Page 30 of The Boy Who Loved Wicked
He nodded, urging me into his chest and wrapping his arms around me. We stayed like that for a few heartbeats. My head planted on his shoulder, the crackling of the fire doing as much for our mood as the flames themselves. “I don’t deserve you.”
When I tried to pull back, his hold on me tightened.
“I probably shouldn’t be sharing this, but early into our marriage, Emily learned of a preexisting condition that would make it nearly impossible to conceive and if so, carry to term. As I said, she’s no stranger to loss, and the diagnosis left her feeling damaged.” He rubbed my back, and I kissed the wing of his shoulder blade. “We went on with our lives, never speaking of it again. I hadn’t been sold on children anyway, all things considered.” He loosened his hold, like he couldn’t maintain both physical and emotional strength. “But then by some miracle she ended up pregnant.” He didn’t say it like it was a good thing. “She thought it would fix everything, but it didn’t fix a thing. It didn’t fix me. I was downright sullen. There but not. It was a high risk pregnancy from the start, and Emily ended up losing our son. And the guilt crippled me.”
The sadness in his eyes, the way they drooped from the weight of it, was a knife to my heart. I pressed a kiss to his forehead, letting instinct drive me, because I didn’t know what else to do to make it better.
“Her attempts at saving us stopped then. I failed her and our child, even though I didn’t want to. Even though I went to bed every night promising I’d do better by them both.” He shook his head. “I’m just a man, Phoenix.”
He would make mistakes. He may even disappoint me. And he wouldn’t be my hero, because he wasjust a man.My father was my god, but Sebastian was telling me that a god he did not make.
“I don’t think I deserve anything good. I’ve gone most of my life believing that. Alexander’s death and the death of my son.” He shook his head. “They were my fault—”
“No—”
He kissed me to quiet my protests. “I live with this feeling hanging over me. Like the other shoe is about to drop. If that even makes sense.” He searched my face. “I’m ruining our night, aren’t I?” He feigned humor.
“No. And you don’t have to hide from me.” I’d been happy since we got together, and he seemed happy too. But when I scratched under the surface of my euphoria, my sadness was still there, so of course Sebastian’s would be too. This new beginning was a temporary balm. We still had things to heal from.
I got to the floor and slid between his thighs, fumbling with his sweats and taking his hardness into my untrained hands. Measuring him. Feeling the strength of him. His warmth.
“Phoenix, you don’t have to—” he moaned, tucking his chin to his chest.
It was my turn to silence him. “Teach me,” I whispered.
I gagged too many times to count, my tears running down my chin, and I could barely take a quarter of him. But he remained patient, and enthusiastic. Telling me things that brought on the blush he seemed taken by.
“That’s right, sweetheart. You’re doing...so good,” he groaned, legs rigid.
Horny didn’t explain the level of want that shot through me. And when he pulled me up by my hair warning me he was about to explode, I growled like a feral thing and smacked his hand away.
He came in my mouth, and I came right after the first drop hit my tongue, my hips pumping in response to the lust in the air. It was a simultaneous battery of sensation I couldn’t even explain with a gun to my head. I sucked until he slid a thumb into the side of my mouth to pry me off him. Sharp, jagged, punching breaths left me. The sides of my lips were sore from the stretch, but I still called for God.
He cleaned me and took me to bed, holding me as if someone was trying to pry me out of his clenched hands.
We were over a month into our relationship now, and I never mentioned Sebastian’s journal again. Nor the fact that I obsessively watched Emily make her way through the leather-bound pages of his heart. She only read small morsels in one sitting, taking her time to savor and digest the intimate details properly, living with each new discovery a spell before taking in a bit more.
Sometimes she’d cry, slamming the journal shut and pressing it to her chest with a hand thrown over her mouth. I’d covered my own mouth a time or two watching her. I wondered what she was learning. Something I hadn’t, yet? On occasion my jealousy would rear its ugly head, and I’d hate her for it, then feel like shit right after.
But then there were times she would laugh. And I’d dig my nails into my thighs as she sat in the middle of her bed going over the same page twice. She’d trail a finger across each line as she read and after hitting the bottom right corner, she’d go back to the top left of the page. I didn’t want her to understand him. To get to know him better.
Sebastian was in his study with the door ajar while I did homework in his living room. His phone rang, and I stilled at the mention of Emily and documents, straining my ears to pick up more. I never asked about the status of their divorce. The less I knew the less guilt I experienced.
He swore I wasn’t the reason for the separation, and I understood to some degree how two people could remain together for so long knowing they needed to move on. But still, she moved outside of the city with him so he could be closer to the university. That had to mean something.Right?I asked myself—and not for the first time.What if she wanted to try and make it work?
I put those thoughts aside at the sound of my name.
“Are you all right?” He folded himself onto the floor next to me.
“Fine.” I smiled.
“I called your name more than once.” He traced the breadth of my shoulders.
“You’re filling out.”
“A bit. I’ll need to buy new tops for sure.” After watching Sebastian work out every evening, I’d decided I might as well join him.
“I love this little bun you’ve been wearing your hair in.” He brushed a strand off my cheek.
