More Than Friends (4 page)

Seb had no idea what made him do it, what clicked in his mind and made him act, but impulse took over. One minute Lucy was wrapped in his arms, pressed against his body, the next he’d backed her against the wall and ripped her top in two. Grabbed the neckline with his hands and torn it clean in half, from the top to the bottom, so it hung open, leaving her white lace bra exposed to his hungry—no, his starving—gaze.

The image of her in the bathtub was fantasy overload, the sight before him visual overload. A surge of adrenaline coursed through his veins, and he grabbed a delicate lace cup in each hand and yanked down, ripping them both off their seams.

“Seb!” His name was a stunned gasp, and it only amplified the adrenalin rush.

Using the wall to support her back, he took hold of her under her arms and lifted her so she hung from his hands, her body flat against the wall. He lifted her until the beautiful breasts he’d pictured just minutes ago now sat at his mouth level, full and swollen as they’d been in his imagination, her nipples a dusky pink, framed by the tattered remains of her bra.

Seb dipped his head, opened his mouth and suckled on one nipple.

“Oh, God!” Lucy’s scream reverberated through the bathroom, and Seb sucked harder, felt the nipple bead on his tongue, felt Lucy arch her back, press her breast hard against his mouth and grab hold of his shoulders.

She dug her nails into him again, scratching his skin, sending sharp twinges of pain skittering down his back.

He bit her, hard enough that another feminine scream echoed across the walls, before he traced his tongue over the bite, easing the burn.

Lucy sobbed his name, and he pulled back to catch his breath.

Her nipple was red, wet and even more swollen than before. Her chest heaved and a vein pulsed in her neck.

She kicked against the wall, then against his thighs, then her legs were wrapping around his waist, and she was hanging on to him, clasping his lower body to hers, as tight as he’d clasped her to him before.

“Other one,” she begged. “Kiss the other breast.”

He did. He kissed it, nipped at it, suckled on it and when a soft keening sound filled the air, bit it.

Jesus, what was it with the biting? When the fuck did he ever bite a woman?

Never, that’s when.

But with Loo it was different. With Loo it was essential. He had to bite. Had to taste her, had to…mark her.

Mark her. Fuck yeah. That’s exactly what he had to do.

He released her nipple and nibbled his way up the swell of her full globe, opened his mouth again and feasted on the sensitive skin of her milky-white breast.

He sucked gently at first, scraping his teeth over one particular spot, drawing his tongue over it, once, twice, twenty times. But the sucking became fiercer, the urge to mark her more primal, and finally his teeth stilled, his tongue flattened, and he pulled at her with his mouth, the action rougher, insistent and continuous.

Lucy twisted her hips frantically, pushed against his groin, pressing her cunt to his erection, riding him where he stood. Her grip tightened, and Seb realized he wasn’t the only one leaving a mark. He’d have visible scratches on his shoulders tomorrow.

He sucked harder, and harder still, until Lucy swore at him—even as she rubbed her pussy against his cock.

Seb raised his head to survey his work.

A red mark glistened on the swell of her left breast. A round, angry love bite that would leave its imprint for at least a week.

Chapter Three

Lucy stared down at her chest, saw the shredded remains of her bra, the glistening mark Seb had left, and gasped.

He smiled. Not at her, but at his handiwork. A smile Lucy had never seen on his face before. Possessive, satisfied. Greedy.

What was he doing? Moments ago he’d apologized for not feeling the same way she did, and now…? “I thought you weren’t interested, Sebastian. Thought you were just my friend. What are you thinking?”

“I’m not thinking at all.” The lustful glaze to his eyes corroborated his statement. “Fact, the last rational thought I had was that you’d fucked yourself in that bath, imagining it was me making you come.”

He shifted away from the wall, loosening his hold on her, and Lucy instinctively dropped to her feet, supporting her own weight. Which apparently suited Seb just fine, because the second her feet touched the floor, his hands were on her button and zip, undoing her jeans and pushing them over her hips.

