13. ~Sebastian~

I'd tried to stay away.

Well, from being alone with her without the buffer and irritating chaperone that Caleb had basically become.

I'd tried to satisfy my growing obsession with brief glimpses and interactions with her when she'd come to the mansion to learn with Caleb.

But it hadn't been enough.

Not nearly.

And it had become more than just learning and doing that meditating therapy with Caleb. The two of them had been hanging out, more of the time spent going toward that with each visit. They'd even ended up playing video games one time and she'd talked about some of the tricks of the design of them, how certain effects were created, why characters looked and moved a certain way.

They were basically bonding, becoming closer.

While I was being shut out and pushed away.

The fuck I was gonna let that happen.

It had been made worse with Skylar not coming to the mansion this weekend, because her parents were out of town and she'd wanted time to do her schoolwork and also to decompress.

My window of opportunity to do something about the permanent itch crawling under my skin that was my fixation with her had come when Caleb had announced that he would be spending the weekend with Caspian. That meant fucking hardcore all weekend long, one of their crazy-ass marathons that happened whenever Cas was extra stressed with King and needed to blow off some steam. Sometimes he'd take that to Obscura, but with Damien being there a lot at the moment, he'd limited his time there, not wanting to run into him after he'd come onto him and then Caleb, as Cal had reluctantly revealed to me after I'd picked up on something there during my brief interaction with my unhinged brother in the café.

While Cas didn't shy away from confrontation—hell, sometimes he relished it—he was doing so with Damien because he was on the verge when it came to him, on the verge of going the heavy-handed route and breaking his fucking vow to me. He saw him as a volatile element and Cas didn't usually let those breathe, let alone exist near his vicinity. I knew he'd wanted to put him down as soon as he'd kicked him out of our covert activities because he'd anticipated him lashing out and reacting badly, but he'd stopped himself because of me.

At least Damien was lying low now and not stirring up any shit.

I hadn't heard anything from him, or about any trouble he'd caused, since that day I'd warned him off in the café. He hadn't even pursued Skylar about the fights he wanted to set up for her.

Anyway, I'd tried to focus on getting started on my project of designing and then also building a model of a two-story home on the lakefront. But thoughts of Skylar had been cutting into my concentration, putting me in a restless and agitated state.

And so, I'd come here.

I climbed in through window.

Any idea of stopping from going further and then turning back around had been swallowed up when I'd actually found it unlocked.

Given how cautious and street smart she'd already proven herself to be, both from what I'd seen in person and our research, I knew it couldn't have been an accident.

No. She'd done it on purpose.

It had been an invitation.

"Better lock your bedroom window, beautiful. Could be a psychopath lurking nearby."

She'd made her choice.

She'd wanted me to crawl through her window and descend on her.

The moment I'd barged into that bathroom and seen her reaction to me while she'd stood there all wet and naked, had pulled me up short on the whole punishment and settling up I'd threatened her with, though.

She hadn't shied away.

She hadn't tried to fight it.

She'd fucking well surrendered to it.

To me.

In that moment, punishing her for that kiss with my brother had lost all meaning. It just hadn't fucking mattered.

Only harnessing that reaction had.

Her openness.

Her honesty.

That raw part of her.

It had gone better than I'd even imagined with her actually admitting that she wanted me.

Fucking finally.

I smiled over at her as I stroked her hair away from her face while she slept.

In my t-shirt.

I'd woken up in the middle of the night—the norm for me—and I'd put my wet clothes in the dryer that I'd found downstairs when I'd given myself an unsolicited tour of the place. She'd been shivering, so once they'd dried, I'd slipped my shirt on over her naked body. I'd thought I would regret covering her gorgeous body from view and her skin marked by me with scratches, bites, and even my cum, but seeing her wearing a piece of my clothing had gone beyond that, my blood roaring at the possessiveness of it all. It satisfied me in a way I hadn't experienced before, in a way that soothed me. So much so that I'd actually managed to fall asleep for a few hours again.

And then I'd awoken again to find myself not alone in bed.

I couldn't remember the last time that had happened.

It hadn't happened before.

