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“What do you take me for, a fool?” He reached over me to retrieve the small bottle from under a pillow. “But first, turn over.”

He grabbed my hip, twisting me so I was on my hands and knees. His cool lips pressed against one of my cheeks, then the other. Then his hands guided my thighs apart as his mouth moved lower, trailing kisses against the inside of my thigh.

He brought one of my balls into his mouth.

I cried out, my volume only increasing when he began lavishing it with gentle sucks.

He did the same to the other one as his hands smoothed reverently up the back of my thighs.

His touch was tender, worshipful, his fingers pressing patterns into my skin.

When his breath ghosted across sensitive flesh, followed by the first careful press of tongue, I lost all coherent thought.

My world narrowed to pure sensation. He started with just the rim—gentle, teasing circles that had me gripping the sheets.

Gradually, he increased the pressure until I was trembling beneath him.

I tried to keep still, I really did, but my body betrayed me, demanding more of his touch.

My thighs widened as he worked me with his tongue, each careful thrust drawing desperate sounds from my throat.

My head fell forward into the pillow, muffling my stream of curses as he explored with devastating thoroughness, alternating between broad strokes and precise attention that left me gasping.

This wasn’t merely sex.

This was worship.

“Seb…” I managed between ragged breaths, my whole body aflame with need.

The click of the bottle cap made my stomach flip. Cool liquid dripped between my cheeks, making me shiver, but his hands were there instantly, catching the escaping drops and pushing them back up.

“Do you touch yourself?” he asked, and I almost choked.

“ Yes. ”

“While you think of me?”

If only he knew how many times in the last week.

“Yes. Fucking hell, yes. ”

When the first finger breached me—ever so slowly, ever so carefully—my breath caught in my throat.

Seb leaned over me, body blanketing mine to brush his lips across my shoulder blades, trailing gentle kisses along my skin.

He pushed deeper, so deep I cried out, but his mouth was there to catch the sound.

I sucked on his tongue, matching the rhythm of his finger, losing myself to the dual sensations.

He let my mouth go, and I panted, resting my forehead on my clasped hands.

When he added a second finger, the slight burn made me hiss, but his voice was there, soft and adoring. “My sweet angel. Mi amor. You’re doing so beautifully.”

I melted into the mattress, boneless with pleasure. He shifted to lie beside me, his calf sliding against my leg as his fingers worked deeper, searching. When they found that spot inside me, sparks exploded behind my eyes.

“Now. I need you now ,” I pleaded, because I needed him inside me more than I needed air.

“How do you want this?” he murmured against my shoulder.

“Want to see you,” I said breathily. “Need to see your face.”

He helped me turn onto my back, settling between my thighs. Looking up at him—at those dark eyes filled with such tender intensity, at the way his curls fell across his forehead—my heart squeezed in my chest. This felt like more than just desire. More than just need. This felt like falling.

The London night sky wheeled above me, stars blurring through my half-closed eyes as sensation overwhelmed me: Seb’s voice, low and honeyed, promising to take care of me; the solid weight of him between my trembling thighs; the slick pressure of his cock teasing against me.

Then he was pushing in—slowly, so slowly—and everything else ceased to exist except that single point of connection.

My fingers scrabbled against his shoulders, seeking anchor as he filled me impossibly deep, each inch stretching me wider than I thought I could take.

When I found my voice, it came out broken. “Seb, I can’t— It’s too—”

He caught my lips with his, swallowing my gasps as he pressed deeper still.

The stretch was overwhelming, burning and perfect and too much all at once.

I whimpered into his mouth, my body caught between wanting to pull away and wanting to draw him deeper, until finally—finally—he stilled, fully seated inside me.

When I managed to open my eyes, the reverence in his expression stole what little breath I had left.

He leaned down to kiss me, then rested his forehead against mine. Though he didn’t need to breathe, his chest rose and fell rapidly against mine, as if he was trying to draw me into himself. His breath ghosted across my lips, sweet and cool.

“There aren’t words to describe how incredible you feel,” he whispered.

He rolled his hips—just the smallest movement—and I clutched his shoulders, a broken sound escaping my throat.