“Now I’m gonna make you come for real,” he told her. Or rather, he told her bellybutton, as he’d just sunk to his knees as he tugged on her pants.

She wore her skinny jeans. The ones that took her a good few minutes to put on, they were so tight. The ones she had to dance into, twisting her hips and legs one way then the other in order to get them on.

And there was Seb, getting them off. Pushing them down her legs with concentrated effort.

Lucy didn’t dance now. She simply stood, breathless as he worked them over her thighs and knees. How many times had she fantasized about him doing just this?

“Gonna make you come so hard, Lucy-Loo. Gonna be as dirty and as filthy as you need me to be. And then even dirtier than you dreamed.”

Her jeans hit her ankles, and he abandoned them, as if he’d lost interest in the menial task.

He
had
lost interest. His attention was now focused on her belly, on the spot where his lips had attached themselves to her skin.

Lucy locked her knees, praying to God they’d stop shaking. But how could they stop shaking when she herself was so shook up? Shaken to her very core.

Talk about behavior swings. Seb’s behavior had taken her from one extreme to another in minutes. From utter devastation and desolation to insatiable desire. From stone-cold humiliation to red-hot arousal.

From alone and lonely to admired and craved.

He sucked hard, leaving no doubt that he was giving her another love bite.

She should stop him, push his head away. She didn’t need bruised and broken skin reminding her of his scorching attack. But she didn’t have it in her to push his head away. Didn’t want to. His mouth felt so good there, his lips so soft, his tongue so hot.

Liquid heat pooled in her pussy, making her squirm.

As if he knew exactly the effect his suckling had on her, he released the sensitive skin of her belly and zoned in on her pussy, lowering his head, pressing his cheek to her mound and inhaling deeply.

A moan tore from her lips as he ran his finger over the crotch of her panties.

“So fucking wet,” he muttered, and dipped his finger into her panties, sliding it unerringly across her slit.

The liquid heat spilled out, wetting his hand.

Seb gave an appreciative moan. “For me, Loo? Is all this cream for me?”

“Uh-uh, Seb,” she bit out, perplexed by his seduction, angry at her lack of will to put an end to it and plain horny as hell. “It’s all for me, so I can masturbate with ease.”

No sooner were the words out her mouth then she regretted them. Not because she shouldn’t have said them, but because Seb looked up at her with a gaze so wicked, her stomach lurched.

He grinned. A grin that made her heart flutter wildly. There was nothing polite in that smile. Nothing genteel. It was a smile that highlighted every one of his dirty intentions.

And every one of those intentions made Lucy’s knees shake even harder.

Seb stood, stepped backward and turned to look in the cabinet that she hadn’t had a chance to close. He withdrew something, laughed a sinful laugh and was back on his knees before she’d had time to draw adequate breath.

Lucy felt him grip her panties, heard a snip and the material slackened around her hips. Another grip, another snip and the panties dropped.

Seb caught them before they hit the ground. He drew them over her leg and up her thigh and brought them to his nose, inhaling deeply.

“Fuck,” he growled. “You smell good. Like sex and woman.” He inhaled again and tossed whatever he held in his other hand over his shoulder. It landed with a clunk in the bath.

Her nail scissors.

Seb draped the cut panties over his shoulder and left them there. Then he took her hand in his, lifted it to his face and drew a finger between his lips, sucking it in.

The hot, moist cavern of his mouth felt shockingly sensual, and she complained when he released her finger. But he just smiled that sinful smile and held up her hand. “Show me. Let me see how all that cream makes it so easy to masturbate.”

Lucy’s eyes popped open and her jaw dropped.
Hell, no. No way
.

It was one thing confessing what she’d done. It was another doing it in front of him.

“Show me, Loo. Show me so I don’t have to be tormented by my imagination. Show me so I know exactly how dirty, how sexy you look when you fuck yourself while thinking of me.”

