Page 55 of Taken Off Camera
Sebastian falls back on the bed, his expression devastated, fingers trembling as they hover over me. “You must hate me. We never discussed this. I had no right to?—”
“Alpha.” I crawl up his body to straddle his waist, my Heat still riding me hard. “I need more.”
“But—”
I silence his apologies with my mouth as I sink back down on his cock.
He groans, his hands gentler now when they grip my hips. “It’s okay. Take what you need.”
I wrap my arms around his shoulders, nuzzling his neck as my hips move, trying to slake my thirst. “My Alpha.”
He was always going to be mine, so I don’t regret that it happened this way.
I try to tell him as much, but the fever of Heat clouds my thoughts.
Later. We’ll talk about it later.
The next three days blur together in a haze of pleasure and connection. Sebastian leaves the bed only to bring me water and food, coaxing me to eat between bouts of desperate coupling. My body burns for him continuously, my Heat intensified by the fresh bond between us.
He bathes me in the shower when I can’t stand on my own, water sluicing over our joined bodies as he takes me again. He feeds me morsels of fruit from his fingers, kissing the juice from my lips. He changes the soaked sheets while I lean against him, unable to support my own weight.
When exhaustion claims us both, he clutches me to his chest, holding me tight as if I might disappear. I fall asleep to the steady rhythm of his heart, secure in the knowledge that I’m protected, claimed, and cherished.
On the fourth morning, I wake to silence. The burning fever of my Heat has broken, leaving my body sore but satisfied.
My hand reaches for Sebastian, seeking his warmth, and finds only empty, cold sheets where he should be.
I sit up, confusion cutting through the fog of sleep. “Sebastian?”
No answer comes. The apartment feels hollow somehow. I wrap the sheet around my naked body and pad through the rooms on unsteady legs.
The bathroom stands empty, no steam on the mirror, no damp towels on the rack. The kitchen shows no signs of breakfast preparation. Sebastian’s clothes, which had been scattered across my floor in our haste, are gone.
I return to the bedroom, sinking onto the mattress as understanding dawns.
Sebastian abandoned me.
15
The empty icon showing that Sebastian is logged out of the security system stares back at me, devoid of my Alpha’s ever-watchful presence.
I refresh the app for the twentieth time this hour, but Sebastian remains offline, each camera showing the disarray my apartment has fallen into over the past five days.
I snatch up my phone, my fingers trembling as I type yet another text.
Micah
Please answer me.
At least let me knowthat you’re alive.
The message sits beneath a wall of blue bubbles, each one sent into a void of no replies.
My phone screen dims, and I toss it onto the couch cushion beside me, where it sinks into the nest of unwashed blankets and discarded hoodies I’ve been rotating through.
The Mark on my neck pulses with phantom heat, and my hand lifts to touch the smooth ring of skin before I can stop myself. I didn’t consent to it, but I would have. The plan had always been to let Sebastian Mark me during my Heat.
But not like this. Not with him bolting the morning after, leaving nothing but a handwritten apology on my nightstand.
