"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.
She goes to the fridge and takes out some fruit before she begins to slice it up. Watching her, a strange feeling comes over me.
This feels normal. Weirdly normal.
I haven't done normal for a very long time.
For ten minutes, I watch her. She talks to the dog and watches the news as she cooks and fusses about. I don’t think I've ever seen anything as beautiful and lovely.
She has an air about her. She’s confident but innocent, and yet I know she's far from innocent. Quite the opposite, actually.
The woman's a deviant. She fries my fucking brain every time we have sex.
I've never, ever come as hard as I do with her. Every time is better than the last, and I don’t know how that’s possible, because every time, I swear it's the pinnacle.
She glances up and sees me. "Hey, you." She smiles, walks over, and puts her arms around my neck to kiss me softly.
My heart somersaults at her tender touch. "There's my robe," I smile.
She giggles. "This old thing? I thought it was your grandpa’s."
I chuckle as I slide my hands down to her behind, and we stand in each other's arms for a while. Her lips linger over mine before she gifts me with another kiss.
"I made you pancakes."
"Did you?"
"Yeah," she takes my hand and leads me to the stool at the counter. "Sit down and admire my ass while I finish them."
"This, I can do."
"How do you have your coffee?"
"White and one." I watch her make it. "You don’t have to cook while you're here, you know."