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My only saving grace was that Sebastian had left without another word.
I carried the scarf through to my bedroom, refusing to look at the dressing table where Sebastian had touched me so tenderly.
I’d never experienced anything like it. What was a simple hand job on paper would live in my memory as so much more. His possessive touches had made me feel safe, rather than afraid. He’d been towering over me, pinning me to him, yet I’d never felt more secure in my life.
There hadn’t been a shred of doubt that he’d wanted it as much as I had. He’d done nothing to disguise the hunger on his face. His hard cock had been pressed against my back the entire time. Once I’d come, all I’d wanted to do was kiss Sebastian’s perfect lips before falling to my knees to give him the same pleasure he’d given me.
I hadn’t expected him to reject me. Well, he hadn’t…not really. Leaving like he had, not even staying for the meal I’d prepared was far worse.
Folding the scarf into a rectangle, I laid it gently on my bedside table. It hadn’t taken me long to crochet it, but I’d felt such a sense of joy at the idea that it might keep Sebastian warm. That maybe he’d wear it and think of me.
Now it could be a reminder of my naivety.
I ignored the dinner, my appetite completely gone. I couldn’t think of anything but Sebastian. How he’d tried to push me away. The kind way he’d cared for me when I’d cut myself. How he’d told me he “couldn’t say no” to me.
Well, he’d said no eventually.
Exhausted by the day’s events, I made my way through my evening routine. I skipped the shower though. It was silly, but I couldn’t bring myself to wash off Sebastian’s touch just yet. I’d regret it tomorrow. Heck, with my release sticking to my skin, I kinda regretted it now. But I’d cope.
It took me a few minutes to work up the courage to remove the plaster on my finger, but when I did, I realised I’d been making a fuss over nothing. I must’ve imagined how deep it was, because there was nothing more than a thin red line, already healed over.
Another check in the ‘reasons to be embarrassed’ column.
It wasn’t until I was drifting off to sleep that I realised I hadn’t thought once about my date today.
Steve had been everything I was looking for. If a man could’ve been created from the list I’d put together, then Steve was it.
But it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough.
He wasn’t Sebastian.
Too bad I couldn’t have the first man to make me feel something other than apathy or fear.
Maybe I was better off on my own.
Dreams of Sebastian haunted me all night.
Him standing behind me, whispering dirty things as he coaxed orgasm after orgasm from me.
Underneath me, his cock stretching me wide as I rode him.
On his knees, his eyes flashing up at me as he worshipped me with his mouth.
I woke with a start. I didn’t even need to check my underwear to know I’d had a wet dream. That hadn’t happened since I was a teenager.
Maybe it was because I hadn’t been with anyone in so long. Having the orgasm of a lifetime after a prolonged dry spell was bound to leave its mark.
Now I had no option but to shower. It would be a shame to wash the final reminder of Sebastian from my skin.
It wasn’t until I stepped out of the en-suite, towelling off my hair, that I noticed something out of place.
I froze on the spot, staring at my bedside table. Sebastian’s scarf was gone. In its place was a small red zipped pouch.
Sebastian.
I dropped the towel and raced over to pick it up. A tiny voice in my mind whispered that I shouldn’t just assume it was him, that anyone could’ve broken in and left it.
But Sebatian had already…tested our home security once. And the scarf was gone…
