The Izzy and Seb Collection: The Evermore Series Books 1, 2 and 2.5

by Rachel De Lune

  At some point, my eyes slide shut, and I collapse forward against Seb’s chest.

  “You’re still pulsing around my dick.”

  I don’t answer. My body screams for air, and I take deep pulls to fill my lungs. I can feel that Seb didn’t come. A pang of disappointment pulses in my chest, but he doesn’t let me dwell for long. He lifts me and carries my spent body back to the grand bed.

  He rests me on the bed, and I watch through half-shut eyes as he admires my naked body.

  “You’re all mine, sweetheart—every delectable inch of you—and I’m going to enjoy you how I’d planned.” He pulls my ankle towards him and slips my four-inch stiletto from my foot. The creep of his hands up my legs sends a riot of sensation straight to my core. He slips his fingers under the elastic of the hold-ups and slides them free. He repeats his torturously sexy routine on my other leg. My body, tired and spent from a few moments ago, awakes under his touch.

  He cradles my tattooed ankle in his hand and begins to trace the black and grey lines of ink. His touch both soothes and titillates. Just before I start to relax, his lips follow the same path. Soft caresses and nips start at my ankle before travelling higher.

  By the time he reaches the delicate spot behind my knee, I want to beg him to hurry up. My body trembles with anticipation, and I have no idea how I’m going to survive much more of his focused and meticulous attention.

  “Please, Seb. I want you.” My plea is full of the lust I feel towards my husband.

  “I want to take my time and show you how much today means to me.” His teeth dig into my inner thigh, emphasising his words. The bite sends a bolt of need to my pussy, and I squirm into the duvet.

  Seb drops my leg and climbs onto the bed. He settles himself between my thighs and resumes his slow worship of my body.

  His lips traverse across the planes of my body until he sucks the tight bud of my nipple into his mouth. I arch in delight as strikes of longing resonate in my sex. Primed for his touch, my body cries out for something harder, something more fulfilling from him.

  “Please, Seb…”

  “Shh. Enjoy my touch, or I’ll tie you up.” His teeth bite down in warning, but it’s not one that I’ll heed. His pain is as much of a turn on as his pleasure.

  I clench my jaw tight and let the sensations wash over me as Seb continues. Touch, kiss, caress, lick… he doesn’t stop until every inch of my skin has felt him. My breath labours and my sex slicks with desire.

  “I want you to remember how you feel. I want you to know how much I care for you; how much I love you.” Seb teases my lips between words, his gravely voice betraying his restraint.

  His body presses into mine and heat flares through me as our bodies finally connect skin to skin. Desperation claws in my chest as I hope Seb will finally give me the relief I crave.

  He positions his cock and slides easily into me. My sigh of release reverberates through my chest. Seb holds himself deep within me before pulling out and thrusting back in. His rotation skims my swollen clit, and my arousal surges higher.

  “God… you feel fucking amazing. I want you to come again, baby.”

  “Yes, Seb… please. Harder!”

  I’d had enough of the soft and tender. Luckily, Seb agreed and powered into me, forcing a moan from my throat.

  “Yes… Seb… Yes!” My limbs go weak as my climax rips through my body. I pulse in time with my racing heart as the waves of release wash over me.

  “Oh, fuck!” Seb cries before burying his head in the crook of my neck. I feel his teeth bite on my shoulder but don’t register more than the warmth of his lips.

  He collapses on me, both our bodies spent and slippery with sweat.

  “God, I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  Six weeks have passed in the blink of an eye.

  Seb flew me to New York for an incredible honeymoon. He redefined the term ‘wined and dined’. Everything was perfect—a lovely balance of private time spent locked away in our extravagant hotel room, seeing the sites of New York and visiting with his parents. His mother is the most gracious, kind woman I think I’ve ever met. I wanted to bring her home with us. I hope she’ll come and stay in the future.

  I had planned on having an easy few weeks after our return, but it was my time to step up and be there for Jess. After all the tragedy in her past, she needed something to go her way in the love department. My fear was that she’d be too stubborn to see it.

