Willow cautiously opened the personal gym’s door. It was a long rectangular room packed with enough standard equipment to open a gym to the public. The walls were a crisp white except for the wide ceiling-to-floor windows that revealed a different scenery: a lush green jungle. The gym was located on the opposite side of the house. She had never been back here before, but the view was a welcomed change. Sebastian was stationed in the middle of the gym, delivering swift but brutal jabs to a punching bag.

After he thanked her for allowing him to eat her pussy, he left her out on the veranda recovering from an orgasm while she tried to figure out what just happened. That was nearly three hours ago. Since then, their appearances changed.

Sebastian had cured his nudity with a pair of black boxing shorts. Willow was freshly showered and wore a turquoise tanktop with cut-off denim shorts.

His bare back faced her, a light sheen of sweat glistening on his sharply defined muscles.

She quietly entered the gym and moved towards him, rounding the punching bag to face him from the opposite side. He stopped his assault of punches, dropping his hands that were decorated in royal blue boxing wraps.

Willow gripped the punching bag from where she stood and positioned herself to keep eye contact with him.

“Give me your best shot,” she said teasingly with a light smile. Sebastian eyed her carefully and she recognized a thoughtful uncertainty in his green depths.

“I’m not a fragile porcelain doll, Sebastian,” she assured, swaying the extraordinarily heavy boxing bag just a little to encourage him. “Hit me.”

He shifted into his boxing stance and delivered a punch. She felt the force of it through the punching bag, but she knew it was watered down—most likely for her safety. She considered the act of reiterating to him to give her his best hot, but decided against it. She wanted to go with the flow of his routine, not go against the grain. She shifted herself to a different posture for better footing as she braced herself against the punching bag.

“You didn’t eat breakfast,” she said, clearing her throat. “It was really good.”

He smirked as he delivered another jab. “Ate something much better.”

A tingly wave of arousal pulsed through her at his words. She cleared her throat much harder this time and returned, “What you ate wasn’t breakfast.”

Another punch. “It was more along the lines of dessert, but I can never deny my sweet tooth.”

“I’m worried about you, Sebastian,” she said quickly, wanting—needing—to change the subject before it got out of hand.

Another punch, but this time there was a smidgen more force behind it. “You shouldn’t.”

“I should,” she countered, “and I will until you let me in. I know we had a rough start on this vacation, but for this marriage to work, we can’t build up walls against each other. There needs to be complete transparency between us.”

“You know everything about me.” Another jab, more force.

It was true. She knew about his past. He recited it to her as she aimed a gun against his head that night she saw that horrific video. Threatened him to do it or she’d walk away for good.

She wanted a fresh start on neutral territory.

She wanted to hear the truth without guns and threats.

“I want to hear it again,” she admitted. “I want to hear all of it again because I feel like I’m missing something.”

Sebastian struck the punching bag with a double jab. It was so quick and smooth that it mesmerized her. “You’re not missing anything.”

“Please, Sebastian,” she said with a subtly pleading voice. “For me. For us.”

He straightened his stance and backed away from the punching bag, craning his neck from side to side and rolling his shoulders before he undid his boxing wraps on his left hand. He gazed her carefully, a pensive glimmer in his eyes as he considered her words—her plea.

“I’ll do it,” he finally spoke.

A weak smile broke out on her lips.

“But not here,” he continued.

She nodded her head in agreement. “That’s totally fine. We talk in the living room or on,” she paused as the features of her face glowed with a bashfulness, “the veranda.”

His lips quirked upward slightly. “No, not at the house.”

She blinked in utter confusion. “On the beach then?”

“We’ll talk over dinner in town,” he revealed.

“You’re taking me out on a date?” 

“Don’t sound so surprised. I’m fully capable of functioning like a normal human being in public if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Willow casted her eyes downward, shaking her head. “I never doubted that you couldn’t. It’s just…you’ve never taken me out on a date before.”

