And then all bets were off. Edie had flung herself into the eye of the storm and all she could do was hang on.
Sebastio was remorseless. He came down on his knees, pushed her legs apart and buried his face between her legs, sucking and licking at her very core until she was begging for mercy and her legs were shaking.
In the shattering aftermath of her orgasm Sebastio lifted her against the wall and instructed her roughly, ‘Put your legs around my waist.’
Her breath caught as he positioned himself and drove up into her body with such precision and strength that she could only wrap her arms and legs tight around him and rush headlong with him, wherever he was taking her.
It was brutal, the pleasure he wrung from her body before taking his own. That was the only way Edie could describe it. Brutally exquisite. All-encompassing. Shattering.
She was barely aware of him holding her there. His body jerking spasmodically against hers. The warm rush of his release inside her.
Eventually he let her down, but her legs wouldn’t take her weight and so he wrapped her in a towel and carried her to the bed. She had a vague memory of Sebastio whispering something before she fell into a deep dreamless sleep, and she thought it might have been thank you.
* * *
When Edie woke again bright sunlight was streaming in through the bedroom window. The events of the previous night came rushing back. She remembered Sebastio telling her to leave. And then how he’d shuddered in her arms in the shower. The desperation on his face. The scorching hot combustion. And then...oblivion.
She was naked under the covers and she blushed, thinking of what had happened, how intense it had been. How...raw.
And again later, when they’d both woken ravenous for each other. It was as if an immense hunger had been uncovered and would never be sated...
The bed beside her was empty, and Edie looked around the room. In the stark daylight she realised just how bare his bedroom really was. He’d told her his style was pared back. Simple. But this was like a monk’s cell—in total contrast to the rest of the house.
She wondered if there was something more to it than just his style preference. Somehow it felt almost...punishing. Like the way he’d been standing under that cold shower last night.
There was no sound from the bathroom. She was alone. A tiny cold dart scored her heart as she had to acknowledge the fact that Sebastio might have sought comfort from her but he wouldn’t welcome admitting it.
And what had she expected? That he’d be lying here, watching her sleep, waiting for her to wake? That he would want to tell her all the gory details of why he’d had a nightmare? She was no stranger to those—she’d had them for years during her treatment, and she’d certainly never wanted to articulate them to anyone.
She got up and found the sweatpants she’d been wearing before, and the loose shirt that Sebastio had been wearing, pulling them on haphazardly. His scent was on her skin. The scent of them. She didn’t want to wash it off.
She left the room in search of Sebastio, feeling a little nervous at the thought of seeing him again after last night. But she couldn’t dampen the flutter in her belly. The very illicit feeling that they’d shared something the previous night. Something profound.
She finally heard his voice through his study door, deep and authoritative. At the last moment she didn’t knock and go in—she turned and went down to the kitchens.
A half hour later she was climbing back up to the main hall with a tray holding two plates of warm pancakes, maple syrup, crispy bacon and a steaming pot of coffee. Along with two glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice.
She couldn’t stop the goofy smile on her face at the thought of surprising him with breakfast, and was almost across the hall before she noticed that the front door was open and Matteo was stepping inside, stamping his feet and shaking off some snow.
He smiled at Edie. ‘Buon giorno! You survived!’
Edie blinked. The sight of another person was so incongruous that it took her a long moment to realise what was happening. She could hear vehicles outside. Voices. She could see patches of green. The snow was thawing. Had thawed.
For a moment she felt totally disorientated, and then there was another voice. Far more familiar.
Sebastio had come out of his office and was greeting Matteo. Edie realised she was standing in the middle of the grand hall in her bare feet. No make-up. She was wearing Sebastio’s clothes. She was holding a tray of food for lovers. She’d even plucked some ivy leaves from one of her displays and put them in a small vase.
And now Sebastio was turning to look at her, his eyes widening as he took in what she was holding. The way she was dressed. In contrast to Edie he was pristine. Dressed in a suit. Had he known the real world was about to rush back in? Stupidly she felt betrayed.
Before she could mortify herself any more she turned and fled back the way she’d come, almost tripping down the stairs to the kitchen in her haste. She had visions of staff arriving and tipped the food from the plates into a bin, before washing up and getting rid of the evidence of her stupidly misplaced hope...
For what? she castigated herself. Hope that these past couple of days and nights had meant something to Sebastio? When he’d expressly told her that he wasn’t interested in anything?
She heard a noise behind her and tensed.
‘Edie?’