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Sebastian suddenly stops walking and holds up a hand. I pause, watching him. But his gaze is trained on something in front of him through the trees. It’s a deer, head bent, sniffing in the undergrowth.
I freeze, hardly daring to breathe. The deer hasn’t noticed us yet, but I know enough to be sure that he’ll run away quickly if he senses us.
“Here,” Sebastian whispers, moving closer to me. I shiver, and it has nothing to do with the cold. “You take the shot.”
He hands over the gun, surprising me. With all the mistrust lingering between us, I wasn’t expecting him to give me a weapon.
It’s heavy in my hands. I shift my feet to shoulder-width apart to steady my stance as I bring the rifle up, putting the butt of it against my shoulder as I aim it in the direction of where the deer is standing. My trigger hand is on the handgrip and the other grips the stock.
“You’ve done this before,” Sebastian whispers, and I realize he’s moved behind me. But he’s so close, I can feel his warm breath on the back of my neck.
“I’ve fired a rifle,” I admit quietly, lowering my head until my cheek rests against the butt of the rifle, my line of sight directly through the scope. “My dad took me to the shooting range a couple of times when I was a teenager,” I add. “I learned how to shoot there with him. It was one of our rare bonding experiences.”
Skills I’d need in the Barretti world.
Sebastian reaches around and adjusts my aim. “Aim for the area behind the shoulder. You want a clean kill, so it doesn’t suffer.”
I’m surprised he would even care, but I do as he says, aiming carefully, my finger on the trigger. One… two… three—
I hesitate for a split-second, not sure I want to follow through. That’s all it takes. The deer startles, suddenly racing away into the forest.
I lower the rifle. “Sorry,” I say, but when I turn, Sebastian is watching me, looking puzzled.
“Why didn’t you take the shot?”
I shrug. “It’s a harmless animal. What gives us the right to take its life?”
He arches an eyebrow. “You pretend to have morals. How sweet.”
“And you pretend like you don’t,” I shoot back. “That’s what I don’t understand about you, Sebastian. One minute, you act like you’re a heartless monster, and the next, you’re funding orphanages, and trying to make amends for your crimes. Which is it? I get whiplash trying to keep up!”
“Which do you think it is?” he demands, grabbing my arm and yanking me closer to him. His eyes are blazing urgently, the tension rippling with every word. “Tell me, Avery,” he orders me. “Which side of the scales do my sins fall?”
“I… don’t know,” I reply, helplessly staring back at him. The heat shimmers between us, his face just inches from mine.
With a groan, Sebastian kisses me.
Yes.
I fall into the embrace, my heart pounding in my chest. It doesn’t matter that we’re wearing bulky coats. Just being this close to him makes my blood run hot in my veins, nothing but the silence of the forest around us, and my own racing desire, urging me on.
Sebastian curses against my mouth, then he’s pulling back, and reaching for his pants.
“On your knees, baby,” he commands me, freeing his cock. His breath is ragged, but the look in his eyes is pure steel as he leans back against a tree and fixes me with a dominating look. “Open wide and give me that sweet mouth.”
I’m the one with a loaded gun in my hands, but we both know, that means nothing. In an instant, he effortlessly takes control.
And I willingly give it to him.
I sink to the snow without a word of protest, already shivering with excitement. He’s hard, thick and demanding, and I part my lips obediently, rocked back there on my heels as Sebastian slowly presses his straining cock into my mouth with a hiss of satisfaction.
“That’s it,” he groans, as I swirl my tongue over his head. “Fuck, that’s perfect. You know what I need.”
And I do.
The flush of awareness spreads through me, glowing hotter as I angle my head, and take him deeper, almost to the back of my throat. Sebastian’s hands tangle in my hair, urging me on, and I lose myself in the thrust of his thick flesh, and his groans of satisfaction, and my own answering moans, humming deep as I work him with my lips, and tongue, losing myself in the rush of it all. The freedom of total surrender that only he can give.
“That’s my girl,” he groans, thrusting faster now, fucking my mouth without mercy. “That’s my good fucking girl.”