She swallowed, her throat bone dry. The plea should horrify her, should tie her up in knots. But it didn’t. It made her hotter. Or perhaps the look in his blue eyes made her hotter. The blue eyes that were a shade darker than they’d ever been, the dazzle banked by desire.

“Show me.” His tone was more demanding now. He moved her hand, pressed it against her pussy, pressed his own hand over hers, guided her finger down to her soaking slit. “I’ve never seen my friend come before. Fuck yourself while I watch.”

Cheeks burning, Lucy pushed her finger over her slick folds.

Jesus, she was wet. So wet her finger skimmed easily over her pussy, the touch so light she shivered.

“That’s it, babe. Now harder. Show me how you really fuck yourself. Don’t hold back.”

She pressed down harder, let her finger slip between her lips, and pushed inside her slippery channel.

Seb hissed in a breath. Her gaze found his face, but he didn’t notice. His gaze was on her hand and on her pussy. Fixated there. Movement caught her eye, and when she looked lower, it was to see Seb pressing against his groin, holding his erection through his cargos. His cheek twitched and his jaw clenched, yet still he watched, waiting for her to make the next move.

Lucy threw caution to the wind. It was difficult to hold on to caution with her finger in her pussy, Seb’s hand on his cock and her fantasy turning into reality in her bathroom.

She gave herself over to the moment and did what felt good, what felt right. What felt necessary. She fucked herself, losing herself to sensation.

She pumped her finger into her pussy, as deep as it would go, withdrew it, then pumped it in all over again. Good. So good. So essential. If she didn’t touch herself, she’d slowly implode from need.

The hunger in his eyes urged her along, and she let her forefinger stroke over her clit as her middle finger caressed her drenched folds. She drew her legs as wide apart as she could, restricted by the jeans around her ankles. Wide enough that Seb’s eyes darkened appreciatively.

Masturbating to the image of Seb’s face in her mind had been a turn-on. Masturbating while he watched was…sublime. Mind blowing. It took her from zero to a hundred in seconds. Had her cresting the edge of an orgasm almost immediately.

She caressed harder, rubbed faster, moaned.

And Seb stilled her movements. Withdrew her fingers and again pulled her hand to his mouth. Then he proceeded to lick every finger clean, his eyes closed as though he relished the taste of every drop. He hummed his appreciation.

The action halted her orgasm, but it only added to the sensuality of the moment, keeping Lucy on a razor’s edge. Her hunger grew, liquid seeped from her pussy and she had to clench her legs together in an effort to find relief.

Seb noticed and laughed—that low, sinful laugh—then brought her finger back to her pussy. She didn’t hesitate, just resumed fucking herself, needing the release.

And then Seb upped the stakes. He leaned forward and placed his mouth over her forefinger, exactly where she rubbed her clit. And as she rubbed he licked. Licked at her finger, licked at her swollen nub, licked at the moisture that leaked from her pussy, his tongue warm, wet and wonderful.

His appreciative hum increased in audibility as his finger pressed inside her, so now he fucked her not only with his mouth, but with his hand as well.

It was sensory overload. Too much to bear. Too much to comprehend.

Seb, her friend and her fantasy, had his mouth on her clit and his finger buried deep inside her. He fucked her while she fucked herself.

She wrapped her free hand around his shaved scalp and pressed his head closer to her shaved pussy. Shaved because it reminded her of Seb’s head. Shaved so when Seb gave her head in her fantasies, she could feel every scrape of the late afternoon shadow on his chin, every lick of his warm tongue.

Only this wasn’t a dream. This was real, and the knowledge, the pleasure and the reality knocked the world out from under her feet.

Lucy came with Seb’s fingers in her pussy and her finger and Seb’s tongue on her clit. The release was so explosive, the relief so intense and the bliss so exquisite, it brought tears to her eyes.

She cried his name, over and over, the only solid thought in her mind. Seb. Her friend.