The old dog waddles up the hall to follow him. I listen on as he feeds him and puts him out.
Sebastian walks back out into the kitchen.
“What did you have for dinner?” I ask him.
He shrugs. “I didn’t get around to it yet. I was supposed to be going to my friends but-”
“You wanted to see me instead?”
His eyes hold mine. “Something like that. I’ll get something later.”
“By something, you mean my vagina?” I ask innocently.
He gives me a smile. “Precisely.”
I stand and go to the fridge. “I’ll make us something.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“I love to cook.” I open the fridge and peer in. “It’s the one thing I’m good at.”
“There’s another thing you’re very good at.”
My eyes flick over to him and he gives me a sexy wink.
I smile to myself, feeling proud of myself. “What do we have in here?” I see that his fridge is fully stocked. “You cook?”
” I have a cook.”
“Well.” I take out some chicken and put it onto the counter. “Now you have two.”
His eyes hold mine as the air crackles between us.
I take out some fresh garlic, cream, and bacon. I open the pantry and find some fettuccini. “Do you like Carbonara?” I ask.
“Doesn’t everybody?”
“Maybe not.” I get to washing my hands, “Put some music on, will you?”
“What do you want to listen to?”
I narrow my eyes as I get out a chopping board and knife.
“I’ll play your anthem,” he says.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I start to chop the onions.
“This was the song that you walked down the catwalk to in the Escape Lounge.”
The song Sexual Healing by Marvin Gaye sounds through the speaker system.
I stop what I’m doing and glance up. “Was it?”
“Uh-huh.”
“How do you remember that?”
“I remember everything about you. You’re not easy to forget.”
I smile as I go back to chopping. “You do know that I’m going to rob your house while you’re unconscious, right?”
He laughs and walks over behind me to refill my glass. Then, he pulls my hair to the side and begins to kiss my neck.
I smile as goosebumps scatter up my spine.
“Do that, and I’ll tie you up in the basement for a couple of years and use you as my sex slave,” he murmurs against my skin.
His teeth graze my neck. “I’m totally down with that.” I smile, “Stop distracting me, or you won’t be eating.”
“Let’s skip the main and start on dessert.”
“Sebastian.” I turn my head and kiss his big pouty lips. “You need to build up your energy. I’m hoping that dessert will be a marathon event.”
He chuckles, bites me hard, and slaps my behind before he goes back to his stool and sits down.
I turn the hotplates on and begin to fry the onions and garlic. I put the pasta in the boiling water, and we chat and laugh as I cook.
It’s not awkward, and it’s not sleazy. It feels like I’m meant to be here doing this with him… whatever this is.
Marvin Gaye’s Sexual Healing plays throughout the house.
If this song is my anthem, I’m making it my bitch.
We’ve drank two bottles of wine over dinner.
After washing up, I now have Sebastian sitting in the armchair in his bedroom. The room is lit only by the bedside lamp. His bedroom is big and luxurious, like him.
It wouldn’t matter where we were. It’s only me and him now, and this desire between us.
Sebastian and I have a lot of things that are good about us, but it’s the sexuality, the raw hunger for each other’s bodies that’s next level. He makes me crave a deeper connection, a different kind of dominance. One I’ve never needed before him. But now that I’ve had it, I can’t get enough.
My eyes hold his as I slowly undress to the beat.
He sits back, legs wide, his hunger real. I slide my jeans down my legs and throw them to the side. I lift my T-shirt over my head and stand before him in a skimpy white bra and G-string. I unhook my bra and throw it to the side, and then I drop to my knees between his legs. He hisses as he sits back, awaiting my mouth.
I spread his legs aggressively and then slide his pants down, followed by his boxers. His hard cock springs free. My stomach flutters at the sight of it, engorged. Its head a deep red, with thick veins coursing up the length of it.
I take him in my hand and kiss the tip. “Hmm.” I stroke him, and a rush of cream blesses my body with lubricant.
I want him. I want every damn drop.
Getting to let loose on his body is a dream come true. I sit up to remove his T-shirt over his head and throw it to the side. I want full view of this perfection.
He sits back in the chair, his golden skin on show. His broad chest has a scattering of dark over it. His stomach is rippled, and a trail of black hair runs from his navel down to his well-kept, short pubic hair.
His parted quads are big and strong, and I run my hand up his inner thigh, drinking in his beauty.
His eyes hold mine and he cups my face, his thumb slowly sliding over my bottom lip. “Suck me,” he mouths.
I smile as I lick up his length. I cup his balls, and holy fucking hell… this is a man that dreams are made of.
I take him deep into my mouth. His eyes darken, and he pushes my hair back from my forehead as he watches me.
I get into a rhythm. My hand follows my mouth. His moans are deep, his quads are flexing, and I can see the muscles in his stomach contracting on the upstroke.
Fuck, yes.
Watching him come undone like this is my new favorite thing.
His breathing becomes labored, and he begins to shudder as he tips his head back. “Yes,” he pants. “Yes. Fucking yes.”
He convulses hard, grabs my face, and he begins to fuck my mouth with force.
Damn it, I love this. I smile around him and bare my teeth. He convulses as he comes hard.
Euphoria fills me, and with our eyes locked, I drink him down.
His chest is rising and falling as he gasps for air. I keep on slowly sucking him until he’s empty.
“Cartier,” he whispers in awe.
“April,” I correct him, but he cuts me off with a kiss and moans again when he tastes himself.
He grabs the back of my head and holds me to him as our kiss turns desperate. “Get up here and fuck me.”
Sebastian
I sit up onto my elbows and look around my bedroom to see it’s empty. The sunlight is light as it peeks around the drapes.
“April?”
No reply.
Where is she?
The last thing I remember last night was being wrapped around her like a blanket.
I get up and go to the bathroom. When I go to put on my robe on, it’s not hanging on the back of my bathroom door. Where did I leave that?
I throw on a pair of boxer shorts and make my way downstairs. I stop midway down the staircase and listen.
I can hear an American voice. I can also smell pancakes.
I frown.
I walk down into the kitchen.
“Ow,” April says when she steps over Bentley. “You’re in my way, old man.”
Wearing my navy robe, she stops what she’s doing and holds the saucepan mid-air as she watches something on the television in the living area. I glance over to see what she’s watching. It’s CNN, the American news.
I smile and lean against the doorframe. I keep forgetting she’s not from England.
She returns the frypan to the hotplate and continues cooking. Every now and then, she looks up and stops what she’s doing to watch the television.