Page 40 of Heart of a Devil

I raise my eyebrows at him. “And has it? Ended?”

“You tell me, sweetheart—you’re the one yawning.” He stands and holds out his hands. After he helps me up, I lean into him, exhausted but as thrilled as he is. He kisses me lightly on the forehead and, without a word, scoops me up into his arms. He cradles me against his chest exactly the way he did that first night we met, back at the cottage. This time, though, everything feels so different. This time, when I look into his eyes, I’m not dreaming—I actually do feel safe.

“Bedtime?” he asks.

Reaching up to stroke his cheek, I nod and smile.

He carries me up the stairs and into his room, and instead of throwing me down so hard I bounce, he lays me carefully on the mattress. The sheets smell of him, and I stretch out, loving the feeling of being in his home. In his bed.

He takes my shoes off and crawls up next to me. “Turn over,” he says gently, and I twist to my side so he can slide down the zipper of my dress and ease it off me. Next come my panties and my bra, and before long, I lie before him completely naked. He pulls back the covers and helps me get under them, his every move and gesture so gentle, so kind, that I feel cherished beyond belief.

He sheds his suit and climbs in next to me. We both turn onto our sides and gaze into each other’s eyes. I can’t quite explain how I feel in this moment. How precious this thing is between us. How perfectly he says everything without saying a word.

I slide my hand along the side of his face, stroking his beard and caressing his cheekbones. He presses his fingers over mine, then holds them up to his mouth to kiss.

“I love you, Lauren. I’m not just falling for you—I’ve already fallen.”

I move closer, needing to feel his big body against mine. “I love you too, Seb. I love you, and I want you. I’m pretty damn scared that I might even need you.”

His eyes blaze, and he pulls me tight, kissing me in a way he’s never kissed me before. It’s gentle, reverent, his lips demanding nothing more than contact. I open my mouth and let my tongue tangle lazily with his, losing myself in the sweetness of it all. We kiss for so long, pouring so much feeling into every touch. From the feel of him pressed against me, it’s obvious that he’s ready—he’s as hard as ever—but this feels different. It feels magical.

He caresses me and strokes me and dusts light kisses on my skin, taking his time and treating me like I’m made of delicate porcelain. I murmur against his skin, delighting in every tender touch. It’s the complete opposite of what happened earlier in the night, but every bit as consuming. When his fingers finally slide between my legs, I’m more than ready. He languidly rubs the pad of his thumb across my swollen bud, his eyes fixed on mine, and I sigh at the feeling. At the connection.

“Seb, I want you inside me. Take me over the edge with you.”

“Always, baby—always.”

I wrap my legs around his waist, and he slips into me, whispering my name as he sinks deeper.

Our rhythm builds, slow and soft and sensual, bodies entwined, breath mingled, eyes locked. When I come, it takes my breath away, sends me tumbling into an unknown land of pleasure that isn’t merely physical. He quickly follows, mumbling words of love as he finds his own release.

He falls down against me, his head on my chest, and I hold him close, tears of happiness stinging the backs of my eyes.

Seb and I have fucked, and we have fought. But that felt like the first time we made love.

I can’t get enough of the wild sex he’s introduced me to, and I’m always going to be up for a chase, a capture, a dark anddisturbing trip into the taboo side of my desires. But this was something else. It was, in its own way, even more spectacular.

I stroke his hair, feeling the emotion run through him too. We’ve allowed ourselves to be vulnerable, physically and emotionally, and the orgasm I just had was slower, deeper, than anything I’ve encountered before. A whole-body experience that reached all the way to my heart and soul.

I’m going soft, I realize. One night with Seb, and I’m turning to mush for the man. Maybe this is why I’ve been so scared of sleepovers. I knew, deep down, that Seb was different. I never felt this way about my ex-husband, and I’ve certainly never felt this way about any other man. For all of my surface confidence, I never had enough belief in anyone or anything to fully trust or commit.

Carlos started that process early on, and my experiences with men later in life only served to confirm that I was safer alone. Safe is, I’m starting to suspect, overrated—especially when compared to how I feel right now. At peace. Lying here with my man, enjoying the simple miracle of loving and being loved in return.

Chapter

Twenty-One

LAUREN

Iwake up in Sebastian’s arms, and it’s glorious. Sunlight streams through his bedroom window, birds are singing in the trees, and all is well in our world. I stretch a little, not wanting to wake him, enjoying the luxury of gazing at his sleeping face. His hair is tousled, and one meaty leg has kicked itself out of the covers, his thigh thrown possessively over my body. He looks so peaceful, and I feel a rush of love toward him that threatens to overwhelm me.

This is all new for me, every single second of it, and I need to try to enjoy the ride instead of looking for ways to get off. I stroke his hair and place a soft kiss on his exposed shoulder, then carefully extricate myself from his embrace. With all the skill of a highly trained ninja, I manage to slide out without disturbing him, and I pull the covers up to keep him cozy. Pulling on his shirt from last night, I make my way to the bathroom, loving the feel of the soft fabric on my bare skin, the scent of his cologne, the smell of the man who wore it. It’s like wearing Seb himself, and I can’t get the stupid grin off my face as I tiptoe downstairs.

Once I’m in his kitchen, I make a coffee, looking around his well-stocked kitchen and smiling at what a man of contrasts he is. Tough, protective, violent—but also someone who has freshavocados in his fruit bowl, shiitake mushrooms in his fridge, and a chef-level spice rack. I settle down at the table and sip my drink, unable to get the goofy smile off my face. My fingers toy with the collar of his shirt and now I’m wondering if I should go upstairs and wake him up in a very special way. Nothing says good morning quite like a blowjob.

“There you are. I thought you’d done a runner already.” Seb walks into the room in nothing but his boxers, and I take a moment to appreciate the view. I think he has the best thighs I’ve ever seen, and my eyes drift from them to his already thickening cock.

“Why would I do that?” I ask innocently. “That doesn’t sound like me at all. I was actually about to come back upstairs and serve you coffee and a blowjob.”

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