Chapter 152
Lirael
The mirror showed a face flushed and exhausted, lips swollen from his kisses, neck covered—absolutely covered—in marks, and when I looked down, I could see more marks on my breasts, my inner thighs, everywhere he'd put his mouth.
I was still staring in dismay when Sebastian appeared behind me, naked and unashamed, his erection prominent between us as he wrapped his arms around my waist. "Good morning, my mate."
"Don't call me that," I said automatically, trying to ignore the way my body was already responding to his proximity, the way I could feel myself getting wet again despite the soreness. "And don't touch me. I'm not talking to you."
"Why not?" He actually sounded hurt, one hand sliding down to rest possessively over my mound, fingers just barely brushing my still-sensitive clit. "Last night you were very vocal about how much you wanted me to touch you, how good I felt inside you—"
"I never said I love you!" I interrupted desperately, even as my hips shifted into his touch.
He paused, expression shifting to amused and tender. "Yes, you did. Right when you were coming around me for the third time, crying my name—"
The memory hit me and I wanted to disappear. "And you also said," Sebastian continued, clearly enjoying this, his fingers sliding lower to circle my entrance, feeling his seed still inside me, "that you wanted to stay with me forever, that you wanted me to fill you with my pups, that you never wanted me to stop fucking you—"
"I DID NOT!" I practically shouted, trying to squirm away, but his fingers pushed inside, sliding easily through our combined wetness. "You're lying!"
"Am I?" He turned me to face him, gentle amusement in his eyes as he withdrew his fingers and brought them to his mouth, tasting us together. "Because I remember very clearly. Every single word, every sound you made, every time you clenched around me and begged for more."
I slapped my hand over his mouth, burying my face in his chest. "Stop talking. Just stop. Please."
I felt his laughter rumble beneath my cheek, felt his erection press against my stomach, hot and hard. "Alright," he conceded. "I'll stop teasing. For now. But hearing you say those things, feeling you come apart in my arms—it was the best moment of my entire life."
---
When he saw I was genuinely upset, Sebastian's demeanor shifted, teasing fading into something tender as he lifted me onto the counter, stepping between my thighs.
"I'm sorry," he said sincerely, hands stroking my thighs soothingly even as his thumbs brushed dangerously close to where I was already wet again. "I shouldn't tease you about it."
He reached for my toothbrush, squeezing toothpaste with careful attention. "Here. Brush your teeth while I run you a bath."
When he turned back, his expression was carefully neutral, almost hesitant, though his erection hadn't subsided at all. "Do you want me to help? I promise I'll behave. But if you'd rather do it yourself, I'll leave."
I looked at him and saw genuine concern despite his obvious arousal. "You can help," I heard myself say. "But if you try anything, I'm locking you out for a week."
"Deal," he said immediately, though I saw his eyes darken with heat.
---
The bath was exactly what I needed, though Sebastian's version of "helping" involved his hands sliding over every inch of my body, ostensibly washing me but really just touching, exploring, relearning every curve and hollow. His touch remained mostly professional despite the way I could see his jaw clenching with restraint, despite the way his erection bobbed in the water whenever I shifted.
When his fingers brushed between my thighs, I gasped, still sensitive, and he paused. "Does it hurt?"
"A little," I admitted. "You were... thorough."
"I'll be gentler next time," he promised, though his fingers continued their gentle exploration, carefully avoiding my oversensitized clit but stroking everywhere else. "I'll take my time, make sure you're ready, make it so good for you that the only thing you feel is pleasure."
"Sebastian," I warned, but my voice came out breathy, my thighs falling open despite my best intentions.
"Just washing you," he said innocently, though one finger slid inside me, gentle and careful, and I could feel myself clenching around him. "Making sure you're clean."
When he finally wrapped me in a towel and lifted me out, I felt cared for but also desperately aroused, my body confused by the mixture of soreness and renewed desire.
"Thank you," I said quietly. "For taking care of me."
He pressed a kiss to my forehead, though I could feel him hard against my stomach. "Always. For as long as you'll let me."
I looked up at him and saw the raw vulnerability, the genuine fear that I might reject him. "Sebastian," I said, reaching up to cup his face. "Do you really love me?"
"Yes," he said without hesitation. "I love you more than anything. You're it for me, Lira. The only one I'll ever want, the only one I'll ever be inside."
Something in my chest cracked, some last wall crumbling. "I love you too," I whispered, watching his eyes widen. "I don't know when it happened, but I do. I love you, Sebastian Blackwood, and it terrifies me."
For a moment he just stared, then he was pulling me against him, lifting me right out of the towel, my legs wrapping around his waist as he carried me back to bed. "Say it again," he demanded, voice rough. "Please, Lira."
"I love you," I repeated, and this time it felt less like surrender and more like choice, even as I felt him position himself at my entrance. "Even though you're impossible and possessive and drive me insane—I love you."
He laughed, pure joy, and pushed inside me in one smooth thrust, both of us gasping at the sensation despite the soreness, despite how many times we'd already done this. "You love me," he kept repeating, wonder in his voice as he began to move. "You actually love me."
"I mean it," I confirmed, meeting his thrusts despite the ache, because this felt right, felt like coming home. "Now make love to me properly this time. Show me how much you love me back."
"With pleasure," he said, and proceeded to do exactly that, taking his time, being gentle, making it so good that when I finally came apart around him again, the tears that fell were purely from overwhelming emotion and pleasure.
And as I looked up at him, at this complicated, dangerous, wonderful man who'd somehow become my entire world, I found I didn't mind that promise of forever nearly as much as I probably should have.