A long moment of silence drifted between them.

“You’re right. I haven’t,” he admitted. He restrained his expression, but she could hear slither of regret worming into his voice.

“What time should I be ready?”

“Before sunset,” he answered.

“It’s a date then,” she said, a shy smile easing across her lips before she left the gym with butterflies fluttering around in her stomach.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

Three ice cubes clanked as he lifted the rocks to his lips and took a deep sip of bourbon. He enjoyed the burn that slid down his throat so smoothly and took another appreciative immediately after. He leaned back in the cushioned wicker couch on the veranda. A kind salty breeze licked at his face. It was potentially two hours before sunset. The sun was nice and low in the sky, teasingly hovering near the horizon—bleeding out a brilliant orange that mingled with the softening blue that still represented day.

So close, but not close enough yet.

Sebastian stared out into the ocean, watching the light simmer and dance across the waves. For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, he felt at peace with himself.

Never in a million years would he have thought that he would find a morsel of peace in his father’s house—on his father’s island. This island and nearly everything on it was owned by his father. Sebastian was no exception to the rule. However, there was only thing on this island that wasn’t in his father’s possession.

Willow.

She was his and his father nor Juliette couldn’t take her from him.

The ice cubes rattled against each other again as he took another sip.

Sebastian was clad in a sharp suit. His dark brown hair was slicked back nicely. He had taken the time to trim his beard. He looked presentable for a proper date. The kind of date that Sebastian had never taken Willow on. A decision, in which, he regretted. A regret that clenched him by the throat and brewed up a nice soup of jealousy and bitterness at the fact that Jasper took her on quite a few dates before him.

Willow never asked for much, but Sebastian should’ve known better than to take her “low maintenance” perspective for granted unwillingly.

He should’ve wined and dined her.

He should’ve showered her with gifts.

He should’ve swept her away to faraway places.

She had been content with what he had gotten her, but in retrospect, Sebastian now realized he hadn’t given her much.

Tonight, however, he was determined to change that for her sake and his. He now realized that he couldn’t trap her on this island with him to mend their marriage. He didn’t want this island to be her prison and her to be his prisoner.

He wanted to keep her to himself, but he now understood that he needed to show her off to the world. He needed to act like a proud husband in public as he did in private. He needed to treat her as his wife in public as he did behind closed doors. Being together shouldn’t have been a secret and yet, they both practiced it so religiously that it had ingrained itself into the fabric and philosophy of their marriage.

A marriage hidden from all.

He didn’t think anything of it at first before it was a difficult task to step out of the shadows when you’ve thrived in them for so long. It was difficult not to keep a low profile. He had perfected the ability to hide in plain sight and not to draw attention. He was trained and conditioned to believe that staying hidden kept you alive, but that couldn’t be applied to relationships, love, and marriages.

It was another step in the right direction even as he slowly spiraled down a path of self-destruction.

Another step closer to bringing her back to him even as he lost pieces of himself.

“Hey,” a soft voice said bashfully.

Sebastian had been in mid-sip when he heard it and his eyes immediately flickered to the direction it came from. He swallowed down the bourbon hard as he drunk in the sight of her.

His wife was leaned against the doorway. Her hair was a lush mane of kinky curls that fell about her shoulders and framed her heart-shaped face. Her soft brown skin had a mesmerizing glow. She wore a vibrant purple chiffon dress with an illusion necklace. The top skit of her dress was flowy and translucent, which revealed a knee-length solid skirt that hugged her curves and her sexy legs. The dress was the equivalent to a torturous tease, giving him peeks and glimpses of all the things he loved about her body.

It wired him up. His hands now ached to reach up under that damn dress to touch and worship those beautiful legs and the slither of heaven that dwelled in between them.

Willow bit the right corner of her bottom lip, the nervousness rolling off her was palpable. She pried herself from the doorway and stepped onto the veranda, slowly making her way to him. She looked like moving art in that dress. His green eyes trailed down her curvaceous hips as they swayed hypnotically when she walked.

