His cock swells again.
Neither of us speaks, too consumed to fill the quiet with words.
Only moans.
He finds my clit, and I shudder in his arms, shaken apart by the achy release wrung from meone more time.
So many times, I’ve lost count.
When the last wave finally lets go, my knees buckle.
“I’ve got you,” he says, keeping me on my feet as his hands soothe the spots he bruised with his grip.
The blind hunger that ruled us settles into quiet tenderness, and a different kind of ache pulses between my legs. The last barrier between us is gone now—proof of what I chose.
Proof that I belong to him in a way the Brotherhood can never claim or auction off.
I turn and press my face to his collarbone, letting myself exist in the hush of the moment, safe inside this marble sanctuary that smells of citrus and honey.
An intoxicating spell, broken only when the water turns cool.
Sebastian shuts off the shower then reaches for two towels. After we dry off, I follow him into the shadowed suite, where he tucks his jacket in the depths of the wardrobe to hide the evidence.
It’s the protector in him, thinking of every angle to keep me safe.
To keepussafe.
Because that dark fabric is our only witness now.
We slip between the sheets, clinging to each other, and every kiss and sigh and moan from tonight plays through my mind. Even knowing the risk we took, I can’t bring myself to regret a single moment.
And yet…
The countdown has already begun, ticking away the seconds until he leaves me again. I brush a finger across the scar tissue along his ribs, tracing the map of his survival—a map that serves as physical evidence of how close I came to losing him.
“What are you thinking?” Sebastian asks, winding a blond lock around his knuckle before letting the damp strands slip free. He repeats the ritual, the hypnotic motion a silent echo of the way he’s always worshiped my hair, no matter the length.
“I was thinking of how amazing we were together.” Not quite the truth, but not a lie, either.
Because it was life altering.
Soul shattering.
Better than I could have imagined.
And in a few hours, I’ll have only the memory to sustain me until he finds his way back home to me.
Ifhe finds his way back home.
“I don’t need to be inside you to feel your anxiety.” His words vibrate against my cheek. “Do you regret it?”
“Not for a second.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I just wish…”
He tilts my chin until we’re eye to eye. “Tell me, baby. If I can make it happen, I will.”