I whimpered, fighting to form the words.
“Need this…need you,” he muttered at my lips, letting his hand slip down between my thighs from behind.
“Sebastian…” I attempted again, then completely gave when his tongue swept into my mouth.
Hot.
Urgent.
Ruthless.
My body came alive with this energy. With this connection that belonged only to us. Heat spread like wildfire, blistering below my skin, and Sebastian groaned, as if he felt the burn beneath his hands. He urged me back, pinning me up against the high-backed leather at the edge of the horseshoe booth, this secluded spot that had become his.
He broke our kiss and fastened his gaze on me, his throat bobbing heavily as he looked at me in a way I wasn’t sure he ever had before, as if he were begging me to hate him, and at the same time, promise I’d never let him go. His fingers curled in the front of my camisole exposed below my scoop-necked sweater, and he tugged it down, baring my breasts.
Thumbs flicked across the buds.
A fever of energy.
A rush of lust.
My head rocked back, and I gasped for a breath.
Feral eyes speared me and I lifted my arms, gripping my hair as I stared back at him, giving him more—showing him that I was offering all of me.
And I could feel his pulse, sense it move, a quickening of severity that pounded through his veins.
I suddenly felt powerful. Beautiful. A requirement for this stunning man.
Something like a growl rumbled in his chest, and he quickly spun me around. In the same second, his arm raked furiously across the booth tabletop, flinging his empties out of the way. One fell to the plush booth seat, another to the floor, the sound of glass crashing on the wooden floors the only noise against our ragged breaths.
He pressed me down with a hand to the back of my neck. Cold polished wood met my bare breasts, and another whimper passed from my tongue as he wedged his knee between my legs, spreading them apart. Air hit my backside as he bunched up my skirt. He yanked at my panties, ripping them free. I heard the rustle of his jeans, the tearing of foil—his body so close I could feel him rolling a condom on his cock.
I sucked in a breath, so turned on I couldn’t see.
Fingers glided through my exposed center. “You ready for me?”
That same heady threat, and I shook, bracing myself for the pleasure that only he could bring.
He rocked into me and I cried out, my mouth gaping open and my cheek pressed to the table as I writhed against the perfect intrusion, so big and full and better than anything I’d ever experienced in all my life.
Because he’d somehow become a part of my everything.
For a moment, he stilled. Then he withdrew and drove back in.
“Every time,” he grunted. “Every fucking time.”
Desperate fingers sank into my flesh, gripping my hips as he began to fuck me.
His movements were almost savage.
Sebastian was never gentle. But I could feel something inside him had slipped. Tripped. As if he’d sat out here alone, and during those passing hours he’d wondered if he’d ever get to touch me again and, now that he was, he was taking everything he could while he had the chance.
Frenzied, his thumbs raced along where we were joined.
Something about it felt intimate and raw and honest, and I was falling further, being sucked beneath the surface.
A stone in his sea.
Completely drowning in this man.
Sliding his hands up, he palmed the cheeks of my bottom. Spreading me wider. Taking me deeper.
“Do you feel me?”
Yes.
“Do you feel me, Shea?”
“Yes,” I mumbled frantically.
His thumbs ran up and down the crease of my ass, and I gasped out when he swirled a finger around the sensitive flesh, the man touching me in a way that no one else had, and again, my spirit trembled in fear.
In vulnerability.
Defenseless.
Slowly he pushed it inside.