Even when I'd been more sexually prolific, I'd never had a woman sleep over. I'd ordered them a cab, or had a car service drive them home.

I'd hated the very idea of having anybody in my space, that intimately close.

But this, waking up to Skylar twice now, it hadn't felt like that. There'd been no agitation, no need to get the hell out. I'd relished it. I still couldn't get out of my head the image and feel of her being wrapped tightly around me the first time I'd awoken in the middle of the night. Clinging to me, her face buried in my chest.

A little while after I'd come to the second time, that peaceful look on her beautiful face had twisted into a pained grimace and she'd started to turn in her sleep, seemingly distressed.

It was why I'd started stroking her hair—well, one of the reasons—and it had worked, calming her down until that peaceful sleep had returned to her.

As I thought more about it, about her anguish that I'd witnessed up close, it had me getting more and more agitated. Because I had a very good idea where it was rooted, what was causing it. Well, who was causing it.

But I couldn't broach the subject to her.

Caleb had already attempted it, pretending he'd just been going off those texts he'd seen when he'd infiltrated her phone.

It had been much more than that, though.

We knew about him.

She couldn't be made aware of that yet.

I couldn't imagine her reacting well.

Until we pulled her further inside our world, the risk of her turning tail was too high. With how she'd grown on me and somehow managed to get under my skin in such an irreversible way, just the idea of that made me sick inside.

It wasn't part of the plan.

The actual plan was all that should matter to me, all that would've mattered not long ago.

But now, I couldn't give two fucks about that.

She'd imprinted herself on me and that was what I was focused on.

I pulled the covers up to her chin, not trusting myself, especially while she was in my shirt, and I forced a hell of a lot of effort to actually ease away and climb out of her bed.

Any longer and I'd be waking her up with my tongue between her thighs.

After how hard I'd gone on her last night, I doubted she'd be up for that.

I'd already gotten a good look at her cunt and it was still red-raw from my slaps. Her skin was marked all over too, and her hot little ass had to be sore beyond belief.

Mmm. I bet her throat was too after how she'd throat-fucked herself like a feral thing with my cock. Jesus fuck, I'd never encountered anything like it. The way she could not only take what I dealt out, but push it so much further too, and demand that from me… it was out of this world.

I adjusted my boxers, trying to calm my hard-on down, as I snatched up my phone that I'd put on the bedside table, then made my way quietly out of the bedroom and headed downstairs.

Unlike the home I'd grown up in, and that which Damien still lived in with our mom and whatever trophy male she'd gotten her claws into—it switched up every month of so—Skylar's home wasn't old world, Victorian-style décor with gaudy and ostentatious displays of wealth, it was modern and sleek, with a minimalistic design.

It served to highlight the difference between our mothers' approaches to their real estate businesses too. The old world over-abundance of luxury of Rossun Real Estate versus the modern and oftentimes edgy designs that The Bennett Group had to offer.

My goal with my current project was actually to blend the two opposing styles—a tall order, no doubt, but I was always up for a challenge.

My mom wouldn't be happy about that. She wanted me to go her route, to emulate RRE's style, but that just wasn't my thing. She'd have to be satisfied enough that I was following the Architecture path as it was.

Besides, my dad had wanted to veer more toward modernizing things and moving away from the unattainable luxury that RRE had become known for. I'd thought Mom would honor him by finally agreeing to do that, to move beyond her comfort zone and her unbelievable stubbornness. But she hadn't. She'd basically doubled down instead. When I'd gone through my dad's things shortly after his death, I'd actually found documentation pertaining to a deal he'd had in the works with Maria Bennett, his plans to work with her on a slew of upcoming projects. When my mom had taken the reins, though, all that had gone to hell because of her hatred toward Skylar's mother.

