Page 42 of Twins to Tame Him

“It’s okay, Sebastian. Right now, all I need is to be what you need. My entire life, I have given so much of myself to people who didn’t care. You... I would give you anything.”

“I want you so much,” he said, the tips of his fingers still cold as they dug into her willing flesh. “I’m afraid I might be rough...”

“I want you rough. And gentle. And all the speeds in between,” she said, throwing her arm behind her in the dark and wrapping it around his neck.

When she turned her head, his mouth was there, ferociously demanding and desperately hungry. Just the way she needed him. His kiss was hot and hard and rough, his tongue stroking against her, his fingers on her chin holding her for his assault.

Laila moaned when his fingers snuck under her tank top and pinched her nipple. She pushed herself into him shamelessly, begging against his mouth for more. Protests fell from her tingling lips when he deserted her mouth, but his hands were all over her and she arched into his touch. For days, weeks, she’d been trying to nurture her hope, to fan it with tiny sparks that she felt living around his family, around his things, and yet it had only left her desolate. Cold.

Now, she was burning, and she wanted to go up in flames if it meant she could have him.

Soon, he’d pulled her top out of the way, baring her to him.

“I need to see you,” came his ragged whisper, and then soft light from the lamp hit her closed eyes.

She kept them closed, too eager and loath to see his expression, afraid that her own hopes might dash her to the ground all over again.

His breath was a feather-light whisper against her breasts, her nipples instantly tightening. Then she felt his tongue lash her nipple in slow, tentative strokes and then, when she buried her fingers in his hair and moaned, firm, fast circles that had her panting, and then his mouth sucked her in and he suckled deep and her eyes flew open.

Pupils blown so wide that she barely saw the gray, his mouth wet around her breast, he looked like her every fantasy come true. Dark circles clung to his eyes and his mouth had that pinched look, but all she saw was his hunger. For her. His need for her.

“More, Sebastian, please,” she said, arching her spine into his warmth. “Don’t make me wait anymore.”

He rubbed his nose down her belly, whispering words into her skin, and then he stilled.

She looked down and saw him swallow at the sight of her wispy lace panties. “They’re impractical and they ride up my ass half the time and I’m not used to them,” she said, breathing hard. “But I wore them for you. In case you showed up. Every night, I take a shower, rub myself all over in some freaking expensive oil that comes with being your woman and dress in the flimsiest of clothes with the hope you’ll come to me here and that you’ll see me and that you’ll admit that you love me a little.”

His teeth pulled at the fragile lace before he kissed the line of her pelvis, rubbed his nose at the fold of her thigh and hip, digging his teeth into the sensitive skin of her inner thigh until she was marked in his ink. A sliver of pain to punctuate the pleasure. Laila curled her fingers in his hair and tugged roughly, just as he tore them off her, and then his mouth was there.

“You taste divine,” he said, his words a rumble that caused vibrations against her folds. “I remember your taste. I remember how you sounded that night. I remembered how you looked at me.”

“Please, Sebastian,” she said, finding no shame in begging. “You made me wait too long already.”

His fingers and his lips and his filthy whispers, he drove her hard and fast and rough and so high that Laila flew up and up and away and then she fell from that height, hard. Her climax was a vortex of sensation, thrashing her around and around. And he didn’t stop tormenting her.

His tongue licked at her clit, his fingers kept pumping inside her until Laila went from one orgasm to the next with no break or breath in between and her entire body was nothing but a mass of sensation.

“I forgot how you can do that,” he said, coming up and smiling, his sensuous lips damp with her arousal.

“Inside me, now,” she said, the words barely formed. “I started the pill.”

He swallowed and then that hard, lean, beautiful body was rising over her. His mouth found hers in a soft, tender kiss as if he knew she would break apart at the tiniest of pressures and his damp, hair-roughened chest dragged over her sensitive, throbbing nipples in a graze that sent need flickering into a spark again and then he was stretching her thighs indecently wide, pushing her right knee into her chest, and Laila watched him—his intense expression, his tied brows and his swollen lips and his unwavering focus—and then his gaze met hers.

He thrust into her in one smooth, deep move, lodging himself so deeply as he’d done that first time that she’d never been able to get him out. And now, she didn’t want to.

She thrust her hips up and circled them, desperate for friction, and he cursed and swallowed.

And then he was moving in and out in a slow, deep rhythm, their fingers laced, and their gazes tethered together, and Laila’s selfish mind and deprived body began the dance all over again.

“I’m going to take you fast and hard,” he said, against her lips, and Laila whispered another please.

And then he upped their rhythm.

Each stroke hit that magical point, each thrust drove her further along the line of bliss, but Laila kept her eyes on him, this beautiful, rugged artist of hers, who felt so much and who tried so hard to not love her and she wanted to say the words now.

Clasping his cheek, she said, “I love you, Sebastian.”

And as if he meant to reward her declaration, he took her deeper, dragging the ridge of his abdomen over her clit, and Laila fell over.

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