His lips curve upward, his smile indulgent, pleased. "You won't have to do that, killer," he says, amusement in his tone. "I'll never stray from you, never want anyone but you. Once I claim you, it's for good, little owl. Your touch is the only one I want."
"Then let me touch you!" I cry out, reaching for him.
"No." He catches my hands in one of his, holding me easily. "Not until I eat you, otherwise this will be over before it begins. I'm already on edge just from touching this gorgeous body. Jesus, you have no idea how fucking hard you make my cock, do you?"
I want to tell him yes because I can feel how hard he is, but all that emerges from between my lips is another needy sob. I think I'm going to burst into tiny pieces if he doesn't do something to relieve the ache soon. It hurts. Everywhere. Everywhere.
He releases my hands, wrapping his around my hips to pull me closer to him. He nudges my legs apart, settling his body between them. I'm not sure how I'm supposed to feel about him staring at me down there, but it just makes me even hotter, even more achy and desperate. Especially when he grits out a curse and his whole body trembles. His hands dig into my hips hard enough to leave marks.
"Sebastian!" I shout, shocked when he releases one of my hips to spread my lower lips open. Before I can even process that, he growls again and then buries his face between my thighs. His tongue presses against me as he licks me from bottom to top in one long swipe.
A guttural groan echoes around the room, followed by another curse. He attacks my center then, eating me like he's dying of starvation and I'm a whole meal. He holds me open with two fingers, kissing my sex like he does my mouth. It's wet, sloppy, dirty as hell. It's also blissful, perfect heaven. Savage jolts of pleasure stab into me, leaving me crying out his name, lifting my hips to get closer. I'm so wet and he's so good with his mouth. Filthy sounds rip through the room. I love them. I love what he's doing to me.
Oh my gosh. I didn't know it was possible for that to feel this good.
"That's right, Paradise," he growls. "Grind that pussy all over my mouth. Take what you want from me. Use me to get you there, baby. Fuck, you taste so goddamn good."
I wrap my hands in his hair, unable to do anything except follow his orders. I hold him to me, working my hips against his mouth, using him to get myself off. He licks and sucks and bites me, seemingly enjoying every second of it. His nose grinds against my clit as he thrusts his tongue into me, trying to get it deep, deep, growling the whole time.
The coil inside cinches tighter, tighter, tighter.
"Sebastian!" I wail as it snaps, flinging me headfirst into bliss. I ride his face from below, wailing his name until my throat hurts and my lungs feel like they're going to explode. I can't stop. Oh my God. He's turned me into a mindless, sex-starved crazy person. Bliss blasts through me again and again, until I feel like my heart is going to explode out of my chest and my entire body overheats.
I fall limp beneath him, sucking in air in painful gasps. It hurts and feels good, is terrifying and beautiful all at the same time.
"Good girl," Sebastian murmurs, his voice guttural with need, yet full of satisfaction. "Mm. You look so good when you're coming for me, Rowan. So good. God, baby. You're so effortlessly sexy. It's incredible." His praise calls to me in the dark where I float, keeps me grounded, and helps me find my way back to him.
When I finally manage to peel my eyes open, he's hovering over me, stroking his hands up and down my sides, touching my face. His eyes are on fire with a combination of need and satisfaction that has my blood heating in my veins all over again. That's all right though. For him, I'll gladly burn. Over and over again.
"Sebastian," I whisper, reaching up to touch his lips. "I need you."
"You have me, Paradise," he whispers back, voice somber, serious. "I think you've had me since the second I set eyes on you, little owl. Now I get to make you mine."
I'm pretty sure I'm already that, but before I can say it, he leans down to kiss me. I taste myself on his lips and part of me loves it, loves the way we're all mixed up together in that kiss, him and me and lips and tongues and tastes.
"I'm not wearing a condom," he warns me. "When I'm in you, I won't have anything between us. It'll be just you and me, little owl. The way we're meant to be."
I should tell him no, demand a condom…but I don't want that. I want him bare inside me too, want all of him. But… "What if I get pregnant?"
He dips his head, putting his lips right up against my ear. "Then everyone will know you let your boss between your thighs and I fucked you right the first time, Rowan. I hope I do get you pregnant so they all know."
Oh, jeez. I'm pretty sure he means that. I'm also pretty sure I'm okay with that. The thought of having this man's child…my God, I don't think I've ever wanted anything more than I want to make a baby that's a little bit of him and a little bit of me.
He moves between my thighs, lifting one leg up over his hip to open me up to him. His cock nudges against my clit, causing me to arch upward as another little jolt of pleasure goes through me. And I marvel at that, at how I can be so completely sated in one way, yet still so very greedy in another. I don't think I've ever felt such an incredibly perfect dichotomy before.
I already know I never will again. Not unless it's with him. No one and nothing else could ever possibly compare. He's not even inside me yet, and he's already ruined me for all other men. I love it so much.
He holds my gaze as he notches himself at my entrance. The powerful emotion in his eyes keeps me captive as he pushes inside me, little by little. There's so much emotion there, overflowing like stars in the midnight sky. My body stretches around him, giving way slowly. He grits his teeth, hissing as he fights to get inside me.
"Fucking hell, you're tight, Paradise," he groans. "Your little cunt is going to make me work for every inch, isn't it?"
It's probably not a bad thing that part of me is making him work for it. The rest of me is hurtling toward love, full speed head. No stopping, no slowing. It's terrifying and yet not. I think maybe I have been waiting for him my entire life, because I feel alive in a way I never have before, settled in a way I never have before.
The stretch starts to burn as he pushes deeper. The burn rises in intensity, causing me to whimper and dig my nails into his arms. He grits out a curse and snaps his hips forward. My hymen tears in two. I try not to let him see how much it hurts, but tears well in my eyes and I whimper again, my body going rigid beneath his.
"I'm sorry, little owl," he groans, regret heavy in his voice and in the shadows in his eyes. He holds himself still, dipping his head to press regretful kisses to my eyes, my cheeks, my nose…everywhere he can reach. "The pain will be over soon. Just breathe through it for me, baby. I promise, I'll make it so good for you."
"Kiss me. Please."
He does so immediately, without reservation. For long moments, his mouth works with mine, his kiss gentle at first and then harder, deeper. Our tongues dance together and then break apart. He lets me play at controlling the kiss, but only for a moment before he wrests it away again, possessing my mouth like it's his. Not that I'm complaining. He kisses like no one else.
Within moments, the pain is gone and I'm wiggling beneath him, desire climbing toward a fever pitch. I try to move beneath him, but he has me pinned to the bed with his hips, refusing to let me budge.
"Please," I gasp, breaking away from his mouth. "Please move. I need you."