And his emotions were still stormy, she realized quickly, catching a glimpse of his face as the light danced against it. Still, though, she didn’t voice her own thoughts as they passed through.
Instead of taking the stairway, he led them past it before going in the opposite direction and headed for the master’s suite. A breathless second later, they were entering the huge bedroom. As soon as they stepped in, she sensed every essence of him in the room.
Everything was simply him.
From the huge mahogany bed at the center of the room, the lap top in the corner, a pair of boxing gloves lying haphazardly on the leather sofa…
“Let’s get you out of these wet clothes,” Sebastian murmured, already reaching for the end of her t-shirt, and then whisked it over her head. “I don’t want you to catch a chill.”
“And you’ll catch one if you don’t do the same,” she smiled gently, working to free the shirt from his broad shoulders. As she tugged the sleeve over his right hand, he winced. She frowned up at him. “Are you hurt?”
He shrugged. “It’s nothing.”
“What do you mean it’s nothing? Men and their pigheadedness at trying to play the tough guy, it’s just plain childish if you ask me,” she scolded, turning his hand over in hers, seeing the abrasions. Muttering under her breath, she led him to the bed. “I’m going to find something to put on this and grab some towels. Take those pants off. I’ll be right back.”
Disregarding her own disheveled, half-dressed state, she padded across the bedroom floor. After entering the bathroom, she went straight to the medicine cabinet and extracted the soothing salve cream and bandages. Placing the items on the counter, she grabbed two large bathing towels from the linen closet and dried herself off quickly with one of them. She wiggled the shorts and bikini briefs off before tossing the brassiere aside and then wrapped a large towel around her nude body. Confiscating the supplies, she returned to the bedroom and was satisfied upon seeing that he’d taken her instructions.
Now, he sat propped against the plush pillows.
Just what was he was thinking, she mulled, taking in his unreadable expression.
Whatever it was, it was thought-provoking.
She placed the items on the nightstand. “You know what? We’re going to have to quit meeting like this,” she said, attempting to lighten the mood. “A storm, you and a flesh wound---”
“Come here,” Sebastian said huskily.
She grabbed the hand that he held out. “But, you’re hurt---”
“I’m more than convinced that I’ll survive,” he murmured, pulling her towel clad form into his arms, and sighed heavily. “Right now, at the moment, all I need is you.”
She listened to his heartbeat as she lay against his chest, and the sound of its steady rhythm soothed her. “I guess the storm’s not going to let up anytime soon, is it?” she asked, hearing the howling winds outside. “It’s good that we were close to the house before things really got bad.” Sighing sweetly, she propped up on his chest and gave a soft smile. “I’m getting you all wet.”
He fingered the soft damp curls along the edge of her face. “And I’m not complaining,” he said seriously, tracing along her lips. “Being close to you is all that I care about.”
Her voice softened. “I missed you.”
His eyes glinted with sensual promise. “Why don’t you come closer so I can make it up to you?”
She held his gaze.
For wasn’t she always magnetized by it?
As she rose to her knees, he followed her every move. After giving one tug, the towel fell to the bed, and she was left naked and wanting before him. Rather than covering herself, she boldly made her wants and needs known.
Taking both hands, she threaded her hands through her thick tresses before lifting it from her nape. She paused momentarily, keeping form, and allowed him to get plain view of her naked flesh. Her plump breasts were like rounded globes, and her skin was infused with pure heat; and her rosy tips, they were already budded and tight. Keeping her right hand in her hair, she let the other one fall, only to slide it suggestively along the moist place between her thighs.
A dangerous glint shone in his eyes. “My sweet love,” he whispered again. “I promise that I have a cure for all that agony and pain.”
As he lifted the covers, she crawled in.
Yet, she didn’t have a moment to muster a thought as he pulled her naked body across his. “Do you know how much I fucking love you?” he rasped, staring into her eyes. “You think that you do, but I don’t believe you really understand.”
“If it’s the same uncontrollable, crazy, and intense feelings that I have, I think that I do,” she admitted, and her eyes roamed over his face. “I know, I feel, and I understand how much you love me.” Her eyes misted with tears. “And I love you in the same way.”
“You slay me,” he rasped again. “My beautiful goddess.”
“You slay me,” she whispered back. “I love you.”
Their lips met.
The kiss was tender and sweet.
Though they’d kissed countless times before, this time was different; for now, there were no secrets or barriers between them. They were finally free to love one another without guilt.
He followed her down as her back met the sheets, and she didn’t have the strength to muster a further thought as the kiss intensified. Where there’d been tenderness before, there was now fire and passion. With a deep moan, she met thrust for thrust as his tongue swept along the sweet cave.
She let her distress be known as his lips fell away.
But, his action had been justifiable, she gasped, closing her eyes against the pleasure as his lips trailed down the smooth column of her throat. He grazed his teeth along the soft flesh, journeying further until he reached her heaving breasts.
Her eyes fluttered open.
She bit her lip in anticipation of what was to come.
“Sebastian,” she gasped, helpless and lost.