“So perfect,”—another gentle thrust that made stars burst behind my eyes—“so beautiful.” My vision blurred as tears gathered, but I couldn’t look away from his face, couldn’t bear to miss a single moment of seeing him like this.

“How does it feel?” he murmured, brushing his lips against my temple.

“Wonderfully full,” I gasped. Every sensation built upon the last, waves of pleasure crashing through me until the London night seemed to press in around us, pushing us closer together.

I’d never felt anything like this—like I might shatter if he moved, might die if he didn’t.

The universe had condensed to this single moment, to his body against mine, inside mine, completing me in ways I hadn’t known were possible.

“This is so intense,” I gasped as his crown hit that spot again, my fingernails biting into his shoulders. “Is it always like this?” Please don’t let me go. Not ever.

“No, Flynn,” he breathed against my neck. “It’s never like this.”

“Come closer,” I pleaded, trying to draw him even deeper. “I need you closer.”

“I can feel you.” His voice was full of wonder. “Every single beat of your heart. You make me feel so alive, like everything before was just leading me here, to you, to right now.”

A particularly deep thrust stole my breath, pleasure crackling through every nerve ending. Then the words tumbled from my lips, a wavering rush I couldn’t stop: “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

He went utterly still above me, those dark eyes searching mine with an intensity that made my heart stutter.

“I know I’m falling in love with you.”

His hand found my aching cock, stroking in time with his thrusts, each touch tender and gentle. In that moment, I knew with bone-deep certainty that I belonged to him, belonged with him. My body, my heart, my soul—all of it was his now, had maybe always been meant to be his.

“Fly for me, angel,” he murmured, voice thick with emotion. “Fall apart for me.”

My fingers tangled in his curls as the pleasure built, higher and higher, my body opening to him completely.

When it finally crashed over me, I shattered into stardust, euphoria splitting me wide open.

Every colour in existence exploded behind my eyes as I spiralled through the darkness, coming undone below him.

Hot cum pooled between us, warm and sticky on my stomach, and when Seb whispered, “Let me taste you,” I didn’t hesitate. I gathered some on my trembling fingers and pressed them to his lips, watching in awe as he sucked them clean with his quick and eager tongue.

The sight of it sparked something primal in me—a desperate need to give him everything, all of me.

“Bite me,” I begged, tilting my head back.

“Take me. Take all of me.” When he hesitated, a wild thought flashed through my mind—that I’d drag my own nail across my throat if I had to—but then his fangs were there, pressing against my skin, and I arched up to meet them.

The sharp sting of his teeth piercing my skin made me gasp, but the fullness of him still inside me and the knowledge that I was sustaining him transformed the pain into something precious. When he latched on and began to suck, my fingers found their way into his curls, stroking down his back .

Every pull of Seb’s mouth sent waves of ecstasy pulsing through me. The dual pleasure from both his bite and his continued movement inside me was unlike anything I’d known—it amplified every sensation, and my cock twitched, unbelievably hardening once again.

He drank and drank and drank, and I let him take, take, take , floating in a haze of paradise and surrender, each swallow of my blood drawing us closer together until I couldn’t tell where I ended and he began.

The stars above me blurred into streaks of light, and my limbs grew heavier with each passing second, as if I was sinking into deep water.

“Seb,” I managed weakly. “Let me see you again. Please.”

He made a sound deep in his throat as he pulled away. His tongue traced over the wounds with impossible gentleness, sealing them with careful strokes that sent little shocks of pleasure through my oversensitive body, and I was unable to stop the small whimper that escaped my lips.

When his eyes finally met mine again, they were wild, pupils blown wide. “Lord above me, your blood …” He sounded utterly undone. “It’s like nothing I’ve ever known.”

His hips snapped forward with new urgency.

“You taste of summer storms.” Thrust.

“Of starlight and salvation.” Thrust.

“Like everything I didn’t know I was searching for.” Thrust.

“Like mine.”

The force of his thrusts drove the breath from my lungs, pleasure bordering on pain in the most exquisite way.

My body felt insanely sensitive after coming, after the bite, but I welcomed every savage snap of his hips.

The raw possession in his voice made me feel claimed, marked, owned —and I wanted it, wanted to belong to him completely.

My hands scrabbled against his back as I tried to draw him even deeper, desperate sounds falling from my lips that I barely recognised as my own.