Page 94 of Obsessing Over His Favorite
Her fingers traced the contours of his face as she whispered, low and sultry, “Is it so wrong for a woman to want to get in bed with a man she finds attractive?”
The man beneath her smiled—a slow, cunning curl of his lips that made her pulse quicken.
“No,” he murmured, voice deep and certain. “Not at all.”
With a swift motion, he flipped her onto her back on the couch and climbed over her, his body pressing down. His breath ghosted over her ear as he murmured, “The only thing that matters is that you know—I’m not Lucas.”
Her mind flashed with memories. Pain, anger, betrayal, all doubled and twisted by the thought of Lucas.
“Fucking Lucas,” she breathed, pain flashing in her eyes.
The next second, she felt his hand on her face, tilting it so her eyes locked with his. His gaze was fierce—an anger she’d never seen before.
“You’re kissing me,” he growled low, “and you’re still thinking about your fucking boyfriend?”
Her eyes drifted over his face, lingering on his lips as his words sank in. Her body tensed, then a sly thought crossed her mind:‘He looks a hundred times better than Lucas. Why is he jealous of that man at all?’
She wrapped her arms around his broad neck and pulled him closer. His body responded instantly, collapsing onto hers with a powerful weight. His chest pressed hard against her, his knee slipping between her legs as his hips settled, straddling her lower body.
“I’m single now,” she said, lips brushing his. Then, leaning closer, she whispered against his ear, “And right now, I’m not thinking about Lucas at all.”
Chapter 17 Ravaged
That was all it took to break his control.
His hands clamped down on her waist as he yanked himself up, keeping her straddling him. Without warning, he hooked his hands under her knees and lifted her into his arms.
He stormed out of the VIP room, carrying her into the corridor.
She braced herself, expecting him to toss her out. But instead, he pressed the elevator button, and the doors slid open instantly. He stepped inside, holding her close.
Emily’s fingers curled tightly into his collar, nails grazing the sharp line of his jaw as the elevator glided upward. Every inch of him radiated heat.
When the doors opened, Sebastian stepped into the suite—luxury wrapped in shadows and low light. Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched behind him, heavy silk curtains blocking out the city’s glow, trapping them in their own world.
The marble floor gleamed cold beneath his feet, reflecting the amber light from the crystal chandeliers. Velvet armchairs sat unused while his focus was on her and the massive king-sized bed waiting for them.
He didn’t give Emily a second to process. One moment she was standing, the next, he grabbed her and dropped her onto the mattress with a hard thud. The cold sheets kissed her back for a breath—then his heat swallowed her whole as he came down on top of her.
The sharp rustle of his jacket filled the air as he tore it off. Rough fingers slid beneath the edge of her mini skirt. He yanked it down in one swift motion, his grip digging into her thighs as he pulled it off completely.
Before she could catch her breath, he reached for his tie—jerking it free with a sharp tug.
“Close your eyes,” he said, voice low and rough.
She did. But the darkness wasn’t left to chance. He wrapped the tie around her eyes and knotted it tightly behind her head.
Her lips parted, but his hands were already back at the hem of her top, yanking it over her head. His fingers scraped fire over her skin as he peeled it away. He stripped his shirt off fast, buttons snapping open until his bare chest pressed against hers, burning and unrelenting.
His hand reached behind her, unclasping her bra and dragging it away. Then his fingers hooked into her underwear and yanked them down rough and fast, dragging over her hips until she lay bare beneath him.
Emily’s hands moved instinctively, reaching for him, needing to feel him—but he caught her wrists and pinned them above her head, trapping her completely.
She gasped when her fingertips brushed along the stubble on his jaw, and he didn’t let go. If anything, his grip tightened, pullingher closer until they were pressed together—skin to skin, chest to chest, heat rolling between them like a storm.
Her breath caught when something hard pressed against her stomach, a tremor rippling through her spine.
“Wait,” she whispered, voice trembling. “Let me take off the blindfold.”