At first, I'd thought that hatred had been rooted in their high school dynamic. They'd both attended the hoity toity private school that me, Damien, Caleb, and Caspian had, and they'd been bitter rivals. Vivian Thorn had been the Queen Bee and Maria Bennett had been the edgy outsider who'd been dragged by my mom for her differences. But for that to still be going strong so many years later, it had lent weight to there being more to it. So I'd investigated and found an unsavory connection between Maria and my dad. One I sure as fuck wasn't going to tell Skylar about. That would just further complicate everything. Fortunately, I'd already had time to absorb it and shove it into the background. My mom clearly hadn't, though. It came through in her clear favoritism toward Damien because he wasn't so much like my dad like I was, in her poor treatment of me through her reaction to my descent into drug abuse and alcoholism, and how she continued to dishonor my dad's memory in so many ways, with her business decisions, and her taking a trophy lover every couple of months and bringing them to the Thorn Estate, letting them stay there like they fucking belonged, and like my dad never had.

Fuck.

I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, trying to get a handle on my raging thoughts.

I hadn't entertained any of that for a long time.

Because I'd been successfully shut down.

But now, since this mind-fuck that was my every interaction with Skylar Bennett, other things had come trickling out too, like they were trying to burst through the floodgates.

I needed to focus on a task.

As I passed by the kitchen, all sleek silver appliances with black marble countertops and an island doubling as a breakfast bar, that task came to mind.

I put my phone down on the breakfast bar island, then rummaged in the fridge, the ingredients I found determining what I was going to make.

Before I knew it, I was immersed in the idea of whipping up breakfast-in-bed for Skylar.

I couldn't wait to see that look she got when she was touched by something. She looked so happy and also confounded at the same time, and her lips pulled into this cute little smile, her beautiful emerald eyes shining brightly.

Jesus. Cute?She really was affecting me in ways I couldn't seem to get a handle on.

Truth was, I didn't want to.

That would mean cutting it off, cutting her off.

Not a chance in hell.

I was so immersed in the task at hand that thirty minutes flew right on by.

I found a couple of plates and set about dishing out the food I'd made. Then I added a couple of glasses of freshly-squeezed orange juice that I found in the door of the fridge, and poured two coffees. Hers I made strong and black, the way she somehow liked it. Or, how she'd had it served to her at the café that day—yes, I'd been watching from the shadows long before I'd actually approached her, choosing the most opportune moment when she'd been getting frustrated with her school project. What? I'd needed an in. It wasn't my fault she'd been so standoffish that I'd had to operate that way with her.

After last night, though, I was hoping that was over and done with.

It felt different now.

Just as I finished up, my phone buzzed on the island by my plate.

I tensed, thinking it was Cal realizing I wasn't actually at the mansion, and then putting two and two together.

Fortunately, as I took in the notification, it wasn't him. Good, he had to be too occupied with Cas and their weekend-long fuckfest. Cas didn't usually let him come up for air, wanting them both fully-immersed. It had obviously just been my paranoia and possibly a little bit of guilt at going around them both by coming here to Skylar.

I was smiling like a fool as I took in the sender instead.

Skylar: Did you leave?

My smile only grew as I ran a mile with the subtext of her question. Not to mention, the fact that one of the first things—possibly the first thing—she'd thought to do when she'd woken up was to reach out to me.

It boded really well.

Perhaps this obsession wasn't so one-sided anymore.

Sebastian: What if I did?

Dots appeared at the bottom of my screen, then disappeared, before reappearing again.

Finally, she messaged back.

Skylar: Then it would be par for the course.

I started at her response.

She was being… vulnerable.

Sebastian: That first time, you shoved me away right after I'd made you come. You were overwhelmed. The second time, Cal took the choice away from me. If I hadn't agreed, he and Caspian would've blocked my way to you with much more definitive action than they already ended up taking.

Skylar: I wasn't talking about you. And that last part is fucked-up, it's not their call.

I smiled.

Sebastian: Glad you feel that way. Guess you're over the whole hating me thing, huh?

Skylar: Maybe.

I chuckled.

Sebastian: Maybe? That's harsh, baby.

Skylar: *Winky face emoji*

She really was something. I fucking well loved it.

Sebastian: Who were you talking about anyway? Who the hell would leave you like that?

Skylar: Guys get swept up in the wild fucking and how I bring it, but they don't want the forthright and powerful personality beyond that. Apparently, it's "grating" and "emasculating".

Jesus Christ.

Well, that hadn't come through in our research on her.