She eased to a halt in front of him, putting her hands on her hips. “Are you just going to sit there and stare at me or are you going to say something? If you don’t like what’ve I’ve got on, just tell me what you think. I’m a big girl.”

Sebastian brought his glass to his lips for another taste of bourbon while his eyes swept over his wife’s figure from head to toe. His skull filled itself with filthy things.

“Do you really want to hear what I think,” he questioned, arching an eyebrow.

She nodded her head, staring at him expectantly. “Yes, I do.”

“I think you’re the most breathtaking thing I’ve ever seen,” he stated huskily. “I know I won’t be able to keep my hands to myself.”

Her mouth dropped open at his confession, but she recovered a split second later. “Maybe, that’s what I wanted all along. For you to touch me.”

Sebastian placed his bourbon on a small table to the right of wicker couch before he stood up, towering over her even as she wore tall wedged scandals.

“Think very carefully about that, Will. I’m greedy enough to take it for granted,” he said as he stood ahold of her chin and tilted it up, their eyes locking and their gazes unfaltering. The distant hum of an approaching speedboat lingering in the background, announcing that their ride back to the mainland was near.

“Maybe, I want you to take it for granted,” she said barely above a whisper as she plucked his grasp from her chin and carefully grabbed his hands, planting them on her hips suggestively before wrapping her arms around his neck. She craned her neck a little to nuzzle her nose against his, her warm breath brushing against his lips. Her mouth was barely two or three millimeters away from his, hovering there teasingly.

A ghost of a smile curling at her lips’ corners.

Sebastian’s hands slid from her hips to perfect round ass, giving it an ample squeeze. Her eyelids fluttered shut and she moaned a little. The sexy sound sent an encouraging jolt through his body. His right hand traveled down the curve of her ass before he gave it a nice smack. Willow tilted her head back slightly and let out another moan that was much louder and deeper. He attacked the curve of her neck with sharp desperate nibbling and wolfish kisses.

Willow breathed, “Claudio will be here any minute.”

“Fuck Claudio,” Sebastian said gruffly against her neck.

“That’s not very nice,” she said before groaning loudly when his palm came down upon her ass again before he gave it a possessive squeeze. Sebastian lifted his head from her neck, leaning it extremely close to hers. He drew her plump lower lip into his mouth with his teeth and tugged it darkly before letting go.

“Does it look like I’m a nice guy, Will?” When she didn’t answer right away, he gave her right ass cheek another thwack and she squeezed her eyes shut, gasping aloud.

“I asked you a question, baby girl. I expect a damn answer,” he said throatily, relishing in how she was melting in into him—falling under his spell. The sound of Claudio’s speedboat grew closer and closer.

Willow shook her head lightly and rasped out, “No.”

Pleased with her answer, he planted a kiss on her forehead.

“I can’t wait to show you how much,” he promised. She shuddered against him at the promise, the reaction made him grin.

The speedboat slowed to a stop at the private dock.

They stepped off the veranda and followed a solid path along the beach to the dock. Claudio’s eyes lit up with intrigue at the sight of Willow, but a sharp death glare from Sebastian drained the light from the handsome Brazilian man’s eyes. Claudio cleared his throat before chuckling nervously.

“Good evening, Mrs. Smith,” Claudio greeted with a smile, “and of course Mr. Smith.”

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Claudio,” Willow said with a warm smile as Claudio offered her his hand to step onto the speedboat safely with Sebastian steadying her from behind. She happily took his hand as she descended into the boat.

A charming toothy smile spread across Claudio’s face and he dipped his head, kissing the back of her hand as he held it.

“The pleasure’s all mine, señora,” he said, giving her a wink.

She giggled bashfully and Claudio joined in with his own amused chuckle, his eyes never straying from her face.

Sebastian wasn’t pleased.

