Very Twisted Things (Briarwood Academy 3)

“Our night isn’t over,” he said.

“I disagree.” I nodded at the obvious sunrise. “Even the birds are chirping.”

“Until I see the full sun with my eyes, it’s not over. We are not over.”

“Oh, so we’re just going to disregard the obvious fact that it is the next day?”

“You talk way too much, V.” And then he kissed me hard, his tongue exploring my mouth as his hands cupped my ass and pulled me against his already hard cock.

Like a magnet to steel, his lips devoured mine, eating me up, taking everything I had until I was breathless. But I didn’t need air. All I needed was him. His lips, his tongue, his teeth. I returned his fire, my hands clasped around his neck, hanging on.

“You. This. The sunrise. It’s fucking perfect,” he said gutturally as I went to my knees and took him in my mouth. He was too big to take in at once, so I worked him in gently, licking the sides, pressing kisses to his skin. My tongue dabbed at his head and sucked his length, stroking the shaft with my hands. I moaned against him, making him quiver.

“I don’t want to come like that, V. I want inside you.” He pulled me up and swept me up in his arms and carried me over to the swing and set me down on my feet.

“More swing sex?” I murmured as he ran his mouth down my neck and captured my nipple between his lips and pulled.

“You complaining?” he mumbled against my breast.

“Never,” I squeaked incoherently as he kissed his way down to my stomach. He lavished attention on me with his mouth, finding the soft skin behind my knees, the dimples on my lower back. He worshipped me, pleasing only me, and I watched, stroking his hair, my hands tracing his tattoos. My heart ached to tell him how I felt, but I was scared.

Later after I was a quivering mess, he stood and nodded at the swing. “Put your hands on the chains and bend over.”

I blinked. “What? Are you going to spank me?”

His eyes went heavy-lidded. “Do you want me to? You like that?”

“No. Maybe? I don’t know.” I felt a flush start at my toes and work its way up to my face.

He chuckled at my embarrassment and kissed me gently. “V, all I want right now is to fuck you from behind.”

“Why?” My heart thundered at the image.

“So I can see every detail of you wrapped around my cock and use my hands—anywhere I want.”

I grasped the sides and bent over, presenting my backside to him. He let out a low groan and shuffled around, taking a few steps back to look at me. Then, he moved forward and ran his hands down my spine and back up, tracing my name again.

His chest heaved. “V,” he said softly, saying my name like a benediction.

I watched over my shoulder as he curved his hand over my bottom and slid his finger inside me. I closed my eyes. Yes, yes, yes. Heat flooded my face, and I cried out his name, my body going limp, moving with the steady rhythm of his hand. My body tingled, needing more, needing him in me.

My eyes flew open when he spread my legs further apart, his fingers ghosting over my clit and then easing back inside me. “You’re so ready…you make me drunk with need,” he said in a gravelly voice.

“Hurry,” I said. “Please don’t tease me.”

He scrambled around in the pocket of his jeans, his hands visibly trembling until he found what he wanted and rolled the condom on. He kissed my lower back, his scruff the perfect roughness. “I should take you back to the blanket, and make love to you there, but I can’t.”

I shivered. “Yes, here.” Anywhere. I let out a sharp moan as he lined up behind me and slid in, my wetness and the angle helping him go deeper than he’d been last night. He stirred around inside me and then started a slow pumping. I bent my head to watch as our bodies melded. His hands were busy too, ravaging my body, spreading me and touching me in taboo places I’d never dreamed, his fingers knowing just the right thing, just the perfect touch to make me whimper with need. He stoked my desire, he built it up and up, igniting me until I wanted to scream.

“Never like this before, V. Never,” he growled as he held on to my hips and pumped, his tempo speeding up.

Sensation built. Fire burned. I loved.

Fireworks went off in my head, and I called his name when I went over. His own body tightened and swelled, the friction the perfect balance of pleasure and pain. He roared, the noise reverberating against my skin as he bent over and buried his face in my neck.

Our hearts beat in sync, nature hummed, and the world was right.

Panting, I gazed back at him and realized that fear had chased me for too long when all I needed to do was be brave. Just this one time.

“I love you,” I whispered. “Sebastian, I love you, I love you, I love you.”

With every molecule, every atom, every tiny piece of me. Insanely. Madly. Completely. The truth was, he’d sparked life in me the day I saw him move in, and I’d tried to harden my heart against love, but in the end my dad’s sacrifice had been too loud to stifle. Sebastian’s pull toward me had been too strong, his connection too visceral.

I held on to the chains, chest heaving as he withdrew and took several of his own deep breaths. Finally, he came around to face me, unclasped my hands from the chains and gathered me in his arms. “Thank you, V.” And then he kissed me. Sweetly.

Oh.

We dressed and walked hand-in-hand back to the blanket where he got a fire going. As the seconds stretched into minutes, and he didn’t comment on my confession, my shoulders tightened and cement settled in my stomach.