Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 23382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 117(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 117(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
He’s invaded my subconscious like a brain tumor.
He turns to face me with a burning need in his eyes that sucks the breath from my soul.
“Tell me I’ll get to see you in this.”
Blunt and straight to the point. So like Sebastian.
“I’m wearing it to the ball.”
“Ah, yes. The Astor Birthday Bash of the Year.” His infamous mocking tone permeates the air between us. “Are you wearing it for me, or for the chancellor?” The way he’s looking at me, expectation in his gaze, demands an answer.
“For you.” I force the confession out as I saunter over to him. “Does that make you happy?” We’re only inches apart now, and the heat of his nearness makes me weak. Still, I stand my ground.
“You don’t want to know what makes me happy.” He grabs me by the shoulders. “But here’s a clue—it has nothing to do with a dress.”
False bravado is my only defense against him, and I force myself to hold his challenging gaze, even though his hands burn through me like fire. My heart thumps at a furious pace. I’m sure he hears it.
“What do you want then?” Strength colors my tone, words falling from my lips with a deceitful, steady cadence. If he notices the tremor in my limbs, he doesn’t call me on it.
“What I want has never mattered. We’re all victims to the tyranny of tradition and fucking superstition.”
“Why don’t you leave? Break the cycle for the House of Leo.” Maybe the entire tower would crumble from the missing link that is Sebastian Stone.
“Don’t you think I want to?” He pushes forward two steps, turning me toward the wall to the right of us.
“Do you?”
“This place has a way of keeping its prisoners here.”
His raw vulnerability digs under my defenses, and before I second-guess myself, I let instinct guide my mouth. At the first touch of my lips on his, he freezes. Three agonizing beats of my heart pass before he lets out a warm breath against my mouth.
“Novalee.” My name is a tortured whisper on his breath. He grips me by the hair, but still, he doesn’t take the kiss beyond an aching tease.
“Sebastian,” I answer, darting my tongue along his lower lip.
Slowly, he backs me into the wall, planting his hands on either side of my face, and I’m reminded of the first time I saw him paint. The way he dominated me in the hallway that day sent me aflutter and now is no different.
He retreats by two inches, and I dart my tongue out again, capturing the focus of his heated gaze.
“Since I’m going to marry you, don’t you think it’s time I tasted you?”
My lips part, but no words come out. Only shallow breaths rife with longing escape my mouth.
He presses a finger against my lips. “I’m not talking about a kiss.”
I’m not sure what he means until he drops to his knees and reaches underneath my skirt to tug at my panties. He pulls them down my thighs, and I can’t hold back a gasp. Silky lace surrounds my ankles.
He orders me to step out of the fabric, then he looks up at me with pure desire in his eyes. “Spread your legs.”
Oh God. As my thighs part, the bareness of my pussy sends a shiver down my limbs. Gooseflesh rises on my skin, but the space between my legs grows hotter by the second.
“Hold your skirt up and don’t let go.”
Hands shaking, I grip the light cotton material and raise it above my hips, exposing myself to him.
“Did Liam put his mouth on you?”
“Yes.”
“Did he make you come?”
I nod, unable to verbalize my own name at this point.
“How long has it been since you came?”
“Since Liam.”
“Jesus Christ, Novalee. No wonder your pussy’s begging for my tongue.”
His words send a sharp visual spiraling through my mind, and a pleading whimper escapes me. I lose the strength in my knees, and before I melt into a hot, wet puddle on the floor, he grips my thighs, fingers pressing into my skin as he holds me upright.
Our eyes lock. Mine are begging. His are smug.
His tongue runs across his lower lip, and I remember how that lip tasted moments ago, as light and brief as our almost-kiss was.
Just a hint of something sweet.
A tease of something addicting.
Something undeniably Sebastian.
“Do you want me?” It’s the most earnest question he’s ever asked me, and maybe I’ve lost my mind because I’m certain doubt blankets his tone.
“I want you.”
No hesitation. No second-guessing or analyzing the hurtful things he’s said and done. It might as well be the two of us alone in this tower, because my existence narrows to the man kneeling between my legs as he puts his mouth on me.
“Oh!”
The tip of his tongue circles my opening before gliding to my clit, where he turns me into a trembling mass of bones driven by need. Fisting my skirt, I let my head lull against the wall, lids fluttering closed, and lose myself to the sensory overload of Sebastian’s mouth between my legs.