Page 86 of Blood and Thorns
Sebastian turned frantic, his movements savage. As he released my hair, I sagged forward, the sharp threads of the carpet rubbing against my breasts with every thrust.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
He was drawing out the pleasure, his free hand reaching around to brush my clit in a way that was the opposite of how he fucked me. He was gentle but rough. Soft yet violent.
I finally felt his cock stiffen, swelling as he groaned, and that alone had me coming once more, clenching to keep him locked to me for just a little bit longer.
Chapter 38
Sebastian
I didn’t get addicted. I’ve seen what it could do, that sickness. The obsession over your next fix. Nothing else mattered, which was why I never fucked the same girl twice or allowed myself to taste the cocaine.
But Arabella was different. A poison injected directly into my bloodstream, and I couldn’t wait to take another hit.
I had planned to toss her away once I’d grown bored and then track down her father because he still needed to pay. But she’d somehow brought me back from the abyss,again, her sunshine and light in the most dire situations calling to my demons.
Hunting had been euphoric, stalking her through the darkness only for her to fight and then submit so beautifully. She’d been scared of the knife, and yet when I touched the sharp edge to her skin she’d moaned, her cunt pulsating.
Greedy. Perfect.Mine.
Her weight was sleight in my arms, her head resting against my shoulder as I walked her towards her room. I knew I should simply put her to bed and leave so I could figure out my next step. But I found I didn’t want to go, not yet.
Things were happening outside my control, but with Arabella she was a constant. Something that anchored me when everything else was fracturing.
Setting her down on her sheets, I ached to touch her. To rouse her from her sleep just so I could watch her shatter around me again. Hear her cries of pleasure and unrestrained moans.
She’d pretty much passed out once I’d finished with her, her skin decorated in my marks. Covering her in my shirt, I’d carried her to the car where Chip drove us both back to the penthouse. I snarled at him, as well as the guards trailing me, warning them that if they dared to look at her in this state, I’d kill them.
The bed dipped as I put my knee on it, and her eyes fluttered open.
I expected panic, or even fear. Not a lazy blink and a slight frown.
She sat up in bed, and my eyes dipped down to where her pussy was still pink, swollen, and had the biggest urge to make sure all my come remained inside.Fuck.I imagined her swelling with my child, and this strange possessiveness shot down my spine.
“Were you just watching me?” she asked, peering at the room.
She really was cute while freshly fucked, wearing my shirt and a little dishevelled.
“You talk in your sleep,” I commented, just because I wanted to see colour flush her cheeks.
I was rewarded with exactly what I’d wanted. “I do not.”
I smiled, unable to stop my lips curving. “You do. You whisper and moan my name.”
Arabella jerked up further in bed. “I do fucking not.”
She did, and the first time I’d heard it I thought I wasmanifesting. But she did talk in her sleep, which was why I liked to come listen. Her voice was calming, soft and lyrical with just the perfect amount of husky bite.
“Do you need me to read?” she asked, as if reading my mind.
I raised a brow in question.
“You always ask me to read when you’re in a mood.” She pulled the sheets to cover her lower half, and I had to clench my fist to not rip it from her.
I stilled, my eyes clashing with hers. “You’re not here to notice my moods, you’re here to be a warm, wet hole,” I said, delivering the statement cold. “That’s what you agreed to, wasn’t it?”
An angry flush burned across her chest, and her eyes narrowed on me.