  “When do you want to put up the tree?” I call out, looking at our sparse living room.

  “I don’t have a tree. I don’t usually bother with Christmas,” Seb responds.

  My eyes widen in disbelief. I head into the kitchen to question my new husband.

  “Do you have decorations? Christmas paraphernalia that we can decorate the house with?”

  “No.”

  “Nothing?” I’m astonished.

  “No. I’ve never really had the need to celebrate Christmas as you do. I’ve been in New York visiting my parents or working. Collecting ‘stuff’ to put away in storage for eleven months of the year hasn’t been a priority.”

  Seb’s reasoning is sound, but I still struggle to understand it. For me, Christmas is a wonderful time of year. The air fills with a unique magic and never fails to lift my spirits. The last few years were the exception, and now that those times are past, I am as excited as a child waiting for Father Christmas.

  I want to create memories Seb and I will cherish. I want to build a life full of traditions and celebrations. We reconnected and got to spend our first Christmas together just a year ago. That was a start, but I want more.

  It is the beginning of December, which means the Bath Christmas Market will still be on for a few weeks. My body fills with excitement as I picture us walking through the bustling streets of Bath, soaking up the atmosphere.

  “Have you ever been to the Christmas Market?” I ask, anticipation ringing in my voice.

  “No, but I take it from the look on your face that we’ll be going.”

  I throw my arms around his neck. “Yes, yes we will,” and kiss his luscious lips.

  Three days later, my excitement has reached its height. Much like our short trip around Manchester last year, I let Seb bundle me up before we take a walk over to the abbey and market.

  We stroll, hand in hand, under the night glow of the city towards the centre of Bath. The frigid wind sends my hair whipping around my face, but I don’t care. The rich aroma of spices, oranges and wine infuse the air as we turn into the main market area. Chalet huts, glittering with fairy lights, line the square and emit an enticing glow of warm light. Christmas revellers pack the pavements, bustling about, and I bask in the magic that the scene creates.

  “Where do you want to start?” Seb asks, pulling me from my daze.

  “Over there.” I point to a hut with glistening balls of iridescent glass hanging from rainbow ribbons. The ornaments look beautiful, and I immediately picture a tall tree with the small globes adorning the branches.

  I ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ over the handmade decorations and turn to Seb.

  “Don’t look to me. You choose. We’re starting this from scratch so whatever you want is fine.” He leans forward and places his lips to my forehead.

  I find a clerk. “I’ll have six gold and six random colours, please.”

  We spend the next hour weaving in and out of the rows of stalls, buying decorations and gifts for our first Christmas. Dazzling paper star lights, glass Christmas trees, fabric angles and ornamental snow globes are all carefully wrapped inside the bags we carry.

  “Fancy some mulled wine or mulled cider?”

  “That sounds great.”

  Seb heads towards one of the chalets with vats of Christmas cheer steaming away. We take our cups and find a seat in front of the giant spruce tree that forms the centrepiece. The only thing missing from this scene is a flurry of snow.

  “What are you thinking? You look whimsical.”
r />   “I’m just thinking how perfect this is. And that the only thing missing is snow.”

  Seb chuckles and I can’t help the bubble of giggles that escapes. “You know there’s often snow in New York City at this time of year. Perhaps next year, we could spend Christmas with my parents.”

  “Sounds like a plan. I like your Mum.”

  “And she adores you. Are you happy sitting here or do you want to do more shopping?”

  We’d only gone around half of the market, but I was near exhausted. All this furore had taken it out of me. I wanted to finish the evening snuggled up in Seb’s arms.

  “I’m pretty tired. Can we head home? We have the weekend to get the house looking festive.”

  “Of course.”

  We finish the warming drinks and meander back towards home.

  I leave the bags of goodies on the kitchen table and head into the front room to collapse. I was exhausted, and the mulled wine didn’t help with my sleepiness. I hear Seb’s footsteps as he comes in to join me. “Did you enjoy the market?” I ask, my eyes already closed.

