Page 10 of Sebastian

She agrees too fast, and I’m kind of offended that she thinks that.

Doesn’t she know I sit on the board of my family’s companies? That’s not the easiest thing to do, even if I’m not involved in their day-to-day operations.

“You’re just as wired as these sugar-high kids, except you got all your toys at Christmas.”

The mean spirit in which she delivers the insult stings and anger simmers within me. I’m about to go off on her ass when the parents approach with their child clinging to the mother like a monkey. They ask if it’s okay if she sits with us. Chloe takes the lead, and I’m left fuming at her judgmental tone and assumption that she knows me so well, which couldn’t be further from the truth.

I continue doing my part but with less vigor, wanting to get that drink now because this broad has pissed me off. It doesn’t go unnoticed by her, and when she tries to talk to me, I ignore her as we have only a few more children to go before the elves close the gates to the entryway.

My frustration grows, but I maintain Santa’s jolly demeanor. I can’t let these kids down, especially when they look at me with wonder and believe in the magic of Christmas. It’s my responsibility to uphold that magic, even if Chloe’s pissing me off. Once the gates are closed, parents collect the children’s toys from the elves working the Christmas tree, offering words of thanks and praise. It’s a gratifying experience, even if my Santa suit was a little snugger and warmer than I’d like.

“Look, it’s obvious I offended you or something?—”

“Thanks for doing this, Chloe. I know you didn’t have to,” I cut her off, not wanting to deal with this when I want to get out of this hot suit and beard, shower, and enjoy a cold beer with my friends in the theater room until my adult Christmas party starts. “Enjoy the rest of the party.”

I stand, scratching the fake beard and motioning to Jiles, who meets me at the closed gates with Chloe on my heels.

“How can I help you?”

Jiles’s impeccable manners take over, a stark contrast to the brewing tension between her and I. Chloe would undoubtedly have a field day about having a house manager run my life.

“Can you please see to it that Miss . . . ”

I pause, momentarily forgetting Chloe’s last name from Paolo’s introductions. I’m not about to call her by her first name in front of Jiles. It would imply she’s a friend, and Chloe has made it abundantly clear that she’s anything but.

“Miller,” Chloe chimes in, stepping forward as I turn to her. “But, Sebastian, I wanted to?—”

“Please ensure that Ms. Miller has everything she needs while here and a ride to take her home.”

My hands curl around the waist-level gate, and without a second glance in her direction, I effortlessly vault over the barrier and stride away, leaving Jiles to deal with her. Or Taylor can take care of her since she’s the one who brought Chloe here. Either way, she’s no longer my concern.

I slip through the service entrance and pass the growing crowd of friends gradually assembling. I offer quick greetings and brief pleasantries as the servers bring them food and drink, but my mind is consumed by the need to be alone.

Reaching my bedroom, I lock the door behind me, effectively shutting out the festivities and drawing a line between the outside world and my private sanctuary. The thick drapes are drawn closed, blocking the dusk sun and dropping the room into darkness. With a deep exhale, I hit the button on the wall to turn on the bedside lamps and start to undress.

I can finally let my guard down in solitude, and my thoughts return to Chloe. I should’ve allowed her to say her peace before throwing her out or, instead, giving her over to Jiles, but I wasdone dealing with her. Her words and her attitude—they struck a nerve. It’s rare for someone to challenge me, and I can’t deny that her defiance bothers me more than I’d like to admit.

“Who is she to judge me? I could have two girls up here right now if I wanted, and they would treat me like the king I am.” I smirk, the thought growing more desirable as I head to the bathroom. “Yeah, fuck her and that stick up her ass. Someone should shove a hard dick up there instead, really put her in her place.”

As I step into the water, I grab my junk and give it a few tugs, trying to decide if I want to jack now or save it for one of the girls who will be adorning my bed later. Fuck it, I’ve got to release some of this pent-up anger, or else I’ll likely blow my shit on the wrong guest tonight. Probably Chloe. Hell, maybe I’ll be the one to shove my dick up her ass and have her begging for more.

The very thought has my dick hardening in my fist, and I widen my stance as the water pounds against the sore muscles in my back. With her lithe body and trim legs, I’d love to have her bent over in those silver heels and those blood-red fingernails pulling her cheeks apart in eager anticipation. Her soft southern accent would sound so sweet, begging me to fuck her in the ass.

Imagining hearing those sweet words fall from her proper mouth with that damn red lipstick has me pumping my dick even harder. The gasp that would escape her lips when I pushed the thick bulb of my dick into her, the way her fingers would grip my hand, requesting a moment to adjust. My whispered instructions to relax, breathe into the pain, and push out for me.

Fuck.

My fist tightens, stroking up and down as my eyes close. Imagining her warm, tight channel greedily gripping my shaft as I push deeper into her. The way her pussy drips with wetness, glistening on her compressed thighs as I force her to cross her ankles to make her asshole even tighter. She’d moan in reliefevery time I pulled out, only to moan even more when I pushed in. I’d fuck her slow and steady, taking my time to open her up and make her gape. Spit into it before splitting her open again.

Shit.

Even though my mind is fucking her slowly, my fist is fucking my dick quickly. I want to get off, seek her out, and see if I can make my visions a reality, possibly tonight. A girl like her probably loves anal, maybe more than me, if that’s even possible. Fuck. That thought has me spewing my load in the fastest orgasm I’ve had in a while. And after I fuck her ass, I’d turn her around and make her suck me off.

Damn.

Would she do that? Would she be that dirty with me? I’d fucking love it. They say older women are more experienced and know what they want. Could she be unlike all these girls my age who can barely come because they are too afraid of being seen in full light or are too insecure about some of the naughty shit I like?

I’m fucked.

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