But it explained a lot about her loner disposition and also gave clarity when it came to some of her reactions, and interactions she and I had shared.

Sebastian: Then you were fucking mere boys. Insecure little shits actually, by the sounds of it.

Skylar: You've said I'm annoying and aggravating too.

Sebastian: Only when you were holding back on giving me the real you. The opposite of what those sorry fucks were against in you.

Skylar: Good point.

Sebastian: I haven't been with anyone for over a year. Not just because of my sobriety and all that, but because they all use me for my celebrity. Even happened a few days back when I drew the attention away from you at Luxe. One of the girls used a selfie she took with me and edited it to look like a whole lot more. It's all over social media as we speak.

"I'm sorry."

I spun, adrenaline shooting through me at the sound of her voice so close.

And there she was now leaning against the doorway of the kitchen, eyeing me.

Standing there in nothing but my black tee that only reached halfway down her thighs. Her blue and silver hair was all wild with that just-fucked look and her gorgeous emerald eyes were a little glassy from sleep. Fuck me, how could she look so sexy and cute at the same time?

I swallowed down the raging possessiveness that threatened to take me over when the marks on her skin added a whole other level, urging me to burst across the small distance between us, shove her up against the wall, and fill her cunt with my cum again.

"You knew I was down here?"

"Not at first, but then I heard you pacing."

I looked to see that I was no longer anywhere near the breakfast bar. "Uh, yeah, I tend to do that when I'm texting sometimes, if I'm caught up in it."

"Kind of loud, considering you're barefoot," she said, with a wry smile.

I chuckled. "Yeah. I can be heavy-footed when I'm not thinking about it much."

Her smile fell as she told me, "I am sorry, you know? That you've had to go through all that with your previous sexual partners."

Sexual partners? Adorable.

"It is what it is." And thinking about it risked putting me in a sour mood, the last thing I wanted now I was actually here alone with her and we had some time together. And the major breakthrough that last night had been.

"Well, at least I don't need to worry about that with you. Your social media has been inactive for a while."

"You stalked me on social media too?" she asked, looking amused, rather than offended or the least bit worried. Her softness with that hard, fearsome edge really was an enchanting combination.

"Yeah, it looks like the last time you posted was a few weeks before you left that design school. Even then, you didn't participate much and barely interacted with anybody else outside of a couple of your classmates, just posting sketches of your video game characters, some color palettes, and anything intriguing or noteworthy you found for inspiration in your surroundings."

It took her a moment to absorb my observations.

And then she told me, "Even with that, I wouldn't do that to you, to anyone."

I smiled. "I already know that, beautiful. You don't like drawing attention to yourself, preferring to stick to the shadows and keep to yourself, and you're big on anonymity and privacy, and people being allowed to express who they are. That last part is actually why I was so pissed and harsh with you, because when you came back here, you weren't adhering to that. It's rare for me to meet people like that, outside of my small circle of Cal and Cas, so expecting to encounter that in you and finding it tampered down, it… it bugged me, I guess."

"You can't be that yourself, so you find it in others. But being who you are, they can only be a trusted few."

"Something like that."

She took my words in and then she noticed the breakfast that I'd prepared.

Zucchini frittatas, Belgian waffles adorned with fresh raspberries and blueberries, along with yogurt parfaits. And, of course, some freshly-squeezed orange juice and coffee.

Sure enough, as I'd hoped for, her eyes lit up beautifully and she stared at me open-mouthed. "I… you actually did all of this?"

"Yeah, I mean, I meant to bring it up to you in bed, but I couldn't find a tray or anything like that."

"Caleb said King's people had all your meals prepared and sent over weekly."

"That's him being overprotective. Maybe a little controlling too. But I can still muster up something on my own here and there." I shook my head to myself. "Unlike Cal. He's got no clue whatsoever. He's actually banned from cooking after one too many fires and even cutting and peeling himself instead of the vegetables and what-not he'd been trying to prep."

She burst out laughing. "Peeling himself? Seriously?"

"Yeah, he likes pain and he's well acclimated to it more than anybody I've ever known, so he didn't even notice at first. By the time I walked in, the back of his hand was dripping blood and more peeled than the potato he'd been trying to work on."

