Badd Motherf*cker(45)
“Yes, Sebastian, fuck, you feel so good. Come for me. Keep fucking me.”
His thrusts resumed, but his mouth never left mine. I dug my nails into his back and dragged them down his flesh, his orgasm spurring another of my own, his cock sliding against me just right, the tip digging into my G-spot, his release driving my own. He snarled and grunted as he fucked me; I felt him spasm inside me and came with him, clawing at him all the harder.
“Look at me, Sebastian,” I breathed. “Look at me while you come.”
He met my gaze with his, crawled up onto the bed and knelt between my thighs and cupped my hips to pull me closer as he pounded into me through his orgasm, and his eyes never left mine, widening as he came, brows lowering, jaw clenching.
“Fuck, oh fuck—Dru…Jesus,” he gasped, “I didn’t—I didn’t know—”
He fucked me deep and stayed there, flexing to dig deeper, words cutting off into another primal growl. I felt him fill the condom, thrust deep, and then when he was done he thrust again through the aftershocks, burying his face in my breasts. I cupped the back of his head and writhed with his fluttering pulsing shallow thrusts.
“What didn’t you know, Sebastian?” I asked.
“That anything could feel that way.” His voice was muffled against my tits. “That fucking could—” He stopped, seeming unsure of how to put it.
“Feel like so much more than just fucking?” I finished for him.
He grunted. “Yeah. Exactly.”
He wasn’t looking at me anymore, I realized. I wiggled out from underneath him, reaching between us to make sure the condom stayed on him. I sat on my heels and stared down at him as he lay on his belly, face buried in his arm.
“Hey, Sebastian.”
He rolled to his back and threw his forearm across his forehead, chest heaving, eyes closed. “Yeah, sweet thing.”
“What happened to ‘wild thing’?” I asked. “I liked that better.”
He smirked. “Gimme a few minutes to recuperate, and I’ll show you.”
“Look at me,” I demanded.
His eyes opened, and I saw the distance in them. “What?”
“Now I’m losing you,” I said.
“How do you mean?”
I lay down on the bed beside him, rolled on my side to face him. “That was intense, yeah?”
He grunted an affirmative. “Pretty fuckin’ intense, yeah.”
“So why are you acting like this?”
“Like what?” His eyes were on mine, but the mask was still in place.
“Like this was a hook-up and you’re just waiting for me to leave.”
“Well, what’re you expecting? Cuddles?”
That stung. I felt my eyes water. I rolled away from him, sliding off the bed. I snagged his white T-shirt off the floor and tugged it on, gathered my sodden clothes and opened his door, pausing in his open doorway.
“Something like that, yeah,” I said, trying to hide the hurt.
I stepped as quietly as I could out of his room, hoping to escape Zane’s notice.
Which I should’ve known was futile. He was behind the counter in the kitchen, rummaging in the fridge. He straightened when he saw me, and his gaze raked over my body, covered in nothing but Sebastian’s too-big T-shirt. Then up to my face.
“He ain’t the ‘something like that’ type, sweetheart.” Zane twisted the top off a bottle of beer. “Sorry to be the one to break it to ya.”
“How the fuck would you know?” I asked, shoving open the door to the room I’d slept in the night before.
“Because none of us are, and we all learned from him.”
“Well fuck me,” I said.
“Noooope,” Zane drawled. “Bast already did. Makes you a no-fly zone for the rest of us.”
I growled in irritation. Shut the door to my temporary room behind me, tossed my wet clothes onto the floor and sank onto the bed, fighting tears.
What had I expected? Either from him or myself? I’d known going in that I wouldn’t be able to just fuck him and not get emotional about it. I was an emotional wreck, after all. I’d just been cheated on, rejected. I’d wasted fifteen thousand dollars I’d never get back on a wedding that never happened. No wedding. No husband. No honeymoon.
And now I was in Ketchikan fucking Alaska half in the bag for a sexy, tattooed bartender I barely knew, a man I’d just met, fucked once, and was totally ruined over.
How could I ever fuck any other man ever again and not compare him to the way Sebastian had just fucked me? He’d set an impossible to beat standard, and then had just shut down, shut me out.
Rejected me all over again.
Why?
Because it had started smacking of involvement.