He wasn’t pleased at all.

As if Claudio and Willow sensed his jealously, they both looked over to a brooding Sebastian and had their own little moment of laughter, exchanging looks with each other as if they were pals amusing themselves with an inside joke. A joke that Sebastian was apparently the butt of.

While Claudio navigated the speedboat away from the private island, Sebastian stared at the back of Claudio’s head, brainstorming ways to end the man’s life. His murderous gaze broke away when he felt a hand slap at his shoulder. Shifting his green eyes to Willow, she looked at him with narrowed eyes and pursed lips—a look of warning. The kind of look that demanded him not to harm a hair on Claudio’s head.

“Don’t you dare,” she mouthed, wagging an index finger at him.

Sebastian caught that finger and brought his mouth, kissing the tip while his eyes bored into hers.

A silent promise—a agreement—passed from him to her.

Her face softened.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

Deep inside the complicated town with colorful mismatched buildings was a thriving restaurant. They managed to squeeze themselves inside and found a table by the thickly occupied dance floor. The music played by the live band on the stage wrapped around them snuggly. Sebastian moved his chair to sit directly beside Willow, not hesitating to caress and stroke her thigh under the table as he spoke fluent Brazilian Portuguese to the waitress who in turn scribbled down what he was saying on her notepad. When the waitress walked away, Willow nudged her shoulder into his with an impressed smile.

“You didn’t tell me that you knew Brazilian Portuguese,” she said as she bobbed her head to the live band’s colorful music.

“My occupation sends me all over the world. In order to blend in, you need to be well-versed in many languages,” Sebastian said.

Willow grabbed his black tie and tugged at it, forcing him to dip his head closer to hers. She arched a delicate eyebrow as she smiled at him temptingly. “Are you saying you have a talented tongue, Sebastian?”

“It’s very talented,” he said, returning her smile with a dark grin of her own while he slipped his hand in between her draped thighs. She parted them and he stroked his fingers up and down her inner right thigh, dangerously close to the apex of her thighs. “If I do recall, I gave you a demonstration this morning.”

“You’re right,” she purred. “Now, I want your tongue for something else…”

Sebastian closed in to kiss her, but what she said next made him stop dead cold. “Tell me about your past, Sebastian.”

He pulled back slightly.

“You promised,” she said.

After a lengthy moment of silence, he said, “I did.”

Willow leaned up to kiss him softly. “Tell me, Sebastian. Tell me again from the beginning.”

He closed his eyes, savoring her sweet kiss. Before he could deep in, she broke it, licking her lips.

The kiss softened the burning pain that pooled inside of his chest as he readied his tongue to give her exactly what she wanted: his past.

“I was born to Phillip Nathaniel Mercer and Vivien Georgeman. Two individuals that had no business having a child. My mother had been a stripper at an upscale gentlemen’s club in the nation’s capital. My father was an ex-Army Specials Force officer who joined the CIA as a field agent. They crossed paths at the gentlemen’s club. It wasn’t love at first sight,” he said, his eyes locking onto hers.

Not like us, he wanted to add.

He remembered the first time he saw her as she jogged on the park’s path—in his path. Her determination shined bright on that dark early morning. She barely lasted two minutes into jogging, but she marched on the rest of the way even as she panted heavily. He past her by, admiring her perseverance from a distance, but the moment he saved her from that bastard who attacked her, he knew he wanted her but he didn’t act upon it right away. His desperate need to protect a woman he didn’t know—a woman he shouldn’t care about—terrified him.

“It was pure greed. My father wanted a beautiful brunette as a bedwarmer and my mother happily obliged for the sake of money. Their relationship evolved into something abusive and explosive. They both played a hand in the abuse they aimed at each other. The slapping, punching, choking, and biting were acts of normalcy in their fucked-up arrangement, but they couldn’t walk away from each other,” he said.

Just like the two of them couldn’t walk away from this.