But, she rediscovered herself as his mouth closed over a puckered nipple, realizing this world of wonder was where she belonged. At his tender assault, her body rose from the bed. Yet, it did little to appease her ache.
“Let me take care of you,” he breathed against her skin and clenched his fingers in her right thigh to stay her. “I’ll be anything and everything that you fucking need, my sweet baby.”
While he suckled on the sensitive bud, he palmed the other breast in his hand, kneading its full plumpness. She clasped his dark head and held it in place, all with the intent of prolonging the blinding pleasure. He moved to the other breast, continuing his treacherous pursuit of her body.
Against her heated flesh, his lips were like a whisper, telling illicit secrets that could only be seen and heard by the sacred chosen one. The covers slipped from their heated bodies unnoticed, and now, they were fully exposed.
She didn’t protest as he turned her, and now, she lay on her side. But, her confused state of passion returned as he spooned her from behind, for it was a position that she wasn’t knowledgeable of. “Relax,” he rasped, running a hot hand along her abdomen, and then cupped her mons. “Give me your fucking mouth.”
Arching her head to the side, she met his lips.
With every thrust of his tongue, he massaged her mons deep, sliding his large hand ever so slowly along it in a back and forth motion. “Oh, that feels so good,” she gasped, closing a hand over his and moved it along with his. “Please don’t stop.”
He stroked her deep, and then parted her inner lips.
A finger along the clit…
A sweet swathing along the insides…
The wetness seeped and flowed from her body like rain.
But, they knew no reason as they writhed on the bed, and she was left mindless as he entered her from behind in one fluid movement.
“Sebastian,” she moaned, reaching back to clasp his hip, and held him in place. “Oh…oh…oh…”
His guttural grunts overrod
e her pleas.
His deep thrusts eradicated her senses.
A breathless cry later, she came, bathing his fingers with her sweet wetness.
“Vanessa,” he cried out, shuddering all over, and then embraced his fiery release.
Finally, exhausted, spent, they fell asleep in each other’s arms.
Hours later, as the storm lessened and turned to a light drizzling rain in the dark night, their needs and desires made demands again. In the darkened shadows, she went into his arms, returning his kiss with a fervor that was uncontrollable. His hands roamed over her body freely, touching her in the naughtiest of places.
Their lust---
It was wild and untamable.
Incapable of being controlled---
Breathlessly, she cried out his name as he entered her, and then rose to meet his every thrust. Clasping her hands in his, he pinned them above her head, watching her with a drugged gaze as he made each stroke. She bit her lip, tried to control her desperate sounds, but failed. Panting fast, clinging to him tightly, she absorbed the shocks of pure unadulterated pleasure.
His pace hastened.
She rode the rising tide.
Their deep need pulsated, throbbed all throughout their heated bodies.
At the same time, they peaked, found the paradise that they sought.
In a blinding rush, they both came apart.
Chapter 15
The ceremony was held at St. Augustine’s Church on 34th Street on a rainy afternoon. It’d been small and intimate, having only close and personal friends. She’d even met his brother-in-law, Marc, and even now, she was taken aback with emotions when remembering his response at seeing Sebastian. The two men had embraced tightly and released their own shared grief. Now, the two of them conversed quietly at the front of the church with the minister, and the rest of the crowd milled in small groups, speaking in soft tones.
Her eyes strayed to the large canvas that held a picture of mother and son.
Again, she reminded of such a tragic loss.
But, they were here to celebrate them, not mourn, she reminded herself, giving Meghan’s hand a comforting squeeze as they sat at the middle of the pew.
“You okay, sweetheart?” she asked, pulling her onto her lap.
Meghan twined her arms around her neck. “Yes. Having you and Daddy here makes it better.” She stared at the canvas. “My mommy was beautiful. Do you think that I look like her?”
“Hmmmm,” she mulled, grabbing Meghan’s chin, pretending to examine her face. “You know what? I think that you are a mini-Caitlyn.”
“I think so, too,” Meghan said with a satisfied smile. “And Colin, he looks just like Daddy.”
“Yes, he does.”
A short while later, they’d returned home with Meghan taking an afternoon nap, her reading a novel in the masters suite’s bed, and Sebastian was ensconced in the office doing paperwork.
Deeply engrossed in the story, she lay on her stomach and read. When the cell phone shrilled on the nightstand, she jumped.
“Hello,” she answered on the fourth ring.
The harsh breathing greeted her on the other end.
She frowned against the phone. “Who is this? Is someone there?”
Still, the other party didn’t voice a word.
“Stupid crank callers,” she snapped and then disconnected the phone. “You’d think that they’d find something better to do with their time.”
A minute later, the call was forgotten, and she found herself relaxed while reading again. She looked up when the door opened, and Sebastian sailed in. Smiling, she left the bed before meeting him halfway the room.
“Hey beautiful,” he grinned, catching her as she jumped on him. “I could get used to these kinds of greetings.”
“Good, because they’re the only kind that you’re going to get,” she said, tightening her hold around his neck. She pretended to pout. “You’ve been locked up in that office of yours all day and haven’t spent any real time with me.”
