Hushed whispers

“Are you okay now?” Sebastian’s voice was deep, his concern evident in the way his eyes studied me.

After crying my heart out in his arms, he had carried me to his room. Now, I sat at the edge of his massive bed, my fingers nervously tracing patterns on the sheets. Sebastian sat beside me, his presence overwhelming.

I took in my surroundings. His room was devoid of color, bathed in shades of gray—his chairs, his sofa, the bedsheets, even the curtains. It was cold, impersonal, like the man himself.

But my gaze landed on the bed, and an unexpected pang of jealousy twisted in my chest. How many women had lain here with him? How many had tangled in these sheets, moaning his name?

“I asked you a question, woman.” His voice snapped me from my thoughts, his concern hardening into impatience.

“I’m fine. Thank you.” I mumbled, eyes fixed on my hands.

Sebastian sighed, running a hand through his hair. He stood, walked over to the nightstand, and pulled out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes.

“You smoke?” I blurted, surprised.

He gave me a sideways glance, pulling a cigarette from the pack and placing it between his lips. “What does it look like?”

Something inside me rebelled at the sight. Without thinking, I stood, walked over, and plucked the cigarette from his lips. Ignoring his raised brow, I strode to the trash bin and tossed it inside.

“As my supposed husband, I don’t encourage smoking,” I said firmly, crossing my arms. “So, you’d better stop. Or I’m not marrying you.”

He chuckled, low and deep. “If you weren’t mine, I really don’t know what I would’ve done to you.”

His words sent an involuntary shiver down my spine.

“Who told you I’m yours?” I challenged, biting my lower lip.

His eyes flickered to my mouth, lingering for a beat too long.

“If I say you’re mine, then you are.” His voice was final, unwavering.

The way he said it, so matter-of-fact, made my stomach twist. His confidence was infuriating.

“Put on a shirt,” I huffed, rolling my eyes. His bare chest was a distraction I didn’t need.

“And if I don’t?” He smirked, arms folding over his sculpted torso.

“It’s about to rain. You might catch a cold.”

He glanced at the window, noticing the dark clouds rolling in. Without another word, he turned, shut the balcony doors, and drew the heavy curtains. The room dimmed, leaving only the soft glow of the bedside lamps.

“I never knew you cared so much about my well-being,” he murmured, walking back toward me.

“Who said I ever did?” I shot back.

He smiled then—a slow, knowing smile that made my pulse quicken.

“So, you want me dead?”

“Why would you say something so barbaric?” I scoffed. “Death isn’t a joke. May the blessed Lord in heaven show you mercy.”

He stepped closer, his towering frame casting a shadow over mine. His gaze darkened, intense, predatory.

“Have you been touched before?” His voice was a low rasp, his words laced with something dangerous.

“Of course not. My body is the temple of God.” I lifted my chin, meeting his stare. “I keep this body for one man—my husband.”

His laugh was unexpected, rich and deep.

“What’s so funny?” I demanded, my irritation flaring. “Is it bad that I’m still a virgin?”

Before I could react, his hand was on my waist, pulling me flush against him.

“I know you’re a virgin,” he murmured. “I meant… has anyone ever touched you here?”

His hand slid lower, cupping the heat between my thighs.

I gasped, my body going rigid.

“Let me go!” I pushed at his chest, but he didn’t budge. Instead, his grip tightened, his fingers teasing against my bare skin beneath my dress.

In one swift move, he lifted me, carried me to the bed, and tossed me onto the mattress.

“Sebastian, stop!” I thrashed, but he was relentless. His hands pinned mine above my head, his weight pressing me into the soft sheets.

Then, his lips crashed against mine.

I refused him, keeping my mouth sealed shut—until I felt his fingers slip lower, brushing against the most intimate part of me.

I gasped.

And he took advantage of that moment, his tongue slipping past my lips, exploring, claiming.

I didn’t know if I should fight him or surrender to the strange, forbidden pleasure that curled through my body.

He pulled away, his breath warm against my lips. But his fingers… they didn’t stop.

“I want to taste you,” he whispered against my ear, his voice dripping with sinful promises. “Do you want that, baby?”

I whimpered, my thoughts clouded, my body betraying me.

His finger pressed against my entrance, teasing, testing.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “You’re so damn tight.”

A strangled moan escaped my throat.

“What… what are you doing?” I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.

Sebastian stilled. Then, he let out a dark, amused chuckle.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, his lips trailing down my neck. “I’m going to enjoy teaching you everything.”

Heat pooled in my stomach, an unfamiliar sensation that both scared and excited me. His fingers, still teasing my bare skin, had my body betraying me in ways I couldn’t understand.

Then, just as suddenly as he had ignited the fire in me, he pulled away.

I gasped at the loss of his touch. My eyes fluttered open to see him staring down at me, his expression unreadable. His jaw was clenched, his breathing heavy.

For a moment, I thought he would continue—that he would push me further into the dangerous territory he had lured me into. But instead, he let out a harsh breath and ran a hand through his hair.

He stood up.

Confusion swirled in my chest as I watched him stride toward the door without another word.

“Sebastian—” My voice was shaky, unsure of what I wanted to say.

He paused with his hand on the doorknob but didn’t turn around.

“Go to sleep,” he said, his voice low, controlled—too controlled.

And then, without looking back, he stepped out, shutting the door behind him.

I stared at the door, my heart still hammering, my body still tingling from his touch.

What the hell just happened?