goose bumps and a wave of delirious aftershocks continued to ripple across his skin. Taylor panted beneath him, the sound bringing a satisfied smile to his lips. She uttered something. An assurance of love most likely, but as the shadows closed in around him once more, he found himself unable to speak the words anchored in his heart. Past and present warred for a spot in his future. Duty and self both battled for control. In the end, he surrendered to neither and gave into to the mindless escape of sleep instead.
Taylor peered across the table, searching her lover’s face for clues about what he’d been through. Despite the intense passion they’d shared the night before, he remained quiet and withdrawn in the early morning sun. The sculpted ridges of his cheeks seemed more defined, the slight indents framing them deeper, and bruise-like smudges stretched beneath his eyes. He’d said little all morning, offering nothing more than a perfunctory ‘good morning’ and a quiet ‘thank you’ when she’d set his breakfast before him. Now, he was shoving a forkful of eggs around his plate with the kind of detached interest that warned he was a million miles away.
She bit her lip, still hesitant and unsure of where they stood. Of all the things he’d said last night, “I love you” hadn’t been one of them. She swallowed against the lump that thought elicited and twisted the ring on her finger. Had he changed his mind? Was he still contemplating ways to punish her? Was this her punishment?
Sighing, she searched for a way to kill the silence. “Do you want me to make you something else?”
He glanced up, his expression bewildered and startled. Her heart ached as the hard mask quickly slipped back into place, casting his features into stone. All he offered was a subtle shake of his head.
Tears threatened and she pushed her plate away. “I hate it when you get like this, Sebastian. I don’t know what to say, what to do. My stomach is in knots and my fucking heart hurts.” She winced as his head snapped up and tilted to the side, the look in his eyes as questioning as it was blistering over her choice of words. “Are you still mad at me about last night? I didn’t mean to do that. I don’t know what I was thinking, but I swear I didn’t know it was you. Just tell me what to say here, what to do. Honestly? I think I would rather you punish me and get it over with than go on like this all day.”
He flinched, his pale stare narrowing with a disgusted shake of his head. “Eat your breakfast.”
“I’m not hungry anymore.” Refusing to look his way, she pushed away from the table. She no sooner had her plate in her hand when the deceptively civil tone of his voice froze her in place.
“Sit. Down.”
She faltered. The frantic drum of her heart roared in and out in her ears. Maybe honesty wasn’t the best policy. The little bit of food she had managed to choke down resurfaced and burned the back of her throat when she spotted his white-knuckled fists and the resolute clench of his jaw. Her face tingled, the blood draining away, and she mutely slid back into her chair.
Hell was more merciful than the burning condemnation in his eyes. Sebastian glared at her for a long moment before his cheeks hollowed and he gave a curt nod. “Maybe I’ve been too lax with you, Taylor. You asking for a punishment definitely leads me to believe that is the case.”
“I didn’t mean I wanted one,” she whispered, hanging her head.
“Whether that is true or not, I guarantee that is the direction you are heading. You’ve been through a lot and I have been trying my hardest to use a softer hand with you. I am starting to think that was a very serious mistake.”
She felt her face blanch even further. Gripping the sides of her seat, she steadied herself. It took effort, but she finally managed to spit out a response. “No, Sebby. It’s not. I promise.”
“Look at me,” he commanded. He waited until he had her undivided attention before speaking. “Do not mistake my kindness for weakness again. I can and will crack down on you, Taylor. Force my hand, and I will do it twice as hard. Do you understand me?”
Taylor nodded, fighting to push words past the knot of fear in her throat. The sinister gleam she’d seen last night was back in his eye. It was a look that warned the violence was still seething below the surface just waiting to lash out. She shivered. Regardless of her earlier comments, she didn’t have the guts to unleash that kind of release.
“Yes, Sebastian,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, Taylor. Do what is expected of you.”
She nodded, swallowing the lump and fighting back tears.
“If you’re done picking at your breakfast, clear this mess away. You need to eat more. You’ve lost weight. I don’t like it.”
She opened her mouth to tell him how difficult it was to eat when she thought he was dead, but an obedient ‘yes Sebastian’ slipped out instead.
He slid his plate toward her, prompting her to gather the items off the table before he accused her of dawdling or pouting. The sick feeling of dread these moods inspired was returning full force.
“When you’re done get dressed and make a list of what we need. Maybe something at the store will help inspire
your appetite.”
He pushed away from the table. The brisk, confident stride in his departure suited his mood well. It spoke of a man who was dominant, dangerous, and not to be tampered with.
Glancing down, Taylor took in her figure and ran self-conscious hands over her hips. It was the first time he’d ever voiced displeasure about the way she looked and though he hadn’t been mean, the comments still stung. How was she supposed to eat when she’d been worried sick thinking the man she loved was dead? Or when he was sitting across from her with a look in his eyes that warned she was a breath away from landing herself in a world of pain?
She blew a stray wisp of bangs from her eyes and shook her head. Maybe things like that didn’t affect men the same way. Maybe they did. Maybe SKALS just turned its men into unfeeling, autonomic machines. Eat. Sleep. Drink. Torture. Kill. The thought made her dizzy.
As probable as those notions seemed, she refused to accept them as true. There was so much more to Sebastian than what they instilled. He could be incredibly sweet and caring. The past few weeks had been amazing. He’d opened doors and facets of herself she’d never even known existed and, in the process, showed her a different side of himself as well. A side that wasn’t as intense, cold, and cruel, but every bit as in control. Deep down inside him was a man who was capable of emotions, forgiveness, and good. At least there had been. Had Marx somehow changed that?
Taylor closed her eyes and sighed. As warped as it was, as twisted and toxic as their relationship could be, she loved him. They had the potential to be so good together. She had to believe it wasn’t hopeless. It was just a matter of helping him find his way back again. The only question was how.
Sebastian squinted against the intrusive glare of the midmorning sun. After spending days immersed in darkness, the late-April rays were blinding and felt like knives stabbing into his skull. He scanned the grounds in a search for Rupert, still replaying the meal with Taylor in his head. Disappointment weighed on his shoulders. It wasn’t her fault. She’d done what she could. It just wasn’t enough.