I push back a little further, and it hurts, “Oh….” I whimper.
“It’s okay.” He leans down and kisses my shoulder. “Take your time, sweetheart.” His fingertips begin to circle over my clitoris, and I shudder, this …. this is too much.
To feel his oiled-up fingertips, the ache of my needy sex, his body just inside mine.
So there…. but not nearly enough.
His fingers circle and swirl through the oil, and I begin to build.
I’m going to come.
Hard.
I grit my teeth and push back. Sebastian moans as his hands grip my hipbones. He’s grappling for control. “That’s it.” He pushes out as if in pain.
Hearing his guttural voice does something to me, and suddenly I need this. I need to be taken here. “Fuck me,” I whisper over my shoulder at him
His eyes darken.
“Sebastian. I said, fuck me.” I demand.
He grips my hipbones in his hands and pushes forward hard, his body slides deep inside mine, and searing pain shoots through me as I am speared into the mattress.
Oh……fucking hell.
He stays still to let me acclimatize, he leans over and kisses my shoulder. “Kiss me.” I turn my head, and his lips take mine, his fingertips continue to circle over my clitoris, and I feel the pleasure build. “More.” I moan into his mouth, “I need more.”
He slowly pulls out and slides back in. I smile, grateful that it didn’t hurt as much this time.
“You all right?”
“Yes.”
I push my hips back in a silent invitation, and he hisses as he begins to slowly ride me. Short, shallow pumps, and I stare into space as I learn to deal with the new sensation. The lube slaps between us.
“Fuck yeah.” He whispers darkly. “Oh,” He moans. “So, fucking good.”
I smile, knowing that dark part of his brain has been activated where there’s no turning back.
His pumps get deeper, thicker, and ………oh.
My toes curl.
This is good ….. so good.
What have I been missing?
We get rougher, deeper, and I begin to moan, unable to hold it in. The intensity of this is overwhelming, and I’m almost scared to come. “Sebastian.” I cry out.
He gives it to me, hard and fast, and I lose my head as I claw at the sheets. I scream as the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had tears through me.
“Fuck.” He cries as he holds himself deep. I feel the telling jerk of his cock as he comes hard inside of me.
We pant as we fall to the mattress, the waves of pleasure so strong that I shudder uncontrollably. I’m shell-shocked, and he’s kissing me all over as if overwhelmed with love and emotion.
So much devotion.
I open my eyes to find his big brown eyes watching me.
I smile softly.
He bends and nips my shoulder with his teeth, “Fucking hot.” He kisses me. “Can we do that again?”
I giggle as he pulls out of my body. Oh….. it feels foreign with him gone. I liked him in there. “Not today, naughty husband.” I smile as I hold him, “Not today.”
The scent of the ocean, the heat of the sun, the sheer fantasy of my honeymoon is a dream come true.
We lie sunbaking on the deck of the yacht on our second last day in Spain. We’ve had the best week, swimming, shopping and sightseeing all day. Dancing and dining at the most beautiful restaurants and making love all night.
Sebastian speaking Spanish to everyone we meet has literally fried my brain.
I am officially married to the hottest man on earth.
Pure fucking heaven.
We’re lying on towels on the deck, and I glance over at Sebastian. He’s holding his hand up and looking at his thick gold wedding ring. He’s been doing it all week.
I roll over onto my stomach and face him, “What do you think about when you look at your ring?”
He shrugs.
I lean onto my hands. “What?”
“I swore to myself that I would never get married again.”
“And yet, here we are.” I watch him continue to stare at his ring. “Why did we get married if you were so against it?”
“Because it was you.”
My heart swells.
“And because….” He frowns before cutting himself off.
“What?”
“I want a baby, too.”
I smile over at him in surprise, we both knew that I wanted a child, but I didn’t know he did too.
He rolls over toward me, and he runs his hand up over my arm. “I don’t want you taking the pill anymore. I want to try and start our family straight away.” He leans in and kisses me, his lips brush tenderly against mine, “What do you think?”
I smile and run my fingers through his thick black stubble, “I think we should get to baby-making activities, right now.”
He chuckles and rolls me onto my back, and he spreads my legs with his knee. “Already on it.”
We walk down the stairs of the plane and onto the tarmac. The honeymoon is over.
Sebastian takes my hand in his, and we walk through to the airport. Photographers are here waiting. Bart released a photo of the two of us yesterday to the press announcing our marriage, and Sebastian wanted to get this over with.
This is their photo op. The quicker they get the first photo of us as husband and wife, the quicker they leave us alone.
Cameras flash, people cry out our names, and Sebastian whisk me through the airport and into the back of the waiting car. It’s a flurry of activity, and the door shuts behind us, and he turns to me.
“Are you ready to start our new life together, Mrs Garcia?” He asks.
I smile over at my handsome man, “Am I ever.”
Sebastian
Knock, knock.
“Come in!” I call. It’s my first day back and work and everybody wants something from me.
My head of security walks in. “Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Garcia.”
“That’s fine. How can I help you?”
He pauses, choosing his words carefully. “We have a situation downstairs.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Such as?”
“Your… ex-wife is here, demanding to see you.”
I wince. “What?”
“She’s crying. Screaming the place down, actually.”
For fuck’s sake, I know how dramatic she can be. I’ve seen it many times. “Does she know that I’m here?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
I exhale heavily. I may as well get this over with. I can’t say I’m surprised. “Bring her in.”
“Very well, sir.” He leaves, and I let out a deep exhale. I’m not in the mood for this today.
Five minutes later, the door opens, and Helena walks in.
She’s been crying, and my stomach twists. If we were on better terms, I would have called her so that she heard the news from me first.
But we aren’t, so I didn’t.
She sits down at my desk. Her eyes hold mine.
I hold a pen in my hands. Guilt fills me. No matter how much animosity there is between us, regret still lingers when she’s hurt.
“Hello, Helena.”
“You married her?”
“Yes.”
Her eyes well with tears. “How could you?”
I bite my bottom lip to stop myself saying something hurtful. “Helena, I will not have this conversation with you. Our marriage ended seven years ago.”
“She’s no angel,” she whispers angrily.
The hackles on my back rise. How dare she? “What do you mean by that?”
“Don’t act stupid. I know who she is.”
“And who is she?”
“She’s a lying whore.”
“She is nothing of the sort, and watch your fucking mouth. She is my wife.”
“Go to Hell.”