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My body still thrums with pleasure as he grins down at me and withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his lips and licking them clean, like he did every time in the past few weeks. But we never went further than this.

“I guess this means you liked the costume?” I ask.

He barks out a laugh. “Liked it? I fucking loved it. Although…” His eyes roam over my disheveled appearance. “I think I prefer you like this.”

My cheeks burn hotter, but I force myself to hold his gaze. If we’re doing this, no more hiding. I need to show him that I’m sure.

“So what happens now?” I ask.

“Now, I’m going to make you mine.” He runs his fingers along my collarbone, between my breasts, and down to my stomach, igniting little sparks along the way. “Make you scream my name until you forget anyone else exists.”

My breath hitches.

“We’ll take it slow.” He brushes his thumb over my lower lip. “And if you want to stop at any point, just say the word.”

The second I nod, he captures my mouth in a kiss that steals the breath from my lungs, and I wind my arms around his neck, tugging him closer.

“Sebastian, please.” I barely recognize my own voice, breathy and pleading.

He settles between my thighs, the hard length of him pressing against my center. “Fuck.” He groans, his forehead falling to my shoulder. “Tell me what you want, princess. I need to hear you say it.”

This is happening. I cup his cheeks, guiding his face close to mine to meet his heated gaze. This close, I can even see the flecks of gold in the green of his eyes.

“I want this and you, Sebastian. I want you,” I whisper.

“Where?” He rolls his hips in a slow, tantalizing grind that sends a jolt of electricity through my core.

“I-Inside me.”

“Good girl.” He positions himself at my entrance.

The tip of him nudges against me, and then he starts to push, ever so slowly, stretching me around him. Unfamiliar feelings course through me at the intrusion. It’s… It’s a mix of too muchand not enough. I squeeze my eyes shut, and a quiet cry parts my lips.

He pauses. “Does it hurt?”

“A little,” I say. “But please don’t stop.”

“Try to relax.” He continues with shallow, careful thrusts, easing himself deeper with each one until he’s fully seated inside me.

It feels like I’m stretched to the brim, and my insides contract as if trying to push him out or, rather, keep him inside. The fullness is overwhelming, and I’m acutely aware of every inch of him.

He brushes his lips over mine. “You okay?”

I shift my hips experimentally, marveling at the spark of something more than pain flaring inside me. “Go on, please.”

He takes one of my nipples into his mouth, caressing it with his lips and tongue, and resumes the slow, gentle rhythm, allowing me to adjust over time. The initial pinch of pain and stretch soon gives way to sparks of pleasure, and each deliberate thrust elicits a moan from deep within me.

“You feel incredible.” His voice is strained.

I moan softly in response, beyond words. All I can feel or think about is him—his touch and his hard length stretching me so deliciously.

I open my eyes and look at him, taking in the sight of his flushed cheeks, the beads of water on his forehead, and the way his jaw is clenched. Despite the care he’s taking, I can sense himholding back, and as amazing as it already feels, I crave more. I want to see him lose control. I want to feel all of him.

“Sebastian.” I lift my hips, taking him deeper.

He groans, his hips faltering. “Princess.”

“I can handle it.”

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