Page 60 of When We Ignite
I wrapped my arms around his neck, his lips brushing just below my ear. A shiver ran down my spine.
“I promise I’ll take such good care of you, Ethan. Just let me.”
Breathing deeply, I relaxed into his embrace, his words melting away my doubts.
He kissed my jaw, his hands sliding under my shirt and moving up my back. His touch sent a surge of heat through me, and I tightened my hold on him.
“Ash,” I breathed.
“Tell me what you want me to do,” he said, his voice laced with anticipation. “Look at me.”
Our eyes locked.
“Kiss me,” I said, my voice barely audible.
His lips curved into a triumphant smile. “Good boy,” he murmured again before leaning in and pressing his mouth to mine.
God, it was electric.
I inhaled sharply, every nerve overstimulated by that tiny touch. As the pressure deepened, Sebastian hummed against me, seemingly satisfied.
His fingers tangled in my hair, anchoring me as his lips moved over mine, careful and claiming.
He pulled back just enough to leave me breathless before returning. His lips were parted, impossibly soft, and his warm breath brushed against my skin as I tilted my head to give him more access. He didn’t hesitate, his tongue grazing the edge of my lips, seeking permission.
I kissed him again, parting my lips fully, meeting him halfway. Sebastian tasted of cigarettes and whiskey—a potent, intoxicating mix that overwhelmed my senses. This shouldn’t have felt as good as it did. Maybe it was the buildup, the forbidden allure, or justhim. Whatever the reason, this kiss outshone anything I’d ever known.
It wasn’t just on my lips. I felt it everywhere—an electric current coursing through my body. His stubble scraped lightly against my skin, the roughness a perfect counterpoint to the softness of his lips.
When he pulled back again, I nearly groaned at the loss.
“Did you like that?” he asked, his voice low, gravelly, and devastatingly confident.
“Yes.”
“Do you want me to keep going?”
I nodded, unable to form words.
Somewhere along the way, my hands had abandoned his neck, instead gripping the collar of his shirt. I tugged him back toward me, and he didn’t resist, reclaiming my mouth with even more purpose. His kisses were calculated but passionate, and he set the pace, one I was more than willing to match.
Sebastian pulled on my hair, tilting my head just enough to deepen the kiss. He was good at this—too good. What I’d thought was arrogance was nothing of the sort. This was pure, unshakable confidence born from experience. With Sebastian, every move was a master class in control and restraint.
I surrendered to him completely, moving closer and threading my fingers through his locks. As his pace quickened, so did mine, the intensity building between us. I tightened my grip, needing to hold on to him as his hands roamed my back, pressing me impossibly close.
Then, suddenly, he broke away, resting his forehead against mine.
“Slow down,” he whispered, his breath ragged. His eyes remained closed, his expression unguarded. I had never seen him like this—overwhelmed.
“I’m just following you,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
His eyes opened, their intensity unmatched. “I was talking to both of us,” he admitted with a small, self-deprecating smile.
Before I could respond, he kissed me again, and I melted into him. This time, the kiss was softer and drawn out. A low groan escaped his lips, sending a thrill through me.
“Why are you so good at this?” he murmured, his brows lifting in what looked like genuine surprise.
“Me?” I echoed, incredulous.