He brushed a kiss against her lips. “Have I been neglecting you too much?” he asked between kisses, carrying her as he walked towards the bed. “How about I make it up to you right now?”
“Please do,” she breathed, already heating up.
The clothing melted from their bodies, and soon, their noisy lovemaking consumed them.
“Do you have to go?” she pouted prettily, sometime later, watching him from the bed as he dressed. “I miss you.”
He leaned down to give her a quick kiss. “If I had my way, you and I would never leave this bed. But, then, I’d have no job and we’d all starve to death.”
“We could live off love,” she teased, standing before looping her arms around his neck. “It’d work for me.”
“I’m sure that you could convince me to think the same,” he muttered, giving a half-grin. “But, that moment won’t be now. I have to go to the office and locate an important file. I shouldn’t be long.”
“Do you mind if I hitch a ride? I need to pick up a few things from the studio.”
“I’ll tell you what. We’ll stop by there first.”
The ride into the city didn’t take long, and with his usual expertise, he parked the Lamborghini at the curb.
She laid a hand on his arm. “There’s no point in both of us going in. I only need to grab a few small canvases and cutting knife.”
“I’m going to check the place out first---”
“Sebastian, I’m only two steps away. What could possibly happen with you this close?” she said softly, taking in his concerned look. “I’ll be okay.”
Still, he didn’t seem convinced.
“I’ll even prop the door wide open if it’ll make you feel better,” she went on. “And you’ll be able to see me walk around.”
His cell phone shrilled.
He read the caller ID. “It’s Marc.”
“You go ahead and handle your phone call, and I’ll go in and get what I need.” She gave him a quick peck. “I’ll be right back.”
Before he could stop her, she left the vehicle.
But as she’d proposed, she kept the door open, allowing him to see her as she scurried about inside.
“What took you so long to answer?” Marc snapped on the other end. “For a minute there, I didn’t think that locating you was even possible.”
“Why in the hell are you so pissed off at me?” he bit back sharply, straining to see her small form, and then relaxed somewhat as he did.
“Things are about to go down, and we’d better be prepared for anything. Maurice Santini is dead.”
“What?” he asked in disbelief, taking his eyes from the studio briefly. “When in the hell did this happen?”
“A short while ago, and they’re ruling it as a suicide. Apparently, they’re going with the argument that he found out he was stone broke and couldn’t deal with the fallout.” He sighed hard. “But, I’m not buying it. I’m calling foul play. A man like Maurice Santini would never willingly take his own life. Hell, he’d be after the son-of-a-bitch that took him down.”
No longer able to contain his nervousness, he left the vehicle, and the suffocating feeling overcame him as he approached the open door.
“Vanessa,” he called out loudly as he entered.
“Sebastian, what’s the hell going on?” Marc demanded, hearing the desperation in his voice. “Is everything alright?”
“Vanessa!”
The alarm shot through him as she didn’t answer back. He flew up the stairs only to find the living area vacant, and the fear crippled him so that he couldn’t breathe.
“Vanessa!” he shouted frantically, running towards the back entrance, and when he reached it, he stopped dead in his tracks.
The door stood wide open.
On the floor, there lay a few canvases and a cutting knife that contained splatters of red blood. There were also signs of struggle. Her pearl necklace was broken and the small pieces rolled across the floor, and a sole he
el lay just outside the door.
The fear lanced through him.
It was a truth that he couldn’t escape.
She’d been taken.
***
The incessant pounding in her head said that she was still alive. Wincing against the pain, she struggled to open her eyes.
She heard an angry hiss.
“Wake up, you stupid cunt! Finally, it’s just you and me again.”
A shiver of fear ran through her at the sound of the voice. For hadn’t it plagued her nightmares since the very ages? And now, her memories seemed startling clear, she realized, focusing her eyes on Victor as he leaned over her from the side of the bed.
She remembered everything.
This was the very monster that she’d been trying to escape for the past few years. No longer did he resemble the suave, clean cut business man, but now, he reminded her of a deranged madman. The gray t-shirt that he wore was stained with blood and the matching joggers hang about him with no fashionable sense.
Seeing that she’d awakened fully, Victor gave a nasty smile. “Ah, my sweet little fiancé, I can see that you’ve finally decided to join the world again,” he sneered, standing to his full height. “Whether that’s a blessing or a curse, I’ll leave that up to you to decide.”
Keeping a close eye on him, she pushed herself up on the bed. “Where are we?”
His eyes were crazed. “That’s for me to know and for you to wonder about,” he chortled, taking the chair close to the door. “Oh, what the hell, you’re not going to be alive long enough to tell anything. We’re on Ferry’s Road, a small cabin that I use to conduct business.”
“Business?” she scoffed. “Since when has kidnapping and murder been labeled as business transactions?”
“You never did know when to keep your damn smart mouth shut, have you?” Victor spat, glaring at her from across the room, and waved the handgun in the air. “It’s rather unbecoming.”
“As if I really care about what you think,” she muttered, passing him a disgusted look. “You can go to hell.”
The Darkest Days (Torn Apart Book 2) Page 23