Page 14 of Heart Break Her

I press in closer, dragging my hips against his erection and feeling it light a fire between my legs as I do it.

“I think—" I trace my fingers along his jaw, still in shock that I’m touching Sebastian Kane, “for a man always surrounded by people, you still seem lonely.”

He processes my words by pressing his forehead against mine and looking into my eyes, and I realize no one’s looked at me like Sebastian does. Curiosity that turns me completely transparent.

I’ve had boyfriends. I’ve had sex. But anything I felt in those moments, with those men, pales in comparison to one look from Sebastian.

You’re just another warm body for a man who keeps a collection of them.Don’t let him pull you under.

The whispers in the back of my head remind me of the dangers of who Sebastian is.

This is why good girls don’t get involved with rock stars, much less guys like Sebastian Kane. We sense impending pain from miles away and know to steer clear. My heart doesn’t have enough tread on it to survive roads like him for longer than one night. Something I remind myself of as quickly as I push the thought away.

I dip my mouth down to his, pausing an inch from it and feeling everything in his exhale. Weightlessness. Breathlessness. Escape. Pressing my lips to his, I close the final inch and feel any part of me that was hesitating slip away.

Sebastian pulls my chest flush with his, my nipples hardening at the closeness. His large palms slide along the sliver of exposed skin at my lower back. He drags his hands down and cups my ass, squeezing just enough for me to dig my hips against him, and the slow build of tension starts to call out.

Grabbing onto the underside of my thighs, he stands up with me in his arms. Carrying me across the suite and toward a door I’m certain is the bedroom. And I want him to. To take me, to have me. I want to be a girl that gives herself to Sebastian Kane. Knowing there may be many, but in this moment I still feel like the only one.

He’s the sun, blinding me to anything else and making me want to orbit around him.

We fall onto the bed when we reach it, his body pressing down on mine. The sheets are unmade and messy, and they smell like him. Leather, mint, and spice all around. On my skin, in my head.

He props himself up on his elbows, hovering over my face, watching me pant like I’m frantic for him.

Maybe I am.

Maybe he is as well.

His movements are slow, but purposeful. Sliding one hand down to my bare stomach, he presses his flat palm against it. He moves up slowly, his fingertips grazing the underside of my breast through the thin lace bra that gives everything away. Skimming the edge and moving further under my shirt until his fingertips graze my nipple.

Sebastian stares at my face as he plays with it. Grazing, pinching, and pulling. Reading my reactions with each one. I grip his shoulders, and my fingernails dig in as my hips press upward. Needing more to meet the ache between my legs.

He must sense it because he brings both hands up under my T-shirt and strips it off me, before tugging down the cups of my lacy bra and leaving me exposed.

I’ve felt wanted by men before, but not like this. Sebastian looks at me with such intensity. As if me being here heals him and breaks him all at once.

I reach for the hem of his shirt, and he lifts, allowing me to pull it up and over his head. Revealing his pierced nipples and sculpted chest I’m familiar with through photos and videos from his concerts. But there’s nothing like seeing him in person. Those lean muscles might as well be carved in stone. His abs are a ripple of waves trailing down his stomach, brushed with the faintest line of hair that travels beneath his pants.

I can barely breathe at the sight.

“Sebastian,” I say, looking up into his eyes.

But he doesn’t answer me with words, instead letting his lips crash over mine and spilling his thoughts into my mouth. His skin is warm where our chests press together. His hips grind between my legs, and I want to strip us of anything separating our bodies.

“Fuck,” he says, moving his mouth down my jaw, my neck. “I’m dreaming.”

He could be right. This doesn’t feel real.

At the same time, I feel everything.

His lips trail down my chest, and I almost come apart when his tongue flicks against one of my nipples.

“Oh, God,” I scream out, surprised at the effect every small thing he does has on my body.

Sebastian moves to the other nipple, drawing it between his teeth as he trails a finger between my breasts and down my stomach. It’s more sensation than my brain can process at once.

His fingers find the button on my jeans, and he undoes it, releasing my nipple from his mouth so he can kneel between my legs to tug my jeans down over my hips. He peels them off, along with my underwear, dragging his hands from my feet, up my legs, before spreading them on either side of him.

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