Sebastian's hand came up and cradled the back of her head.
And then he was kissing her back.
But no, no. This was not the same sort of chaste kiss she’d pressed on him. This was something else entirely. It was fierce and unrestrained.
And it set her entire body on fire.
His head tilted as he fit his mouth over hers, his lips parting hers with a hunger that made her tremble even as she melted against his chest.
Gone was that measured control that characterized everything else Sebastian did. His kiss was desperate and consuming. He was a man unleashed. Her mind shut off completely as her body responded in kind. All thoughts of pulling away, of apologizing—they disappeared as she kissed him back, eager for more and confused by this sudden heat and the neediness she did not understand.
His other arm locked around her waist and pulled her against him. She gasped into his mouth at the sudden, solid wall of his chest against hers. He was so warm. So impossibly hot, and his hand in her hair was that mix of firm and gentle that she’d come to associate with his touch.
Thank goodness his arm held her so tightly, because when he deepened the kiss, her knees buckled. She clutched at his shirt, his arms, then finally she gripped the strong muscles of his shoulders because her legs had apparently forgotten their primary function.
Her mind could hardly keep track of the onslaught of new sensations. The scrape of his stubble against her chin. The pressure of his arm, banding her waist. His thumb tracing the curve behind her ear with a tenderness that was utterly at odds with the ferocity of his mouth.
Then the kiss slowed. The urgency was still there, but she felt a new tension in the muscles beneath her palms.
He kissed her now like he was memorizing every second. He kissed her like…
Like he was saying goodbye.
The thought no sooner pierced through the haze, when he broke off the kiss.
The separation was abrupt. One moment she was pressed against him, lost in the heat and the wanting, and the next his hands were on her shoulders, holding her firmly away.
The night air rushed between them, chilling her to the bone.
She swayed and blinked up at him in confusion. Her lips were still tingling, her heart pounded furiously. And his expression was…
Well, she didn’t know what it was she saw there. It was locked down tight. His chest rising and falling hard, and his hands on her shoulders were gripping her with a force that would bruise if he weren't so careful to keep his strength in check.
His gaze cut past her, scanning the terrace. He was making sure no one had seen. That practicality in the midst of what had just happened stung more than she expected.
He dipped his head down, a sigh escaping. Apparently he’d been relieved to see that they were still alone. "That was a mistake."
Mistake. The word landed like a slap. "A mistake?"
"Yes." He released her shoulders and stepped back. One step, then another.
She could practically see the wall going up between them, higher and thicker than it had ever been.
"That didn't feel like a mistake." She was proud of how steady her voice came out, because inside she was shaking. "That felt like?—"
"It doesn't matter what it felt like." His tone was clipped now. "That cannot happen again."
"Why not?" The question was bold and reckless and she didn't care. She'd just kissed this man and he'd kissed her back.
And he was the same man who’d been looking after her family—after her. She just knew it. So he must care. Mustn’t he?
But the longer he stayed silent, the less certain she felt.
"I'm not your benefactor, Estella." His voice was low and flat. "I didn't pay your debts. Whatever you've convinced yourself of, you're wrong."
She blinked. But… But she’d been so sure.
Foolishly, her silly brain chose that moment to call up Thea’s words. “Secret admirer.”
