And what do I do? I bloody fuck Sebastian and make everything worse.
Still…he needs to know how I feel.
“You think you're punishing me,” I whisper, “but you're not.”
He stiffens for a moment before pulling back slightly to look at me, confusion marring his brow.
“What do you mean?” he growls.
“I mean”—I swallow, gathering my thoughts as I look intohis darkened eyes—“that this isn't punishment, River. Punishment is about pain and regret and lessons learned. This is you staking your claim.”
His jaw clenches. “You think I'm not hurting? Not regretting?”
“I know you're hurting. So am I.” I trace the line of his jaw. “But this isn't about regretting what happened. It’s about moving past it.”
“Moving past it…” he echoes.
“Yes,” I say softly, my gaze steady on his. “Letting go of what happened and focusing on us. Both of us messed up, River. But we can fix this. I want you. Just you. Not Sebastian. Not anyone else.”
“I want onlyyou, damn it,” he says, “and I hate that I gave you reason to doubt that.”
“And I hate that I sought solace in another man when I love only you.” I cup his cheek. “Only you. Always you.”
Silence looms for a moment. He moves again. Then he pulls me to him and kisses me again. It’s different this time. It’s still raw and primal, but now it’s also about forgiveness, acceptance, a silent promise of better days ahead.
He breaks the kiss only to trail his lips down my neck. His hands are everywhere at once, caressing my skin, marking me as his. I gasp when his mouth closes over my nipple, sucking, pulling, teasing it so it’s even harder.
“I need you,” he murmurs against the sensitive skin of my breast.
The words wrap around my heart.
“I need you to remember this moment, Emily. This moment of justus.”
I can only nod, my breath hitching as he moves to my other nipple.
I close my eyes and sigh, pleasure surging through me.
Until—
He pulls away.
I whimper at the loss.
But his dark eyes are on fire.
He discards his jeans, and I catch my breath at the sight of him. River is a beautiful man, strong and virile and so utterly male.
“Touch me,” he says, his voice rough with desire.
I extend my hand toward him. His flesh is hot under my touch, hard and stiff.
A low groan escapes from him as I wrap my hand around him and give him a pull.
He covers my hand with his. Together we work his cock, finding the perfect rhythm.
“Emily…” He groans my name like a prayer, his dark eyes filled with lust. “You have no idea how much I want you.”
“I’ve a pretty good idea,” I reply cheekily.