  “Yes. You were in your element, and I loved watching your excitement bubble over. Will this be a family tradition then?”

  “Definitely, although I think we can cut back on the decorations next year.” I pull my feet up under me and snuggle down on the sofa.

  “Hey, if you’re that tired we can go up to bed.”

  “But I want to sleep.”

  “Who said I couldn’t take you to bed and let you sleep?”

  I don’t have to open my eyes to see his wide grin. His mirth is clear from his words.

  My body fights with my mind as I try and come around from my deep slumber. Heavy eyelids hinder my progress. I stretch and turn to Seb, only to find his half of the bed empty and cold. The fog of sleep clears as I search for the time. It’s nearly 11:00 a.m. I haven’t slept this long in forever. I pull back the duvet and grab my robe before going in search of Seb.

  The smell of coffee wafts up the stairs as I head down to meet it. I peek inside the front room and find Seb. Tears sting the back of my eyes, and my throat swells with emotion as I watch him. Delight hums through every fibre of my body. He stands in front of a seven-foot tree, adorning the branches with a few of the ornaments we brought yesterday.

  “I hope you don’t mind. I started without you. You were out of it, and I wanted to let you sleep.” I pad into the room and wrap my arms around his waist to squeeze him tightly. This man is my everything. It’s not just the grandiose gestures, but the small things, like helping with the tree, which have created such a powerful connection between us.

  “Thank you. When did you get the tree?”

  “This morning. I wanted us to be able to spend the day doing Christmas stuff. Like you wanted.”

  “It’s perfect. Or at least it will be once we’ve finished. I love you.”

  “I love you.”

  The tree’s boughs are still sparsely decorated, and I can’t wait to dig into the bags and unwrap the ornaments.

  We spend the next hour wrapping twinkle lights around the branches and hanging baubles and angels on our tree. We don’t talk but share smiles as we finish our first Christmas tree.

  “Is it bad that I want to have this Christmas all to ourselves?” My question comes out as a whine as we cuddle on the sofa admiring our handy work.

  “No, it’s not bad. Remember, we had last Christmas all to ourselves. We have plenty of time before your Mum and Dad arrive to have our own time together, and your parents will only be with us for a few days.”

  “I know. I’m being selfish. I’m just… I’m happy. I’m filled with happiness, and I’m not sure I want anything to burst this bubble.”

  “Hey,” Seb pulls me closer into him, “nothing is going to burst our bubble. This is our life now.”

  “Are you happy here? We still haven’t found a house to buy.”

  “I’m happy here with you as long as you are.”

  The tears that threatened earlier return, but this time win and trickle down my cheek. I hold my breath to try and keep them from falling and dash away the salty evidence on my face before Seb notices. “Do you want a drink? I’ll put the kettle on.” I escape out of the room and take a deep breath as I head to the kitchen. The urge to cry abates as I focus on the remedial task of making a cup of tea.

  After the charm and joy of decorating the tree, the normality of life seeps back in. Seb is at work and a mountain of client projects to review hide my desk in my office. We’re both still catching up from our honeymoon, and since Christmas is just around the corner, the daydreams of creating more ‘first’ memories slip further away.

  I leave work and get home before Seb. The warm glow of the lights from the tree greet me as I enter the dark house. Despite our busy work schedule, I can still feel Christmas in the air. I set about preparing dinner, unsure of when Seb will be home.

  I open and close every cupboard in the kitchen trying to find inspiration for what to cook. Nothing takes my fancy, so I opt for my fall back. I set a pan of water on the stove, grab a red pepper from the fridge and start to chop. I prepare the garlic and pepper and dose with a generous helping of olive oil and leave it in the pan for when Seb walks in.

  I’ve got dinner covered. When will you be home? xx

  I wait for his answering text and curl up on the sofa in the front room.

  The door slamming closed startles me, and I bolt up from the sofa.

