Waking Sebastian (6 page)
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Michelle wondered if that was what had happened with Sebastian. Did he anger someone? If, as the article had reported, the slaves had used him as a sacrifice, there must be some reason they had selected him. That was one of the questions she intended to ask him when he made his appearance.
“My desk looked much like this.” She jumped at the sound of his voice, knocking over her chair and moving backward quickly.
“I didn’t hear you come up,” she said, knowing the words sounded lame.
He touched the books, his long fingers stroking the spines. “We had books, parchment, a quill and ink, and a candle.” She watched him pick up her electric lantern and examine it. “How things have changed. Where is the flame?”
“It’s, um, electric.” She took a step toward the desk. “You really are Sebastian Maddox, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” He set the lamp down. “Are you a voodoo witch?”
“No.” The disappointment on his face made her heart drop.
“I was praying you had come to release me.” He looked at the ocean, then turned a grin on her that she thought would make her clothes melt right off her body. “If you are not here for that, perhaps we can pass the hour in more pleasant pursuits. Will you undress for me?”
Michelle’s hands went to her buttons, her eyes locking onto his. His blue eyes smoldered as he watched her, and the smile on his face was about the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. It was almost as if she were in a trance, as if she had become the mindless zombie and he the master. When she realized what she was doing, she moved her fingers to her hair, combing through the strands, but not before leaving enough buttons open to reveal her bra, and quite a lot of skin.
“What is this?” He put his fingers on her low-cut bra and tugged.
“It’s a bra—a sort of…modern corset.”
He traced a finger over the edge and Michelle shivered.
“You’re so soft.” He tugged on the bra and frowned. “How does it come off?”
“Stop!” She batted at his hand. “Listen, we need to talk. We can’t just…”
Sebastian put his hand behind her neck, pulling their lips together. She groaned as he slid his tongue into her mouth, licking at her until she thought she would die of pleasure. The kiss was extraordinary, producing a heady sensation that made her brain feel fuzzy.
“Sebastian,” she whispered against his mouth as he licked at her. “We need to discuss things. Please.” She pushed against his chest, praying his will was stronger than her own. Right now all she really wanted to do was throw him down to the ground, straddle him and ride him until the sun came up, which she knew would happening in just over thirty minutes. That still wouldn’t be enough time, she knew, to get her fill of him.
He took a step back and bowed. “I am sorry.” The pain on his face made her stomach clench. “I will leave.”
“No!” She grabbed at his arm. “That’s not what I meant. I want to know who you are, and how it’s possible that you’re here, right now. Why have I not seen you anywhere else? And how can you be here, at this spot at the exact same time three mornings in a row?”
The pained look on his face intensified, and she stroked his cheek. “Tell me.”
“It is part of the curse. For one hundred and eighty six years, I have come to this cove every morning to watch the sunrise. The voodoo priestess who bound me said it would teach me humility, to see what I had lost, to know I had one hour a day to enjoy life.
The ability to form words escaped Michelle as she processed what he had said. She replayed it in her mind, knowing it sounded impossible, but the proof of it stood in front of her. He wore dark breaches that looked as if he’d just put them on, but it was obvious they had been hand-sewn. His chest was bare, as were his feet. His blond hair streamed over his open shirt and down his chest and back.
“You’re a male sleeping beauty,” she said softly. “Except instead of a wicked step mother, there’s a voodoo priestess.”
“If you wish,” he winked at her and then licked his lips, “perhaps we should try the kiss again, to see if it breaks the spell.”
Nervous laughter rocked her body and she hugged her arms around her waist. “I’m afraid if I kissed you we wouldn’t stop. I want some more answers first. Do you remember what happened?”
He shrugged. “I remember going to visit Sarya, the slave girl who was my lover. The witch led me to a clearing where they placed me on an altar. I was deep in my cups, and don’t remember much about that night.”
Sebastian stopped talking and looked back at the ocean. Michelle could almost feel the sting of his memories, and she stepped up next to him.
“Go on.”
“The next night I awoke here, in the cove. I screamed at the witch, told her I would have her whipped. Then she explained that I was selfish, a horrible man. She said Sarya wished to wed and I wouldn’t let her, that I thought only to keep her for myself.”
Michelle tried to tamp down the threads of jealousy she felt about Sarya. What should it matter now, anyway?
“Was it true?”
“Sarya belonged to me. She served me in my bed.”
Michelle formed a rebuttal in her mind, but he spoke before she could open her mouth. “I was wrong, though. The witch explained to me that Sarya loved Nadim. At first I was angry, saying I would have him sold, break them apart. But as the mornings passed, I realized how selfish I was.”
He ran his fingers through his hair, which spread out in the wind. “On the eighth morning I was prepared to tell them how wrong I had been. But no one came. Not the priestess. Not Sarya. No one, until you.”
His voice cracked and Michelle swore she saw tears in the corners of his eyes. “How is it you know how long it has been?”
“When I awaken the number appears in my mind, and then suddenly I am here. I watch the sunrise, I mourn the loss of my life, and then I sleep again.”
What he was saying was so surreal. And his obvious pain ripped into her, making her heart ache. “Sebastian…” Words failed her and she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close. “How long…?”
“Until just after sunrise.” He stroked her cheek, then kissed her gently. “I have seen people in the cove from time to time, but no one has ever seen me. Not until you.”
He’d said that before, but the meaning of it didn’t hit her until now. His lips brushed against hers before dipping downward, kissing the swell of her breasts. “You mean no one else has seen you? Ever?” It was hard to concentrate while he was kissing her breasts, his tongue running over her skin.