"Jeez." She frowned. "He likes pain?"

"Yeah, way beyond a little erotic pain. He's even been talking about getting his dick inked, all the way down too." I screwed up my face. "No fucking thanks. It's part of all that dark he's been teaching you about. For him, anyway."

"I can understand it from a sexual standpoint and even in a fight when you're all amped up and that thrill takes you over, but beyond that, I'm not a fan either." She thought on it for a moment, then moved on, asking me, "Does he know you're here right now?"

"No. Neither him or Cas."

"Is that a good idea?"

"You tell me."

She grinned. "I… well, yeah. I mean, what happened went over really well with me, extraordinarily so actually. But that's not… it's… well, it's not the point."

"Shit, woman, you're blushing."

She held her hand up in front of her face, her now very flushed face. "I am not."

I stepped closer. "Hold up, you said extraordinary?"

"Stop," she said, with a little giggle.

"I can't believe a feisty and tough-as-nails thing like you is actually embarrassed."

She brought her hand down. "I'm not exactly used to the whole morning-after thing. After the deed is done, I don't have to face them. And even with you, there was time in between for me to get over that part the last couple of times before I saw you again."

"The deed? Fuck me, that's adorable."

"You're being a shit. And you're not making it better." She stared at me for a moment. "Right, because you want an answer to the extraordinary thing." She gave me a withering look. "You can be a relentless bastard at times, you know that?"

"About certain things, absolutely."

She blew out a breath. "Fine. It was that, okay?"

"Extraordinary?" I pushed, full-on grinning.

"Yes. Jeez. It rocked my world. Happy now?"

"Very." I reached out and took her hand. "Come now, eat before your breakfast gets cold." When she resisted my little tug to bring her further into the kitchen, I kissed the back of her hand and told her, "I'm done being a shit now, I promise."

"Okay," she said, letting me guide her over to the breakfast bar and to the stool in front of the breakfast I'd set up for her. As she hopped on, I pushed it in and I caught a smile from her.

I took a seat beside her and watched as she took a sip of her coffee first.

And then she choked.

"You don't like it?"

"I didn't look before I drank it, didn't see there wasn't any milk. And there's no sugar either."

"I thought this is how you liked your coffee?"

She thought for a moment and then I saw the realization hit her. "Right, your stalking. You saw me order this at the campus café. That was a once-in-a-while thing, when I really need a jolt. Usually I take heavy milk and like, four sugars."

"I see. Four? Got a hell of a sweet tooth, do you? Those pink cupcakes in the fridge are yours then?"

She pushed off the stool and took her coffee with her and I watched as she opened the cupboard and took out a sugar bowl and started scooping a whole lot into her mug. As she opened the fridge and pulled out some milk, she told me, "Raspberry cupcakes are my favorite dessert food. My mom ordered them in for a special meal to celebrate me starting at Luxe, then she's kept it up every few days since." She rolled her eyes. "It's some low-tier bribe, I think. Or encouragement, from a more optimistic perspective. Her way of pushing me to stay there and stick with what she's always wanted me to do… the whole Architecture thing. Without actually voicing it and coming across as heavy-handed, you know?"

Cupcakes? Hmm. Caspian would be all over that. They were his favorite too. Given who he was and how classy and refined he came across to the outside world, people always assumed he'd settle for nothing less than top-tier fine dining. But, really, he was quite simple when it came to his real food preferences, down-to-earth with it in a way. He just didn't show that often. He stayed within the carefully-crafted image for the most part.

As she came back and settled on her stool again, she looked at my coffee. "Milk? And what else in yours?"

"One sugar, half-full with milk. Tampers down the bitterness of the coffee for me. I don't really like it that much, but Cal's dependence on the whole coffee and caffeine thing kind of made it a staple in my life, part of my routine, so it's a go-to now."

She chuckled at that. "I see."

We fell into an easy silence as we then dug into our breakfast and she had me smiling as sounds of contentment emanated from her every now and then, along with compliments here and there too, making my first attempt in a long while at making a meal a rousing success.

