A Prince's Ransom: Kidnapped by the Billionaire (45 page)

“Shh, Tobin,” he murmured, one arm looping around her waist while the other reached up and smoothed her hair back from her face before cupping her cheek. He leaned forward and kissed her, with a tenderness that defied everything he had been before, and she felt her heart thunder.

“You’re… you’re supposed to be making me something to eat,” she pointed out with as much firmness as she could manage, trying to stop this. This… this couldn’t happen again. It couldn’t. It… could it?

He laughed softly. “It’s in the oven. We have a little bit of time before its ready anyway,” Sebastian answered, opening his brown eyes and looking up at her sideways from where he was nuzzling her shoulder and her neck. “Let me make up… something to you, Tobin. In the only way I know how. Maybe it’s not a very good way, or even the way you’d like. But it’s the only way I know, and I know… I know I’ve hurt you more than you ever deserved to be hurt in your life. I’m so sorry for that.” He kissed her again, and she felt herself melting beneath the warmth of the showerhead. “Let me try to make up even a little bit of it, so that there is something beyond your heartbreak. I can’t stand to see your heart broken this way.”

“Sebastian,” she started uneasily, nervously, but her voice was quiet and unconvinced and she trembled a little bit as she met his gaze. He smiled at her, without the roguishness of his smirks, but with a sad sort of intensity. Then his head was turning, and he was laying slow, soft kisses along the curve of her jaw, down her throat, to where her neck met her shoulder in that fragile, tender curve. Tobin shivered and couldn’t find words to argue with him anymore, shutting her eyes and pressing herself back against his strength. He took that pressure readily, tugging her tighter, an air of protectiveness there that hadn’t been there before.

His other hand was moving, from her cheek, down over her collarbone to one of her breasts. With his skin still as rough as it was, it was hard to say that the touch was any gentler than it had been before—but there was something different about it. Sebastian cupped her right breast for a moment, gently rubbing the underside, until his fingertips started spiraling slowly inward, dancing across her skin precariously and making her eyelashes flutter. Even with the warm water rushing over her front, she could feel her nipple starting to harden, and Tobin bit her lip, some part of her not wanting to enjoy the sensation and so much of the rest of her… unable but to enjoy it.

Finally, after several long moments, his fingers found the tip of her breast, but he still just circled around the puckered pink flesh, making her knees quiver. His other hand slid up from her waist, rubbing at her stomach, until it was doing the same thing to her left breast, and she opened her eyes a sliver. She could see him caressing both of her large, soft orbs, almost seeming to relish how he was teasing her in such a moment, as her nipples hardened and wrinkled beneath the water. Only when both of her nipples were as erect as they were going to be did his fingers truly touch her—and she let out a moan as, between each thumb and forefinger, he twisted the tender nubs. First one way, and then the other, and she shuddered against him, gasping in delight. He was still slowly kissing at her shoulder, but she barely noticed as he tugged lightly on the rosebud tips.

That tug grew harder, though—and harder, and she let out a soft, faltering cry as he pulled upon her nipples with his soft insistence until the tips slipped free of his grasp and her breasts bounced back into position. He smiled against her skin. “Mmm… I did not realize you were so sensitive there, Tobin,” he murmured to her, and she swallowed hard.

“I’m usually… I’m usually not,” she told him softly with a faint blush, and she could almost feel his eyebrow lift mischievously as his smile turned into a smirk.

“Really, now? I might just have to play with them a bit more at another time, then—see what other little pleasure zones I can find.” He laughed against her, and then he was shifting, kissing down over the curve of her shoulder blade. One of his hands slid back down to brace himself against her hip, while the other gently moved her hair over one shoulder, so that the wet brunette strands fell across her breasts and exposed her back. Sebastian’s lips moved inward, to her now-bared spine. He stopped just at the base of her neck, his tongue emerging to lap tenderly at her flesh before he started to move downward—over the delicate S-curve, slowly, sensually. Her breath escaped her in a ragged gasp, and she was unable to move as he knelt in the porcelain tub behind her, his stubble scraping against her flesh slowly as he kissed every centimeter of that line.

