Chapter 145
Lirael
"I'm suggesting," he interrupted smoothly, his thumb resuming its maddening circles against my jaw, "that if you want something from me, you should be prepared to offer something in return. Give and take. Mutual benefit."
"That's blackmail," I said flatly, even as my treacherous body leaned into his touch.
"It's courting," he corrected, satisfaction bleeding into his voice. "Traditional wolf courting. You want daily updates? Then you give me something I want in exchange."
"And what exactly do you want?" I asked, my voice coming out breathier than I'd intended.
His smile turned wolfish, all sharp edges and dangerous promise. "Simple. For every update you want, you give me a kiss. One question, one kiss. Fair trade, don't you think?"
My breath caught. Heat flooded my cheeks as the implications sank in. "That's not fair at all. That's—"
"Perfectly reasonable," he finished, his hand sliding from my jaw to cup the back of my neck, fingers tangling in my hair with possessive intent. "You get what you want. I get what I want. Everyone wins."
"And if I refuse?" I challenged, even though we both knew I wouldn't. Couldn't.
His expression darkened, but there was something almost playful in it. "Then I'll have Marcus delete all the monitoring footage. Every camera feed. Every medical report. You'll get nothing."
"You wouldn't." But even as I said it, I knew he absolutely would.
"Try me," he murmured, and the challenge in his tone made my pulse spike with something that definitely wasn't fear. "Or you could just agree to my terms. One kiss per update. Starting now."
I stared up at him, torn between outrage at his manipulation and grudging admiration for his tactics. He'd found the one thing I couldn't refuse, and he was using it without an ounce of shame. It should have made me furious.
Instead, I found myself rising onto my toes, my hands coming up to rest against his chest. I could feel his heart beating beneath my palms, strong and steady. "Fine," I said, tilting my face toward his with deliberate intent. "One kiss. But that's all you're getting."
"We'll see," he murmured, and the promise in those words sent a thrill down my spine.
I leaned in slowly, giving him time to close the distance if he wanted to take control. But Sebastian surprised me—he held perfectly still, letting me set the pace. The anticipation built between us like static electricity, making the air feel charged and heavy.
When my lips finally brushed against his, it was tentative. Careful. A brief press of warmth that lasted maybe two seconds before I started to pull back, thinking that would satisfy our bargain.
I should have known better.
Sebastian's hand tightened in my hair, not painfully but with unmistakable intent. His other hand slid down to grip my waist, and then he was hauling me flush against him as he deepened the kiss with devastating thoroughness.
Not gentle. Not careful. This was Sebastian unfiltered—all raw hunger and possessive claim. His mouth moved against mine with practiced skill, coaxing my lips apart until I gasped. He took immediate advantage, his tongue sliding against mine in a way that made my knees go weak.
I made a small sound in the back of my throat—protest or encouragement, I couldn't tell—and felt him respond with a low growl that vibrated through both our bodies. My hands, which had been resting passively against his chest, suddenly fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer even as some distant part of my brain screamed that this was dangerous, that I was losing control.
But god, he tasted good. Like dark chocolate and something uniquely him, addictive and intoxicating. The kiss spiraled from controlled to desperate in seconds, his fingers tangling tighter in my hair as he angled my head for better access. I rose higher on my toes, arching into him, and felt the hard planes of his body against every soft curve of mine.
Heat bloomed everywhere we touched. My skin felt too tight, too sensitive, and when his hand slid from my waist to the small of my back, pressing me impossibly closer, I actually whimpered into his mouth.
The sound seemed to snap something in him. He backed me up against the observation console, caging me in with his body as he kissed me like he was trying to devour me whole. One of his hands remained tangled in my hair while the other traced the curve of my spine, leaving trails of fire in its wake.
I should have pushed him away. Should have remembered that we were in a semi-public space where Marcus or one of the medical staff could walk in at any moment. Should have maintained some semblance of dignity.
Instead, I found myself kissing him back with equal fervor, my fingers leaving his shirt to slide up into his hair, tugging just hard enough to make him groan against my mouth. The sound sent a bolt of pure want straight through me, pooling low in my belly and making my thighs clench.
When we finally broke apart—more from lack of oxygen than any real desire to stop—I was trembling. Sebastian's forehead dropped to rest against mine, both of us breathing hard, his hands still gripping me like he was afraid I might disappear if he let go.
"That," I managed between gasps, my voice coming out husky and wrecked, "was more than one kiss."
His laugh was low and rough, more breath than sound. "You're the one who kept kissing back, little moon. I was just following your lead."
"Liar," I accused, but there was no heat in it. My lips felt swollen and tender, and when I caught sight of our reflection in the darkened observation window, I saw that my hair was a mess and my cheeks were flushed bright pink.
Sebastian looked equally disheveled, his normally perfect hair mussed from my fingers, his pupils blown wide with desire. But there was something else in his expression too—satisfaction, yes, but also a kind of wonder, as if he couldn't quite believe what had just happened.
"So," he said after a moment, his thumb tracing my lower lip with devastating gentleness. "About those daily updates..."
I laughed despite myself, the sound breathless and slightly hysterical. "You're impossible."
"I'm negotiating," he corrected, but his smile had gone soft around the edges. "And you still haven't given me an answer. Do we have a deal?"
I should have said no. Should have found some other way to get the information I needed. But looking up at him—at this impossible, infuriating man who'd turned his entire world upside down for me—I found I didn't want to.
"One kiss per update," I agreed, watching his eyes light up with triumph. "But I get to decide when and where. And if you ever try to blackmail me like this again—"
"You'll make me regret it," he finished, and the promise in his voice made it clear he was absolutely looking forward to that. "I wouldn't expect anything less."