"So, the whole Architecture thing? Does your mom know it's you trying to distance yourself from the Onyx thing and how that spiraled out of control during your time at Vista Ridge?"

"She has no idea." Her eyes hardened. "Neither will she ever."

I held up my hands. "Message received. I'm not threatening you, though."

"I'm just making sure, given how things started off with us."

"What about your dad?"

"He suspects something happened, but he doesn't know."

"I get you not wanting to go back, but there are art and design schools here in Rossun too."

"I know," she murmured. "This is best for now."

"I beg to differ."

She swung her head at me. "What?"

"Can you honestly tell me that you're happy doing this, being at Luxe? That what you're studying is jiving with who you are and the way you operate, the way you think, your whole edgy and creative personality?"

"Is this because you saw me struggling and getting frustrated with that floor plan?"

"No, it's because there was no excitement, no spark whatsoever when we worked on it. It was just a chore to you, unlike for me. I enjoy it and I excel at it. I've wanted to become an architect since I was a kid, first to follow in my dad's footsteps, then to make my mark on my own."

"Being me and all that it entailed caused a lot of issues, a lot of painful things—for me and others."

"So you're doing everything not to be you?"

"I was until your stubbornness and relentlessness entered my life."

"You know how I feel about all that denial, all those lies."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, you've made that perfectly clear." She sipped at more of her coffee, then told me, "For now then, when I'm around you and maybe even Caleb, I'll forgo that denial."

"Be the real you without me having to coax it out all the time?"

"Yeah. I mean, it feels safe to be that way."

"With me?"

She looked away, but actually admitted, "Yeah."

I stilled.

I couldn't fucking believe it.

"Don't let it go to your head," she said, noticing my reaction. "That's the last thing needed."

"Hey, my ego's not as big or as insufferable as you're making it out to be."

"If you say so."

I reached out and tickled her under her ribs and she squirmed and shrieked. "Hmm, good to know you're highly ticklish, beautiful."

"Stop!" she cried through her shrieking and giggling, batting me away.

"Say it," I pushed, dodging her attempts to escape my tickle torture.

"Okay! God, okay! It's not… it's not that bad! Some of the time."

I stopped and grinned at her. "I let you get away with that some of the time thing."

"Aww, the generosity is melting my heart," she said, mockingly slapping a hand to her chest.

"I guess I'll just have to prove it then."

"I guess you will."

We returned to eating our food and then she eyed my silver pendant. "So, what's the deal with that? I noticed that Caleb has the same one."

"Caspian does too. It's a brotherhood sort of thing, a symbol of our bond, all the shit we've been through together."

"Why the different colors?"

I ran my fingers over the angel wings, then the heart, and settled on the blue gemstone. "Blue is mine because I'm the calm element of our trio. I rein them in, bring peace, if you will. Cal's is red to represent his passion and intensity."

"And King?"

"Purple." I grinned. "For the whole regal thing he's got going on."

"Being the King of Rossun? And, what, the leader of your group?"

"Yes to the former. Partly to the latter. It's more of a democracy, but if the final word needs to be had, it's likely Cas who'll call it, yeah."

She nodded, taking it all in. "That's really sweet. They're like friendship bracelets."

"We're not calling them that."

That earned me a giggle. "Okay."

"Good."

"So, how come I haven't crossed paths with the infamous King yet?"

"You will."

"Well, that sounded a little ominous."

I shook my head. "I didn't mean it that way. He's just got his hands full with King, he's hard to pin down sometimes."

That wasn't entirely the truth, seeing as though he was literally having a weekend of fucking with Caleb right now, although he'd likely still be working during hydration breaks, knowing him and his whole workaholic disposition. But he could've met with Skylar by now, could've inserted himself into her life like Cal and I had.

He was biding his time, waiting on the most opportune moment, because then he'd bring her fully into the fold and reveal what we actually wanted her for.

The thing was, it wasn't all I wanted her for.

It hadn't been for a while now.

And the original plan wasn't sitting well with me anymore.

I didn't want him to wreck her and make her our puppet so he could get what he needed from her.