“Mm, you taste good, Tobin,” he murmured to her. “But I already knew that. It’s a taste I don’t think will ever grow old, though.” She shivered as he chuckled, and his fingers slid downward, rubbing against the tops of her thighs—back and forth in a way that was almost mesmeric. At first, she pressed her legs together a bit more, but he didn’t try and quest inward, his lips still moving softly against the part of her spine that was as low as he could comfortably go, kneeling as he was in a limited space. As his hands just continued to rub at her thighs, though, she whimpered, and they spread slightly as she trembled.

All at once, he was on his feet again and turning her in his arms. His lips found hers, and he kissed her—ravenously, like she was used to, so that it was almost like she’d been long deprived of water that she returned it. Her arms lifted, wrapping around his neck, and her fingers laced through his now-damp auburn hair, pulling him closer. Sebastian let her, his own eyes shutting as he rubbed himself against her. Tobin could feel his arousal pressing at the inside of her hip, and she shivered; his hand moved from her waist and cupped part of her rear, rubbing and molding it against his touch.

He pulled back after a long moment, resting his forehead against hers as they both caught their breath. “It’s up to you, Tobin,” he murmured to her once he could.

Her brow furrowed in confusion. “What is?”

“How I finish you off, my dear. How I start to repay my debt to you, tonight. Personally, I would love nothing better than to experience your tight slit all over again, but tonight… tonight I want to give you everything you want. Anything you want. So what’ll it be? How do you want to be finished?” he asked, with a smirk at how quickly her cheeks blossomed a bright red at the lewd, utterly attractive way he spoke of such things. Tobin swallowed hard, her mind racing as she looked up at him, not having any idea how to answer him.

“Just my clit,” she whispered, startling herself with the sudden decision. “Your lips and your tongue—just on my clit. But your fingers… as deep inside me as they will go, Sebastian.” She glanced away shyly, and he laughed softly. “I don’t think you quite deserve a reward, for everything.”

“Fair enough,” he murmured. “Lips on your clit and fingers inside of you it is, then.” Without waiting any longer, he was tugging her around, so that she could sit down on the only part of the tub that allowed for sitting. She shivered to be out of the warm water again, but there was a brand new warmth pulsing between her legs, making her ache terribly. Having said the words aloud, she realized only now how true they were—how badly she wanted him to make her come that way.

Sebastian knelt down again, shifting a bit more to make himself as comfortable as he could get. His hands were on her knees, and he parted her legs; for a heartbeat, he leaned in and kissed her again, but then he was moving down, his gaze focusing on her pulsing, swollen labia. After admiring it, he lifted his fingers and parted her lower lips wide, slowly running his fingers down the inside of the tender flesh. Tobin gasped and jerked, then moaned and rested her head against the tile wall beside her. He smirked and then pressed two of his fingers together, rubbing their tips against her entrance for a long moment.

It was a single, fluid motion that speared his fingers inside of her, and she cried out, arching up and the fingers of one of her own hands digging into his shoulder. He didn’t seem to notice, smirking softly and gazing up at her flushed face. “Full enough, love?” he asked softly. “Or can you handle more?”

Her throat tightened, and she glanced down at her slit, where his third finger was very lightly teasing the bottom edge of her womanhood. Her breath shuddered out of her. “I can handle more,” she whispered, breathless, and he nodded. He pulled his fingers back, but only to line up the third one and press its tip inside of her as well. Another hard, fast thrust hilted his fingers inside of her and tore a ragged cry from her lips as she spread her thighs wider. He seemed to be able to tell without asking this time that that was all she could handle, because he was leaning down as he started to slowly pull back out of her.

Sebastian’s tongue emerged and flickered lightly at her clit. His other hand was still holding her lower lips wide, and she moaned, shutting her eyes and allowing herself to drown in the sensation. The movement of his tongue became quicker, harder, and he lapped at her like she was a popsicle, while his fingers were still moving slowly in and out of her. Her hand moved from his shoulder, lacing into his hair, pressing him closer.

“Suck my clit,” she told him, her voice husky with need and her hips jerking up against him. Instantly, his lips were wrapping around the only-too-sensitive button, and he started to suck on her. There was no slowness this time, though—it was all hard and harsh, and she squealed desperately.