  “Iz, I’m sorry. I got held up at work. Did you eat already?” Seb calls from the hall, and I blink my eyes a few times to orientate myself. Seb walks in and joins me. “Hey, were you asleep?”

  “Yeah, sorry. I just closed my eyes for a moment. What time is it?”

  “Nearly half eight. Did you eat?”

  “No, no. I got it all ready. We just need to get the pasta on.”

  “Are you okay?” Seb curls a loose strand of hair around my ear and tilts my head up to look at him.

  “I’m fine. Come on. Let’s get us fed.” Seb takes my hand and pulls me up. I don’t miss the quizzical look he gives me as I pass him.

  Fifteen minutes later, we’re sitting at the table with a bowl of pasta and a glass of wine.

  “I know it’s not long until your parents will be here. I’ve been thinking of a way to celebrate before they arrive. We’ve not been to Solace on our own since before our honeymoon. I think it’s time we made some room for it.” Seb grins across the table at me.

  “I think that would be a wonderful idea, Sir.”

  “Good girl. Next Friday night. I want you home on time. I’ll have chosen the clothes I want you to wear, and I’ll leave them in the spare room. We’ll eat, celebrate before we enjoy the rest of the evening together.” My mind goes into overdrive as I imagine the possibilities, and I have my Christmas treat to look forward to.

  “I’m looking forward to it already.”

  “Oh, and one more thing. You’re not allowed to come until next Friday. I want you pent-up and frustrated for what I have in store.” My stomach drops at his command. My eyes lower from his face, and I force my body to stay still, although I’m desperate to fidget. I rub my wedding bands with my thumb. It was a habit I had, and although I don’t want to associate anything of my old life with the new one I share with Seb, I simply can’t help myself.

  My body still responds so vividly to Seb. We’ve grown accustomed to living together, waking up and going about our day. The every day hasn’t diluted the connection that first pulled us together.

  “Now, as beautiful as you look there, I want to enjoy you in our bedroom. Go upstairs, strip, and wait for me on the bed. Do not touch yourself, understand.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  This week has been the longest in forever. Or should I say, the longest since Seb had previously forbidden me to come. We were apart then. With us sleeping in the same bed every night, it brought a new level of exasperation to my world. I grew more amorous each night as Seb played my body li
ke a master with passionate kisses that made me feel drunk and tender touches that had me begging for him to be aggressive. Seb ensured that I was at my wits’ end by the middle of the week. The climax-freeze wasn’t a mutually agreed term. He enjoyed me sucking the silky head of his cock to the back of my throat while I was positioned ready for his tongue to torture me. My problem was he enjoyed my pussy aching with need. He withheld any touch that I craved. His fingers didn’t even skim the swollen and tender flesh between my thighs. He tormented me with his body and lips and left me with a burning knot of frustration in the pit of my stomach.

  Friday morning finally arrived. My alarm woke me first, and I start our day as I have done so many others. I make the coffee, deliver it back to our room, and kiss Seb awake. The nerves I used to feel at what could come from my submission have morphed into butterflies of excitement. I no longer fear what might occur when I put myself in Seb’s hands. He’s proved time and time again why I trust him and has shown me the rewards of that trust.

  His lips gently press back against mine, and he deepens the kiss. Today, Seb is in control. My eager and strung out body responds in kind and I move my leg to straddle Seb’s body. I grind down to try and generate some much-needed friction.

  “Stop. I told you I wanted you frustrated for tonight. I want you to melt into my touch. Understand.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  He hoists me off of him and heads for the shower. I snuggle back in bed and sip my coffee until he’s finished.

  “I’ve put the clothes for work and then this evening in the spare room. I’ll be checking in with you through the day. Have you got anything on at work that I need to be aware of?”

  “No, my diary’s pretty clear today, Sir. When will you be home?”

  “By six at the latest. I want you ready when I walk through the door, understand.”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes, what?”

  “Sorry, yes, Sir.”

  “I bet you’ll be wet for me before I even get home.”