Chapter17
1543 Words
The Line Crossed
Sebastian
I crashed my lips into hers before I could stop myself, before sanity could return, before I could remember all the reasons this was wrong.
She tasted like wine and desperation and everything I'd been denying myself for five endless years. Her mouth opened beneath mine, a soft gasp escaping that I swallowed greedily. No more restraint. No more control. No more pretending I didn't want her with a hunger that bordered on madness.
My hands tangled in her hair, tilting her head back so I could devour her more completely. She moaned into my mouth, and the sound went straight to my c**k, making it throb painfully against my zipper. I needed her. Now. Right f*****g now.
I gripped her waist and lifted her onto the metal interrogation table in one smooth motion. The dress, that sinful red dress, was in my way. I grabbed the fabric and pulled, hearing it tear, not caring, needing her bare beneath me.
"Sebastian," she gasped as cool air hit her exposed skin.
"Tell me to stop," I demanded, my hands already working on what remained of her dress, peeling it away like wrapping paper. "Tell me right now if you don't want this."
This was her out. Her last chance to end this before we crossed a line we could never uncross. Her eyes met mine, blazing with the same desperate need I felt. "Don't you dare stop."
Whatever fragile thread of control I'd been clinging to snapped completely. I yanked the dress down her body, taking her torn panties with it. She sat on the table in just her bra, her skin flushed, her chest heaving. Beautiful. Perfect. Mine.
"Do you have any idea what you've done to me?" I growled, my hands running up her thighs, feeling her tremble beneath my touch. "How many nights I've laid awake thinking about this? About you?"
"Show me," she breathed, reaching for my shirt, pulling at buttons with shaking fingers.
I grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head with one hand. "No. You don't touch yet. You don't get to have control. Not after what you've put me through."
Her pupils dilated, her breathing quickening. She liked this. Liked being at my mercy. Good. Because I planned to take my time making her pay for every sleepless night, every moment of tortured desire.
I leaned down, my teeth grazing her neck, biting hard enough to mark. She cried out, arching into me, her legs wrapping around my waist.
"You're mine," I said against her skin, my free hand unhooking her bra, freeing her breasts. "Say it."
"I'm, "
"Say it!" I demanded, my thumb circling her n****e, feeling it harden beneath my touch.
"I'm yours," she whimpered. "God, Sebastian, I'm yours."
I released her wrists long enough to strip off my shirt, then my belt, my pants. She watched with hooded eyes, her gaze traveling over my body, lingering on my c**k straining against my boxers.
"Touch yourself," I ordered, stepping back slightly. "Show me how wet you are for me."
Her hand moved between her legs without hesitation, her fingers sliding through her folds. She was soaked, dripping, ready for me.
"That's it," I encouraged, my voice rough. "Let me see how much you want this."
She circled her c**t, her head falling back, small whimpering sounds escaping her lips. But when she got too close, when her breathing changed, I grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away.
"Not yet. You don't come until I say you can."
"Please," she begged, her hips rolling, seeking friction.
"Please what?"
"Please f**k me. I need, I need, "
I pushed my boxers down, freeing my c**k. It was hard, aching, precum already leaking from the tip. Five years of celibacy, five years of denying myself any pleasure, and now I was about to bury myself in the one woman I shouldn't want.
I positioned myself at her entrance, the head of my c**k pressing against her wetness. She was so hot, so ready. I could slide in with one thrust, take what I wanted.
But I needed to hear it one more time.
"Last chance," I said, my voice strained with the effort of holding back. "Tell me no and I'll stop. Tell me to walk away."
"f**k me," she demanded, her nails digging into my shoulders. "Right now" Hard. I want to feel you for days."
I slammed into her in one brutal thrust.
She screamed, her back arching off the table, her p***y clenching around me so tight I nearly came right then.
Fuck. f**k. Nothing had ever felt this good. This is right. I pulled out almost completely, then drove back in, establishing a punishing rhythm. The table scraped against the floor with each thrust, the sound mixing with her moans, my grunts, the wet slap of flesh on flesh.
"Yes," she cried out, her legs tightening around me. "God, yes, just like that."
I gripped her hips hard enough to bruise, angling her so I could go deeper, hit that spot that made her gasp. Her breasts bounced with each thrust, perfect and full and begging for my mouth.
I leaned down, capturing a n****e between my teeth, biting, sucking, marking her. She tangled her fingers in my hair, holding me against her.
"You feel so good," I groaned against her skin. "So f*****g tight. Like you were made for my cock."
"More," she begged. "Harder. Please, Sebastian, I need more."
I gave her what she wanted. Gave her everything I had. Five years of pent-up desire, frustration, loneliness poured into every thrust. I f****d her like a man possessed, like this was my last moment on earth and I needed to make it count.
She met me thrust for thrust, her hips rising to take me deeper. The sounds she made were obscene, desperate, driving me closer to the edge.
"Touch yourself," I commanded. "Make yourself come on my cock."
Her hand flew between her legs, fingers working her c**t in tight circles. I felt her p***y start to flutter around me, and felt her entire body tense.
"That's it," I encouraged, my thrusts becoming erratic, losing rhythm. "Come for me. Let me feel it."
She shattered with a scream that echoed off the walls, her orgasm ripping through her with an intensity that made her shake. Her p***y clamped down on me like a vice, milking my c**k, demanding I follow her over the edge.
"Serenye," I groaned, and then I was coming, emptying myself inside her with a force that made stars explode behind my eyes. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me, more intense than anything I'd ever experienced.
More intense than even with Eleanor. The thought sobered me instantly, guilt crashing through the afterglow. I pulled out slowly, both of us hissing at the sensitivity. My c*m dripped out of her, obscene evidence of what we'd just done. What the f**k had I just done?
I'd f****d a girl twenty years younger than me. My daughter's best friend. My son's mate. A girl I suspected of lying about everything, of possibly being sent to destroy me.
And it had been the best s*x of my entire life.
I grabbed my shirt from the floor, using it to clean her gently. She winced, still trembling, her body wracked with aftershocks.
That's when I noticed the tears streaming down her face.
"Did I hurt you?" I demanded, panic flooding through me. Had I been too rough? Too aggressive? "Serenye, talk to me. Did I, "
"No," she whispered, but more tears fell. "Yes. I don't know."
I pulled her into my arms, cradling her against my chest. She felt small suddenly, fragile, nothing like the seductress who'd been tormenting me for weeks.
"Tell me," I said softly, stroking her hair. "Tell me what's wrong."
She buried her face in my shoulder, her body shaking with silent sobs. "I shouldn't have, we shouldn't have, this wasn't supposed to, "
"I know." I held her tighter, my own emotions a chaotic mess I couldn't begin to untangle. "I know."
We stayed like that for several minutes, her crying, me holding her, both of us trying to process what had just happened.
Finally, she pulled back, wiping at her eyes. "I need to get dressed."
I helped her down from the table, watching as she tried to salvage her torn dress. It was useless. I stripped off my jacket, draping it over her shoulders. It swallowed her small frame, falling to mid-thigh.
"We should, " I started, not sure how to finish that sentence. A knock on the door interrupted whatever I was about to say.
We both froze.
"Dad?" Lyanna's voice came through, worried, concerned. "Is Serenye in there? I heard what happened tonight. I'm worried about her. Can I, can I come in?"
Serenye's eyes went wide with panic, meeting mine.
My daughter was on the other side of that door. And her best friend was standing there wearing nothing but my jacket, my c*m still dripping down her thighs, smelling like s*x and my scent all over her. There
was no way to hide what we'd done. No way to explain this. Fuck..
- Writer