Willow was nothing like his mother, but there was this agonizing feeling that he was turning into his father. Sebastian would never raise his hand to his wife, but his presence in her life was poison. Just like his father poisoning any chances of his mother becoming a decent person—living a decent life.

“My mother got the bright idea of poking holes in condoms to get pregnant, so she could trap my father. But Phillip did the opposite and left when she got pregnant with me. She couldn’t work at the gentlemen’s club anymore because patrons weren’t too keen on tossing bills at a woman with a growing belly. With no financial security, she ended up in a homeless shelter with social workers shoving pamphlets in her hand about adoption, but she decided to keep me for some reason,” he said with a cold smirk, “which I always thought was strange because she always told me that she wished she had an abortion.”

Willow winced at his unveiling of his past—the pieces he kept to himself when she demanded to know the truth as she aimed a gun to his head.

“It wasn’t until she had me did Dear Old Dad pay us a visit. Reconciliation wasn’t on his agenda. He wanted to a good look at his legacy. A legacy he didn’t ask for. My father didn’t want no part in being a father, but I guess he didn’t want my mother taking his newborn son back to a homeless shelter, so he bought a piece of land and a trailer for us. My mother made it her mission to make my life a living hell. In between guzzling down booze and cum from men she met at dingy bars, she loved tormenting me. Her little way of retribution, I guess. I was proof of the best of their worst sides. A constant reminder of my father, so she abused me for it. For something I couldn’t control. She loved to kick me when I was down. Make me bleed for a reason to smile. Bruise me to look at them like trophies,” Sebastian continued, his words streamed out of his mouth with such ease.

The pain of taking a trip down memory lane was therapeutic.  

Willow closed her eyes, shaking her head. His wife looked physically ill as he told her all the sharp edges that made him him.

“You don’t have to say any more, Sebastian.”

Sebastian placed a finger under his wife’s chin to tilt her head up. “I need to do this, Willow. Do you understand?”

She squeezed her eyes tighter and nodded her head slowly.

“My father slipped in and out of my life until I was about nine then he disappeared for good. I was short fat kid, but I wasn’t much of an eater. My mother taunted and ridiculed me for my weight, always trying to get a violent reaction out of me so she could justify why she hated me. So, when I lashed out, she could toss the fact that I was every bit of my father in my face like a fucking curse,” he continued on. “When I got to middle school, I met my future wife—”

“Giselle,” Willow said.

He nodded. “Giselle and I had an odd friendship. People could understand why a beautiful girl like her hung around a kid like me. Over time I realized that she liked fixing broken things and she fixed me. She made me laugh and smile. She made me happy. A feeling I had little experience with and I wanted more of it. The older we got, I wanted more. I wanted her. The older we got, I wasn’t some short fat kid. The fat melted off and I was a tall beast. I wasn’t a boy anymore. I was a man and I let her know that when I couldn’t wait anymore for her to be mine. She took me without a single hesitation and my eagerness got her pregnant during our senior year of highschool.”

“Her father, Harry, was a cop and thought of me as a son over the years. He wasn’t exactly pleased at first about the pregnancy, but he eventually accepted it once he realized that she and I were both eighteen. I made an honest woman out of his daughter before Valerie was born. By then, I had cut all ties with my mother. After we had Valerie, Harry convinced me to go into the police academy. I graduated with high honors and went into the force, eager as hell to become a good husband and a provider for my family. Eager to prove to my mother that I was nothing like my father,” Sebastian paused for a moment. “Then…”

Willow urged softly, “Then?”

Sebastian closed his eyes and took a deep exhale. “I was a damn good cop. I loved my job and I was eager as hell. My partner Mike was a seasoned cop always telling me to slow down, but I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. In my head, I always had to prove myself to my mother and father even though they weren’t watching. Even though they didn’t give a flying fuck if I was alive or dead. My partner and I had been investigating a drug operation for months. Four dead bodies were linked to the drug operation and the body count went to five—my one of trusted informants. Mike told me to wait for back-up but we heard gunshots in the traphouse and I was tired of waiting. We busted the operation. They gunned Mike down like a dog and I emptied a round in the operation’s tog dog’s chest…”

“But the others got away,” Willow finished.