And, honestly, I wouldn't allow it now either.

Things were different.

She was important to me.

It wasn't just about business now.

It was a fuck of a lot more.

Caleb had been bonding with her. If I could push that along a little, or nurture it at the very least, I could get him on board with this, and we could go to Caspian with this change. It would carry more weight if he was with me before I presented it and tried to convince the almighty King of the City. He wasn't exactly known for changing his mind or strategy once it had been set.

It wouldn't be an easy job with Caleb, given the way things were at the moment, strained between us. Or with how I'd been coming across with my reactions and actions lately that had called my tight grip on my control into question.

"Sebastian?"

I blinked out of my thoughts to see Skylar now standing and holding her plate with her finished meal.

"What's up?"

"I asked you if I can clear your plate?"

"Yeah, sure," I said, handing it to her.

She walked away over on the other side of the kitchen and started rinsing the dishes then placing them in the dishwasher. "Wow," she exclaimed, finding a bunch of things I'd put in there. "You cleaned up everything you used to make this sweet breakfast already."

"Of course. What did you think, I'd leave it for you to do when I was the one who made the mess?"

She chuckled. "You need everything in order, huh?"

Damn, she'd called that about me really easily. "I do."

"Well, while that can certainly have its intense and controlling aspects, things like this highlight its upsides too."

"That's a nice way of looking at it. And very generous too—especially from you, toward me."

"You get what you give, baby."

I grinned. "Careful, all this teasing and challenging is getting me hard."

As she finished with the dishwasher and I rose to my feet, her eyes widened when she saw the tent in my boxers. "Wow, you weren't kidding."

"Oh, beautiful, I never kid about that."

She was yelping in the next second as I was across the kitchen, then right in her space in a blink.

I crowded her against the counter and slapped my hands down either side of her waist, caging her in and breathing in the blended scent of jasmine, sex and me.

"I've been wanting to do this since the second you sauntered in here wearing my shirt," I said, a moment before my mouth crashed down on hers.

She rose to it right away, curling her hand around my nape and urging me closer as I feasted on her lips, then took her mouth, our tongues tangling fiercely, before it became a whirlwind of sucking, licking, and biting, and she was grinding against my rock-hard dick, little whimpers of need spilling from her and being swallowed by our kiss.

I broke the kiss and leaned against her, my face buried in her shoulder.

"Fuck," I panted, lifting my head a little, my hot breath fanning over the side of her neck and making her tremble.

That really wasn't helping with my fight to get control, to hold back.

Neither was the sight of her breasts rising and falling in an erotic rhythm against my chest as she tried to catch her breath too.

I blinked hard a couple of times and pushed off her, trying to refocus by asking her, "What were your plans for today before I came by?"

"You mean, before you broke into my home by scaling a rickety old trellis and crawling in through my window like a creeper?"

"Something that worked out extraordinarily well for you—for the both of us."

She grinned. "True." She shifted her weight against the counter and I looked away as that included her rubbing her thighs together. Jesus. "I was going to do a little sketching, just chill and decompress. Why? Do you need to get going?"

"No. In fact, I was hoping we could spend the day together."

"Like a date?"

"If you need to put a label on it."

"You're the one who needs the label with all that possessiveness of yours you've got going on. You want me to know where you stand, and where I stand by extension."

"Damn, you're good. Yeah, a date then. I can't take you out in public without a shitload of preparation and putting certain things in place to keep the paparazzi at a distance, or it will put you right in the public eye in an instant."

"And you'd have to out your breaking-and-entering activities to Caleb and King."

"Hey, there was no breaking involved. But, pretty much." I played with some strands of her hair, musing aloud, "How about we stay here and you show me some of your sketches? Maybe one of those video games you made while at Vista Ridge?"

"Are you a gamer?"

"I only play in my free time now, but I used to be really into it." It had helped me to switch my mind off and to also sublimate during my recovery from all that shit before.

"Oh, so that massive gaming setup in the den at the mansion is yours?"

"Yeah. Did you think it was Caleb's?"

"Well, I assumed, with him being the fun-loving one out of the two of you."

"What? The fun-loving one?"

