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I shake my head. “I wasn’t interested,” I say, honestly. “They were all just kids, playing around. Not… a real man.”
My eyes drop to my lap. Again, I’ve said too much. Because it’s true. I never took other guys seriously, because I was waiting for Miles. He was the only one I wanted, and now…?
Now I feel way out of my depth. Because Sebastian may be cold, and heartless, and the villain I’ve sworn to destroy.
But he’s all man.
The way he sits beside me, with ease and confidence. The arrogance of his attitude. The confidence in his touch, his glance.
His kiss.
I hate myself for it, but my body is aware of him like nobody else. Like it’s already programmed to respond to his masculine command, to remember the wicked temptation of his touch.
My pulse beats faster, and there’s a moment of thick silence before Sebastian speaks again.
“Look at me, Sparrow,” he says softly. I don’t want to, not when my skin is prickling into goosebumps of anticipation like this, but Sebastian tilts my chin up, leaving me no choice.
His eyes burn into me, full of possessive heat. “Tell me… Are you a virgin?”
I gulp, unsure how to answer. Would it be better to lie or tell the truth? What would he want to hear?
“Yes,” I whisper, hoping that I’m making the right choice.
I immediately know that I said the right thing. His smile turns devilish, and he traces a finger down my bare arm. I shiver in response to the light touch.
“No wonder you’re such a nervous little bird,” he murmurs. He’s so close now, and I feel heat pooling in the pit of my stomach.
“I’m not—” I start to lie, but he cuts me off.
“Don’t worry,” he says, his voice thick. “I’ll teach you. I’ll teach you everything this body can do.”
And as I’m reeling from the promise, he kisses me.
Oh.
His lips are soft but determined, and he moves them against mine in a slow, sensual dance.
I sway against him, overwhelmed by the rush of sensation. My body tightens, and I find myself kissing him back, my lips molded to his.
Sebastian makes a noise of appreciation, slowly tipping me back into the cushions as the kiss deepens.
I go, willingly. I can tell myself it’s part of my plan, but logic is slipping from my mind under this sensual onslaught; Sebastian’s tongue sliding into my mouth, as his hands glide softly over me, tracing a path over my hips, sinking into my hair, skimming over my chest—
I gasp against his mouth as his thumb brushes my breast, bare beneath the silk. Pleasure blossoms, and every nerve ending in my body sparks to life. Sebastian caresses it again, bringing my nipple to a stiff, aching peak, and God, and I feel wetness gathering between my thighs.
More. I want more.
As if hearing my silent plea, Sebastian releases my mouth, and trails kisses along the side of my neck, his hands guiding me to lay back on the couch. His weight presses me down, and the feeling is incredible. I’m pinned beneath him, lost to the pleasure of his soft caress and slowly wondering tongue as he laps against my delicate skin.
I want it. I want him.
I feel drunk, but I know that I can’t excuse this on alcohol. I wish I could just blame this dark desire on the whiskey, but the truth is that I’m intoxicated by his touch. I’ve never felt like this before, never shuddered for a man in this way.
It’s part of the plan.
I cling to that thought as he nips at the place where my neck and shoulder meet, making me moan out loud. It’s part of my game, that’s all.
It doesn’t matter that I like it. Want it.