He nodded. “Mike was bleeding out fast and I didn’t want to leave him behind. I thought watching him die was punishment enough, but those punks decided to avenge their gang leader by shooting…my daughter in the stomach while she slept and emptying a clip into Giselle’s chest.”

Willow buried her face into his neck, her hot tears wetting his skin. “I’m so sorry, Sebastian.”

He got revenge, but she didn’t need to know that.

At least, not yet.

That was how his father coaxed into to a Faustian contract.

“Everything’s fine now,” he lied as he brushed away her tears.

They both knew it, but she let him get away with it.

A promise of protection burning in her eyes.

The waitress appeared at their table with two alcoholic beverages, apologizing profusely for the long wait. Brandy on the rocks for him and a Caipirinha for his wife. Willow practically gulped down her drink as if to wash down the stark bitterness of his past. When she was finished, he kissed her hard. The restaurant faded to black and they were the only two in the world mending something that was broken and making it three times as strong. They tasted each other with hungry swirls and flicks of their dancing tongues, but their public display of want was interrupted when the waitress arrived with their dinner of panquecas and torta de frango.

They shared forkfuls with each other. During that time, Sebastian ordered his second glass of brandy and Willow ordered two more Caipirinha’s. When the waitress took away their plates, Willow stood up and tugged on Sebastian’s hand. She was a little wobbly from the liquor and there was a carefree smile on her lips.

“Let’s dance,” she said eagerly, nodding her head towards the crowd of dancing bodies.

“I don’t dance,” Sebastian stated.

“Fine,” she huffed dramatically. “I’ll dance by myself.”

She swirled on her heels and moved to the dancefloor barely three feet away. With a front row seat, he watched his wife become consumed by the music. She cocked her head back, her kinky curls cascading and swaying down her back. She raised her arms in the air, slowly twirling her wrists as she gyrated to the beat. The long skirt of her dress moved with her hips so fluidly, the dress felt like an extension of her.

He had never seen her dance like this.

Then again, he had never seen her dance at all.

This was a rare side of her that he had never seen in the flesh until now and it enthralled him. Beckoned him. Kindled him. He tasted his brandy and observed his wife, greedily taking in the sight of her sensual dance. The dance was so inviting, he ached to join her, but kept his distance.

He thought his restraint was well-measured until his body had a mind of its own and coaxed him onto the dancefloor, situating himself behind Willow. He placed his hands on her hips, anchoring her ass to him. At first, she was startled and jerked her head to look at him from behind due to the fact that she had been dancing with her eyes closed.

They moved against each other like a well-oiled machine.

She grinned at him excitedly over her shoulder. “I thought you couldn’t dance.”

“I said I don’t dance. I didn’t say I couldn’t,” he corrected her with a slight grin.

“Then why are you dancing with me,” she asked curiously.

He whispered in her ear, “Because I couldn’t wait any longer to touch you again.”

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

Willow stumbled onto the sidewalk from the restaurant, giggling madly. She was wobbly on her tall wedged scandals from the drinking and Sebastian contemplated on whether to carry her back to the speedboat himself. However, she was so bubbly and happy that he didn’t want to end the fun just yet. She swirled on her heels and fell into him, instinctively he held her up by the waist to keep her from falling. She crooked a finger at him to move his face closer. He obliged, but not quick enough as she wrapped her fingers around his tie and tugged at it roughly, bringing his bearded face dangerously close to hers.

“I want you so badly right now,” she said in a raspy voice with slight slur.

“I think you’ve had enough to drink.”

Willow pouted in an adorable way. “You don’t want me, hubby?”

“Quite the opposite, wife,” he assured.

