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He makes a sympathetic noise as he continues to tease my breasts. “And they were nowhere near enough. I know you need to be filled up.”
It’s an effort to make my tone dry, not breathless. “Are you actually going to help, or are you just going to sit there stating the obvious?”
His grin is a flash of white in the dark. “Depends. You going to be a good girl and listen to me?”
Those two words are a siren’s call, shattering whatever remains of my defenses. In answer, I take his hand and lift his fingers to my mouth. I trace my tongue over his knuckles, then down each finger, then finally take two of them into my mouth, sucking until they’re good and wet. Relief floods through me at the expression on his face. He couldn’t mask the want if he tried.
He doesn’t hate me. He still wants me. I might’ve ruined any chance at more, but at least I still mean something to him.
“I missed you,” he murmurs. “Fucking missed this. Turn around, sweetheart.”
He maneuvers us so I’m sitting in his lap with my back to his chest. I tug off my shirt, near-breathless now, and he wraps an arm around my middle, squeezing tight. He hooks my legs over his and spreads them that way, so I’m restrained, kept in place by his body. His other hand strokes over my already-wet panties. He presses a kiss to the side of my head. “How far did you get?”
“Not far enough.”
“You missed me too, didn’t you? Saying my name in the middle of the night while I’m next door.”
My breath sticks in my throat. “Seb.”
He just kisses my hair again. “Mia.”
His fingers skim the top of my panties. “Go on, tell me.”
I try to twist, but he holds me in place. He continues to tease, playing with the scrap of fabric that’s covering where I need his touch. I know I’m not getting more until I give him an answer, but I’m not crumbling this easily. I wiggle, so my ass is more firmly against his hardened dick, and relish in his sharp intake of breath. “Miss is a strong word.”
He rubs my clit over the panties. My belly clenches. “Come on, angel. Be honest with me.”
“Fuck. Fine. I missed you.”
He tugs down my panties and cups my cunt. “Was that so hard?”
“I guess not,” I grumble.
He huffs out a laugh as he slowly strokes over my folds. For all his teasing, he doesn’t wait to push a finger into me. He adds another, scissoring them, as his thumb finds my clit. My head falls against his shoulder as my body presses down, seeking even more contact.
I didn’t forget a single detail—not his clean scent, or his soft hair, or his broad chest—but experiencing them again is making me dizzy. He’s so strong, his arm is a belt around my middle, keeping me in place effortlessly. He increases the pressure on my clit, wrenching a little sob from my throat. I’m right on the edge, wobbling but not quite falling, and every touch leaves sparks.
“Good,” he breathes out. “Come for me, gorgeous girl.”
He pushes in a third finger, stretching me enough it’s almost a good enough substitute for his cock, and uses his other hand to rub my clit. The effect is no doubt obscene; I’m spread open, moaning as he touches me all over with those long, talented fingers. A distant part of me wonders if tomorrow I’ll regret this, but right now? This is everything I’ve wanted, every moment of every day, since I walked out on him.
“Sebastian,” I say without thinking. My voice breaks halfway through, hanging in the warm silence.
He makes a soft noise, not a shush but a soothe, and curls his fingers inside me as he answers, “Mia Angel.”
I gasp, my nails digging into his thighs as I come. Stars swim in my eyes, dotting my view of his dark, neat room. He pulls out his fingers slowly, the drag an extra bit of pleasure all on its own, and sets them against my mouth.
I take what he’s offering, licking them clean as he strokes his other hand through my hair. His cock is a hot, solid bulge beneath me; I can’t decide whether I want it in my mouth or my pussy. I manage to turn around, balancing on his lap as I pull him into a kiss. I run a hand through his hair while the other strokes down the hard planes of his abs, settling at the waistband of his sweatpants.
As much as I love how he fills up my cunt, I want to feel him in my mouth. I want to taste his salt and musk. My mouth is already watering thanks to the promise of it, that familiar tug of want stirring again deep in my core.
He nips my lip. “Better?”
I nod, breathless still, and dive forward to kiss his neck. I bite down gently. “Wanna suck you.”
He catches my hand before it can get any further. “Not yet.”
I huff. “What?”