His fingers started to move faster too, thrusting so deep into her, making her feel so completely full. One of her hands braced herself against the bathtub’s side, but her hips still moved, bucking against his face, his hands, as her own wetness gushed forth and her mind started to go blank with pleasure. Her nipples were still hard, and her clit felt like it was on fire, as she moaned and grunted…

And then, unexpectedly, his fingers inside of her spread. She shouted, feeling the digits pressed against the insides of her walls as hard as they could, rubbing as much of her as they could, and her eyes felt like they were going to bulge from their sockets. Tobin squealed, writhing, quivering, and then a ragged, harsh moan tore itself free in increments as her hips bucked against his chin, and she felt all awareness of the world spark away in a flash of white heat.

Sebastian had stayed with Tobin in the shower long enough for her to come down from her high, and then, even aware of his own arousal, he had left her so she could finish her shower. He had a feeling that he wouldn’t be able to ignore it if he were still naked with her—and when he’d said some part of him desperately wanted to make up any part of this to her, he had meant it. He had wanted it to be about her, fulfilling her desires instead of his own. Leaving the bathroom after drying himself off, he had gotten dressed again and headed back into her living room, raking his fingers through his hair and glancing at the pizza he had put in the oven. It wasn’t a pizza he had actually made. What he had attempted to make was soaking in a dirty casserole dish in her sink. He had deemed that not fit for consumption. The pizza was a frozen pizza he had found in her freezer. But that still counted as cooking her dinner, right?

The dog—Kate’s dog—was still curled up in his dog bed, and Sebastian smiled at him a little bit compassionately. One of Tobin’s cats had wandered over and was watching him from atop the nearby cat tree; he was glad to see that it wasn’t that slightly evil calico, and quietly endeavored to ask Tobin what her pets’ names were when she got out of the shower. He intended to stick around for a while, and he was fairly certain that he had convinced her for the time being that it was a good thing he would. Right now, she wasn’t safe. Right now, there was no length Capozzi wouldn’t go to in order to try and kill her, both to punish him and to make sure she couldn’t interfere with his enterprise. Sebastian wanted to shoot the man.

After ensuring the pizza wasn’t burning, though, he went and stroked the head of the silver feline gently; it purred and nuzzled against him for a few minutes before jumping down and sitting on the edge of the dog’s bed. It meowed and lightly brushed its paw against the dog’s back legs, but didn’t win a reaction. Sebastian knelt down and reached for the curly white fluff on top of his head.

“Hey there, little guy,” he murmured, recalling distantly how he had told Tobin that he was more of a dog person. It was probably hard for her to be around him anyway, right now, to offer a dog comfort when she was hurting so badly herself. One of the dog’s ears twitched at his voice, but he only let out a soft whine. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. I know it still hurts, but, you know, you have a great new owner to take care of you. I’m sure she’ll take just as good care of you as Kate did. And you have three new roommates. Just watch out for the calico, and you’ll be fine.”

He moved his hand away from the Bichon’s head, scratched down over his neck gently until he could slip his hand beneath one of the dog’s paws. This wasn’t refused, and he rubbed the chest and belly of the little animal, trying to give him whatever comfort he could. Tobin probably couldn’t leave treats out anywhere with her cats, but maybe he could find something and offer the guy a pick-me-up. He could definitely use it. As he was rubbing the dog’s belly, though, his head lifted slightly from the bed, and then he was shifting, rolling a bit more onto his side and lifting his front leg on his own.

Sebastian smiled. “There you go, see? Nice dog like you, someone will always be willing to pet you. It’ll get better, don’t you worry.” A movement from the corner of his eye made him glance toward the cat, but it wasn’t the cat; instead it was the tip of the dog’s tail wagging slightly, long, soft hair swaying back and forth like a flag.

“That’s the first time I’ve seen him wag his tail in all of this. Oliver knows something is wrong.” Tobin’s voice startled him, and he looked up but didn’t stop petting the dog.

“Well, I’m glad to help, even if it’s just like this. Oliver, that’s his name?” he asked her quietly with a smile. She nodded; she was dressed in just a bathrobe, her wet hair stringy and freshly brushed around her face. “Feeling a bit better?”