“Then let’s do something about it.”

“First, we need to go back to the island. I believe public copulation is illegal here,” he replied, an amused grin stretching across his lips at his wife’s eagerness.

Willow vigorously shook her head, gripping his tie tighter. “I can’t wait that long, Sebastian. I need you now,” she said before she kissed him roughly. He growled in her mouth and she drunk in the vibrations.

The need to claim his wife had simmered within him for the duration of the night, but that kiss was the perfect motivation he needed to throw caution out the window. He knew the town quite well and there was an inn not too far from where they stood outside the restaurant. To make the journey quicker, he hauled her over his shoulder like a stack of potatoes and stalked in the direction of the inn, occasionally giving his wife a sound smack on the ass to keep her from waving at gawking strangers and trying to talk to them.

A short petite older woman stood behind the front desk, watching a soap opera on a small television with fuzzy reception. Her eyes cut away from the screen as he marched into the tiny lobby and her face scrunched in confusion. A stairwell was directly to the left of them.

With one arm secured around Willow to keep her balance on his shoulder, he used his spare hand to retrieve his wallet.

“Take as much as you want. Just give us a key,” he said impatiently as he tossed his wallet onto the front desk. The older woman hesitantly opened his wallet and took out the required price that was posted behind her on the wall. Nothing more, nothing less.

She asked him if his wife was alright and he informed her that all she needed was a bed to lay down in. The older woman handed him back his wallet, which he quickly shoved into his pocket and then she handed him a key.

After thanking the old woman, he marched upstairs and down the hallway until he found the door with the room number that matched the keychain number written on the oval white piece of plastic. He jabbed the key into the hole and twisted it roughly before he stormed into the room. He kicked the door shut with his foot and moved to the middle of the room, taking his wife off his shoulder.

Almost immediately, he impatiently shrugged off his jacket while Willow’s fingers unbuckled his belt and unclasped his slacks. Together, they unbuttoned his shirt and when his bare chest was revealed, she kissed, licked and scraped her teeth across his scars. He cocked his head back and groaned, his flesh searing from her exploring mouth. Then he grabbed the back of her head and brought his lips upon hers, thrusting his tongue into her mouth, kissing her ravenously. She pressed her palms against his chest and dragged her fingernails down his torso, scraping over the hardened features of his muscular body.

Somehow, someway in between the fondling hands and hot kisses, they managed to free him of his suit until he was down to nothing but his underwear.

Now it was her turn.

Sebastian swirled her around to face away from him and pulled down her zipper with a rough yank that was followed by the sound of clothing ripping. Willow gasped aloud in surprise before bursting into laughter. He helped her out of her dress and allowed it to pool to her feet, sucking in a breath as he unearthed what she was wearing underneath.

A strapless black bra and cheeky panties with so little fabric it could be constituted as a thong.

Willow bent forward as she crawled onto the bed on all fours, wagging her plump perfect ass at him like a challenge. He didn’t hesitate to tug her panties from over her ass, leaving them halfway down her thighs as he pushed her down onto the bed and rained kisses over her ass.

Sebastian loved her ass.

It was so soft, plump, and round.

So fucking perfect.

He had accepted the fact that he had become obsessed with it.

He loved touching and squeezing it when it was bare like this before him like a gift from the heavens, feeling the smooth warmth seep into his calloused palms.

He loved kissing, licking, and biting it and he knew she loved it too from the beautiful sounds that came from her as he did it.

His lips journeyed upward from her tailbone and up the curve of her spine. He knew she loved the attention because she groaned and shivered from it. When he bit the nape of her neck, she gasped and arched herself against him. He moved his head to nuzzle it against the side of her face from behind.

“Do you trust me, baby girl?” His voice was dark and husky in her ear.

 “Yes,” she breathed out.

“Good because I want to treat you to something different,” he answered.

“Different like what?”

“I’m going to eat your ass.”