Page 149 of Bastian

Winter Storm by V.M | Materials used: Sea Glass

“No way! If you look closely, you can see tiny snowflakes and stars inside of the glass, daddy! How cool is that!” Ella presses her face to the glass, looking as enamored with the piece as I am.

“Very.” Sebastian sounds amused from behind me. Turning around, I face him.

“You did this?” I ask softly.

“I did.” He nods, proud of himself and cocky as ever.

“Why?”

“Because I love you.” He shrugs as if that’s reason enough. I guess for him, it is. Then his blue eyes shine with laughter. “And because I couldn’t get a statue of you placed outside the White House. I tried, but trust me I am not giving up on that.”

Crazy man…

Shaking my head in disbelief I say, “Why sea glass? The name? I-I don’t know what to say…” No one has ever made me feel as beautiful, powerful, and as strong as the man before me, yet he makes me weak at the same time. I feel everything when I am with him when before I didn’t feel much.

One strong arm pulls me closer while his hand falls on my belly. “The sea has always reminded me of you, darling. The moon and the stars do, as well. That’s why I had the artist incorporate the snowflakes and the stars in the piece.” I look into Sebastian’s eyes as he continues. “The sea is where I first knew you would forever be a part of my life. I knew I loved you then, on that beach back in Malibu. I knew you were meant to be mine. Hell, I knew before then. Before I knew you, I loved you, Arianna.” Thud. Thud. Thud. My heart will forever be this man’s bitch. That’s for sure. “Sea glass is a symbol of renewal and healing. A metaphor for life, and you Arianna Parisi have not only healed my heart but you’ve given me life. First, when you crash-landed into my world, and now with my child inside of you.” His smile turns soft while his eyes grow intense. “You are my life. You are mine and with this piece, everyone will see what I see every time I look at you.” He finishes off leaving me speechless. Because how can I top that? Ironic how I always manage to find the right words to sass someone, or when I’m writing an article for my newspaper, but I never have the right words for Sebastian.

That’s what this man does to me.

I try to hold the tears even when I know he notices my teary eyes, I step closer to him until there’s no space between us and whisper. “I’m glad you’re mine, Tyrant.” And I am.

“Mind, body, soul, and heart.” Pinching my chin between his fingers, he forces my full attention on him. His blue eyes glitter with my ultimate favorite: possessiveness. “Say you’re mine.”

Sliding my palms up his chest, over his shoulders, and through his soft black hair, I rasp, “I am yours, Sebastian. Always.”

“Never forget it.” He breathes out and then swoops down, and I rise to my tiptoes to meet him. Our lips meet in the middle. He kisses me senselessly and I feel it down to my bones.

His love.

His devotion.

Him.

My Sebastian.

Pulling apart, I open my eyes slowly to find him staring down at me with the most breathtaking smile. The smile that tells me that all is good in our world.

Because as long as Sebastian keeps smiling at me like that, no one can touch me.

No one can touch us.

“Mommy. Daddy! Look at this furry little thing. It looks like Cupcake!” Ella screeches, making us both laugh at her antics. “Can I have another dog? I think my baby sister would want a puppy!”

“No more dogs.” I snap at Sebastian before he agrees because I know him. He was about to give in and get her another mutt.

“We will see.” He grins, before leaning down and taking my lips in his.

Then we spend an hour exploring the exhibit and taking photos of every single art piece with our two babies between us until Ella decides she has had enough fun for today and crashes in her father’s arms.

* * *

“Don’t be dramatic, Sebastian. It’s not an attractive trait, you know.” I inspect my nails, trying to act as if I don’t find jealous Sebastian hilarious and extremely adorable.

He was on me before I could blink. One second, he was standing across the room from me, and the next, he was in my space. His face inches from mine. His short beard tickles my chest. Damn, his beard really does it for me.

I don’t know if it’s because it makes him look older and distinguished or because it feels really good when it’s between—

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