Chapter 168
Lirael
The rain was deafening against the car roof, creating a cocoon that made the rest of the world disappear. Sebastian's hands moved over me with desperate tenderness, like he was trying to memorize every inch.
"Wait," I said, catching his hands before they could slide beneath my waistband. "I need you to hear something first."
He froze, his amber eyes searching my face, pupils already dilated with want. "What?"
"This isn't goodbye," I said firmly. "Whatever tragic romantic narrative you're building in your head—this isn't our last time. This is just the beginning. So if you're trying to make this some kind of beautiful memory to sustain me after you're gone, you can stop right now."
He stared at me for a long moment, and then something in his expression shifted—from desperate to determined, from tragic to fierce. "You're right," he said, his voice dropping to that rough register that always made heat pool low in my belly. "This isn't goodbye. This is a promise. A promise that I'm going to fight, that I'm going to survive, that I'm going to live long enough to have a thousand more moments like this with you."
"Good," I said, pulling him back down. "Now stop talking and show me."
The rain pounded harder, thunder crashing close enough to feel in my chest, and Sebastian kissed me like he was trying to pour every emotion he couldn't articulate into the contact. I kissed him back with equal intensity, my hands finally succeeding in getting his shirt open, pushing the wet fabric off his shoulders.
His skin was fever-hot beneath my palms despite the cold rain that had soaked through everything. I traced the lines of muscle across his chest, felt his breath hitch when my fingers found the sensitive spot just below his ribs that always made him—
"Fuck," he gasped against my mouth, his hips jerking forward involuntarily. "Lirael—"
"I know," I murmured, doing it again just to feel him shudder. "I know what you need."
His hands found the hem of my shirt, pulling it over my head in one smooth motion. The cold air hit my exposed skin and I gasped, but his warm palms immediately covered my breasts, thumbs circling my nipples through the thin fabric of my bra. "You're freezing," he murmured against my neck, his mouth hot where it pressed just below my ear.
"Then warm me up," I challenged, arching into his touch.
He did, his mouth replacing his hands, tongue tracing patterns that made me forget about the cold entirely. I tangled my fingers in his wet hair, holding him against me as he worked the clasp of my bra open with practiced ease. When his mouth closed over my bare nipple, I couldn't stop the moan that escaped.
"That's it," he murmured against my skin, his free hand sliding down to work at the button of my jeans. "Let me hear you. No one can hear us up here except the storm."
His fingers slipped beneath the waistband of my jeans, then my underwear, and I gasped when he found me already wet. "Sebastian—"
"I know," he said, echoing my earlier words, his fingers moving in slow circles that made my hips buck against his hand. "I know what you need too."
He worked my jeans down my hips with his free hand, awkward in the confined space of the back seat but determined. I helped, kicking them off along with my shoes, and then I was bare beneath him except for the underwear he was currently pushing aside.
"Look at me," he commanded, and I opened eyes I didn't remember closing to find him staring at me with an intensity that made my breath catch. "I want to watch your face when I make you come."
His fingers slid inside me, and I couldn't stop the cry that tore from my throat. He was relentless, working me with the kind of focused attention he applied to everything, watching my face like he was memorizing every expression, every gasp, every time my eyes threatened to close and he'd slow down until I looked at him again.
"Sebastian, please—" I didn't even know what I was begging for, just that I needed more, needed him, needed—
"Not yet," he said, his thumb finding my clit and pressing in exactly the right way to make stars burst behind my eyes. "Not until you promise me something."
"Anything," I gasped, too far gone to care what I was agreeing to.
"Promise me you won't give up on me," he said, his voice rough with emotion and arousal. "Promise me that no matter how bad it gets, you'll keep fighting."
"I promise," I managed, my hips moving against his hand in a rhythm I couldn't control. "I promise, Sebastian, I promise, now please—"
He kissed me as his fingers curled inside me, hitting that spot that made everything white out, and I came with a cry that was swallowed by his mouth and the sound of thunder overhead. He worked me through it, gentle now, until I was gasping and oversensitive and pulling at his belt with shaking hands.
"Your turn," I said, finally getting his belt open and shoving his pants down. He was hard and heavy in my hand, and the sound he made when I wrapped my fingers around him was almost worth the frustration of the cramped space.
"Lirael," he groaned, his hips thrusting into my grip. "If you keep doing that, this is going to be over embarrassingly fast."
"Good," I said, stroking him the way I knew he liked, watching his face contort with pleasure. "I want you to lose control. Want to see you fall apart for me the way I just did for you."
"Not like this," he said, catching my wrist and pulling my hand away. "When I lose control, I want to be inside you."
He positioned himself between my thighs, the head of his cock sliding through my wetness, and I wrapped my legs around his waist to pull him closer. "Then do it," I challenged. "Stop holding back and show me what you really want."
Something in his expression shifted, the careful control he always maintained cracking to reveal the raw need beneath. He pushed inside me in one smooth thrust that made us both cry out, and then he was moving, hard and fast and desperate, the car rocking with the force of it.
"Is this what you wanted?" he growled against my neck, his teeth scraping the sensitive skin there. "Wanted me to stop being gentle, to take what I need?"
"Yes," I gasped, my nails digging into his shoulders hard enough to leave marks. "Yes, Sebastian, exactly like this—"
He hooked one of my legs over his shoulder, changing the angle, and suddenly he was hitting that spot inside me with every thrust. I could feel another orgasm building, faster than I'd thought possible, and from the way his rhythm was starting to falter I knew he was close too.
"Come with me," he demanded, one hand sliding between us to circle my clit. "Want to feel you come around my cock, want to feel you fall apart—"
I did, clenching around him as the orgasm crashed through me, and I felt him follow seconds later, his whole body going rigid as he came with a groan that sounded like my name and a prayer all at once.
We stayed like that for a long moment, both of us breathing hard, the windows completely fogged and the rain still drumming overhead. Finally Sebastian shifted, pulling out carefully and collapsing beside me in the cramped space.
"That was—" he started, then seemed to run out of words.
"Yeah," I agreed, because I didn't have words for it either.
He pulled me against him, both of us sticky and uncomfortable and completely satisfied, and pressed a kiss to my temple. "Thank you," he said quietly.
"For the sex?" I asked, because I couldn't help myself.
He laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest where my head rested. "For not letting me push you away. For being stubborn enough to fight for us even when I was trying to make it easier by ending it."
I tilted my head up to look at him. "Wait, what?"