“Never.” He pulled at the bra again. “Why does this not come off?”
Michelle giggled, then put her hands on either side of his head, lifting it so that their eyes were level. “It hooks in the back. But right now we need to discuss you, not my bra.”
“It seems such a cruel device, to contain your beautiful breasts so tightly.” He pushed her shirt off her shoulders and wrapped his arms around her. His fingers immediately found the ends of her bra and he tugged, trying to break them apart. “’Tis sewn shut.”
She laughed, snuggling closer. Her nipples were rock hard, the sensitive nubs rubbing against the satin of her bra. The idea that he wanted to touch her so badly made her body tingle with anticipation. They should be discussing the situation at hand, but how could she deny him if it had been one hundred and eighty six years?
Scratch that, it had just been two nights ago, really, when he’d brought her to orgasm. And what an orgasm it had been. The memory of the way her body quaked under his touch shot her desire higher. “Move your hands.”
He complied immediately and she undid her bra, letting it fall off her shoulders. He watched the material as it floated to the sand, then turned his gaze on her breasts, his mouth open in a perfect o before he licked his lips, and lowered his head.
Michelle gasped as he sucked in a nipple, his fingers working the other one as lightning bolts of pleasure shot down to her clit. He nibbled and licked until she gasped, pushing herself into him, trying to get him to take more of her. When she did that, he moved his mouth to her other breast, his hand sliding along her skin to torment the nipples his teeth and tongue had just pleasured so well.
“Sebastian. Oh good Lord…you need… I…” He pulled at the shirt still tied at her waist, then let it drop. When his fingers found her waistband, his mouth left her breast.
“What is this?” He pulled on the material, his eyes widening as it expanded.
“Elastic.” She pushed the skirt over her hips and let it flutter to the ground.
“I think I like that,” he said, his gaze focused down. He knelt, his breathe hot on her thighs. Michelle thought she would come just from him looking at her, from the feel hot air on her body. “Your quim is almost bare.”
“Yeah, I’m too chicken to do a Brazilian. I shave.” She looked down to see him staring back at her.
“Shave your quim?”
She nodded, the whole situation taking on a “this is too weird” aspect. “We should sit so that— Oh dear Lord.”
Sebastian ran his tongue up her slit, his arms wrapped around her hips to hold her close. Michelle put her hands on his shoulders as his tongue traced the line of her pussy before pushing into her wetness.
Michelle didn’t even try to push him away as he feasted on her, his tongue darting in and out of her lips, running up and down her soft folds until her body quaked. Her legs felt like jelly and she was sure if it weren’t for his arms around her hips she would fall down and sink into the sand.
He drove her mad as he wiggled around, his tongue exploring every inch of her he could find except her clit, which ached for his attention. She wanted to pull his hair, direct him to the sensitive spot at the top of her mons.
Within seconds, though, she found out he needed no direction. His fingers separated her folds, two fingers pushing inside her as his free hand grasped her hip firmly. He pumped gently. When she rocked into his touch, his lips found her clit, sucking it into his mouth slowly then nibbling just enough to send her soaring.
Her body jerked against him as her orgasm hit, the feeling strong and urgent. “Sebastian!” She wrapped her fingers in his hair, grinding herself against him as he murmured his approval, his fingers sliding in and out as he continued to devour her.
A second orgasm slammed into her and then she stumbled forward, one hand hitting the sand as she fell, her body still reeling from the feeling of pleasure. She glanced back over her shoulder to where he’d knelt before her. He was gone. She turned her gaze toward the ocean to see soft rays of sunshine lighting its surface.
“No!” The scream ripped out of her, leaving her throat dry and rough. “Come back!” She repeated the words over and over as tears burned her eyes, falling down her cheeks to drift into the sand. She buried her face in the crook of her arm and wept. An ache unlike anything she’d ever felt wrapped around her heart, squeezing.
She had to find some way to break Sebastian free of the curse. In a fairy tale all she would have to do was kiss him with the feeling of love that permeated her right now. And if she knew where he was she would try it.
The thought made her straighten. She may not know where his body was, but there was somebody who did. Marta. She’d said a member of her family had been a “guardian” here for years. While the words had puzzled her before they didn’t now.
Marta had been avoiding her, but Michelle planned to end that right now. It was around seven. The woman should be in the kitchen, cooking breakfast. Michelle stood and headed for the house, leaving her books behind. Marta was going to answer her questions this morning if Michelle had to pull the words out of her.
Michelle was surprised to find Marta sitting at the kitchen table. There were two cups of coffee poured, one of them doctored with cream and sugar, just as Michelle liked it.
She took a step toward the table, stopping just inches away from the older woman. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Marta took a sip from her cup, her gaze never leaving the screen door. “I knew you were the one, but I didn’t want to influence you. If I was right, you had to discover him on your own, and you did. The first night.”
Michelle sat down, ignoring her coffee. “Why are you keeping him prisoner. Release him.”
“I cannot.” The look of sorrow on Marta’s face matched the one Michelle had just seen on Sebastian’s. Somehow, Michelle knew that Marta would break the curse, if she could.
“Are you not a voodoo priestess?”
Marta nodded slowly, then took another sip. “The spell was performed long ago, and only the person who performed it can break it.”
Tears stung Michelle’s eyes. “Then there’s no hope?” As the words left her mouth she slapped her hand against the table. Marta didn’t move, didn’t even look her way. “There has to be something you can do.”
For a minute, Michelle thought Marta wouldn’t answer her. But then she sighed and finally looked at Michelle.
