I push that aside because I trust that Sebastian has a good reason for having his gun lying there, and it has nothing to do with hurting me, or anyone who might not deserve it.
His weight is almost too much as he fits himself between my thighs and guides my legs around his hips. I happily comply, my fingers weaving into the mess of hair on top of his head, savoring the feel of his jawline, covered in a thin layer of dark stubble, as his mouth skates across my neck. Needing him inside me right now, to comfort me in my uncomfortable, vulnerable state.
His breathing grows heavy and fast and eager against my ear.
I expect him to reach for a condom from the nightstand. But after several long moments of him simply pressing his body against me and building my anticipation and frustration, I slide a hand under his chin and push his face up to meet my questioning gaze.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” I’ve screwed everything up, haven’t I?
He smiles. “Yeah, you should have.”
Relief swallows up this awful, vulnerable feeling inside me. I trail a finger over his bottom lip and he catches it with his mouth, kissing the tip gently, intimately.
And then he leans closer and begins kissing my mouth in the same way, not like he’s kissed me before, with reckless abandon. Like he’s trying to tell me something with each soft sweep of his tongue, with each gentle nudge of his nose against mine.
I try to match this unusual affection with my own. To tell him what I’m feeling right now without saying the words—that I’m crazy about him, strange, mysterious ways and all.
“You know I’d never do anything to hurt you, right?” he whispers against my mouth.
“Yeah.” Why is he asking? What is he thinking?
He shifts his hips and sinks into me. He pauses to meet my gaze, waiting for me to object, I’m sure. Normally, I would. Hell, I’d buck a guy off me for assuming going bareback was okay, especially without asking.
Sebastian has never objected to putting on a condom before. He was always the one reaching for one, which made me feel good because it means it’s common practice for him to use them.
But I can tell by the look in his eyes now that this wasn’t a forgetful slip up in the heat of the moment.
He waits inside me, letting me decide what I want to do.
How safe I feel with him.
How much I trust him.
I curl my arms around his head and pull his mouth down. And push my hips into him.
He moans softly against my ear and then starts to move, the muscles in his body cording in such a beautiful way with each thrust, as they come harder and faster, and his pants grow louder, the bed creaking noisily with each one until the headboard is knocking on the wall behind us.
I don’t care about that, though. All I can think about is that Sebastian is about to orgasm inside me.
Just the thought of that brings me immediately to the edge. His own groans follow closely behind, and I revel in the feel of him pulsing inside me, my thighs squeezing his body involuntarily.
My chest swelling with warmth and adoration.
I’ve never trusted anyone this much.
Completely.
He rolls us over so that I’m lying on top of him, but he doesn’t pull out.
We fall asleep like that.
THIRTY-TWO
SEBASTIAN
The lemon falls from the branch with barely a touch of my fingers.
“I was thinking of making a lemon pie later today.” Dakota strolls into the greenhouse behind me, coffee in hand. “Do you like lemon pie?”
“I do.” I smile, counting out four more on the branches. “They remind me of Greece.”
“What’s in Greece?”
“A vacation.” My villa, for another week. Sitting empty.
Dakota hums softly as she plucks the other ripe fruit from their branches and drops them into the hem of a billowy white shirt. Hums, just like she did half an hour ago, when I was taking a shower and she strolled into the bathroom to pee. I didn’t think to lock the pocket door from her bedroom.
There really wasn’t much I could do. This is her quirky little house with only one bathroom.
“Thanks for letting me stay here.”