"You were too intense with me for me to see that in you. Although, this morning you're actually showing me a whole lot more."

"I am, huh?"

She nodded. "You're much more relaxed. Joking around. Being lighthearted. And… happy." A beaming smile spread over her face. "I like it."

"I'm glad." I kind of liked it too. It was a break away from my robotic, unfeeling, and shut down state. It did possess an unsettling side to it, though, because it had been so long since I'd allowed all of this breath, since I'd relinquished control with myself even a little. But being with her in the here and now, it mellowed that disconcerting edge out.

It made it okay.

Shemade it okay for me to do that in her presence.

I didn't fully understand how or why, I just knew that I was liking it a whole lot, and I wanted to bask in it for as long as I could.

"So, I have a game I developed that passed its beta stage testing and is ready for market—if I ever want to take it there, you know, with everything going on with me right now. It's kind of Assassin's Creed meets Skyrim. It's a third-person RPG like the former and set in a fantastical world. It's called Guardians at the Gates."

I blinked. "You were able to create something that layered and complex in just the two years you were at Vista Ridge?"

"I'd been working on the artwork and the story since I was fifteen and I started learning programming a year after that so I could bring it to life. I'm not that great at the coding, though, I'm more on the creative side than the technical, so I had some help with that aspect. Then I took the idea to the institute and I worked with an ace video game programmer. There was meant to be a sequel called Guardians of Gold Forge, but without her help, it's just in development now."

"Hmm, well, Caleb has some major talent in that area. He's mastered a slew of programming languages. During my more intense gaming phase, he even dabbled a little there too. He could help you out, if you wanted."

"That's sweet. I don't know, maybe. I'm trying not to get too drawn into all of that."

"You said you were going to sketch this weekend?"

"Something I only do intermittently now so it's just a hobby. I miss it, so I need to get that creative energy out once in a while still. But that's all it is right now."

As much as I wanted to push it, I didn't.

She was already torn about it as it was.

And I didn't want to sour things between us.

"Okay. Bring out the game and we'll play."

She brightened again. "Sounds like a plan." She eased around me and pulled away, telling me, "I'm gonna take a shower first."

"Sure."

Her fingers brushed mine and I looked to see that sexy coy smile on her face. "Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Are you coming?"

I entwined my fingers with hers, then brushed my thumb over the back of her hand. "The second I lay eyes on your wet and naked body, we're not just gonna be showering."

"I figured," she said, her eyes hooding.

Fuck me.

"How sore are you, beautiful?" I asked, as I fingered the hem of my tee, brushing the soft skin of her thighs in the process. "While I love the idea of fucking you raw and having you feel me deep inside for days, there's also a line for me. I don't want to hurt you."

"You know I like a little hurt."

I smirked. "Well established."

"You only took my ass last night."

"And your mouth. Well, the way it went down, it was more like you stuffing my cock deep all on your own, trying to wreck that talented throat for me."

"You know what I mean," she said, her cheeks heating.

"You're saying your cunt is feeling lonely?"

She trembled. "God, you have a way with your dirty words."

My smirk widened. "I know."

She pulled out of my hold and then she surprised me as she pulled my tee up over her head, baring her sexy body in one go.

"Fuck me."

"That's the idea," she said in what I called her sex voice of hers that sent a jolt of need straight to my dick.

Before I could get another word out, she turned and ran.

I was bolting after her in the next second.

I caught up to her just as she was halfway up the stairs.

She squealed as she registered me right behind her.

I slapped her ass and she pushed back against my hand, then tried to bolt again.

I angled my hand and smacked her cunt, my fingers drenched in a second, she was so wet.

Lunging at her, I threw her over my shoulder in a fireman lift, slapping her ass as I took the stairs two at a time with her, even more desperate now to get to the shower and descend on her. Her moans, shrieks and giggles were the sweetest music as I carried her.

She squirmed as I reached under her and started rubbing her cunt.

"Mmm, so wet, so desperate to be fucked like my filthy little whore."

"Yes! Hell, yes!" she cried, no longer hiding even an ounce of her need.

Fuck, yeah.

All bets were off now.