by Sage, May
Bash wasn't sure he liked Josephine anymore. "What about you and Claudia?"
"We were also sent to Stormhall when we were old enough."
"How old?" There was an edge to his tone.
"Five. That's when our training starts."
His jaw was set. Huntsman training didn't start much later, but they weren't plucked from their parents' house.
"Don't pity me. It was all right."
But it wasn't. He could see in her eyes that it wasn't. Things had happened to her during her training. Things that explained why she was so closed off, so guarded. He could tell, just as he could tell she wouldn't discuss it with him.
“All right. I won’t pity you. But I may just kiss you, though.”
He wasn’t a saint, for heaven’s sake.
As no protest crossed her lips, Bash drew close to her and dropped his mouth to hers, tasting her sweetness again.
There it was. The peace, the fire, the desire he’d missed for two fucking weeks. He felt like he was breathing again after drowning. He felt alive.
He was just about to let go, not wanting to freak her out again, when Catherine pulled away and got to her feet. She turned around slowly and looked over her shoulder.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” she asked, before leading the way to her room.
Wordless
Cat had a code. A rule about the people around her. Back in Stormhall or here, she just didn't shit where she slept. It was common sense. The problem was that after sex, men expected more sex, or a clear break-up speech. Cat wasn't against repeating good sex, of course, but good sex was hard to come by. Most of the time, it was either boring or average. She was done after one night. Breaking up with a guy who lived just one floor below her was messy. A mess she couldn't afford.
But she wanted him. Simple. So she brought him upstairs and resumed their embrace.
The moment his hands touched her thighs, all words got stuck in her throat. She gasped as Sebastian inched his fingers up the hem of her skirt while exploring her lips leisurely, as though he had all the time in the world.
She shifted on the sofa to straddle his lap, looking down at his face, her hands on either side of his neck. His eyes were bright red. Hungry. Thirsty. With so much desire in his gaze, she would have expected him to rush, to pull his dick and stuff it right inside her. Instead, he kissed the line of her collarbone while caressing her thigh.
Cat opened the buttons of his light blue cotton shirt one by one, revealing every inch of his hard chest.
"This means nothing," she said, finally.
Sebastian chuckled against her shoulder, wordlessly biting the collar of her dress and pulling it down with his teeth.
She needed him to accept her terms. He had to agree it was just some no-strings-attached fun before it was too late.
"I mean—"
I mean it. That's what she was about to tell him. But his lips closed over the top of her breast, and he brushed down the strap of her bra, lowering the cup and wrapping his mouth around her nipple. Then, he sucked.
Words were overrated.
His tongue darted out, circling her sensitive flesh, until she was nothing but a spineless, moaning form curving into his touch. Cat whined when his mouth left her breast, but she was quick to shut up. Bash kissed down her stomach, hands on her hips, pulling her dress up. He flipped her around, laying her on her messy bed, and knelt at the edge, kissing her hipbone and then her inner thigh.
Then he laughed, looking up at her.
"Bunnies?"
Cat glanced down and almost died of embarrassment. Damn, she'd forgotten she was wearing white cotton panties with bunnies on them. She had fancy lace underwear, black or red silk, and also the occasional cute cotton shortie, but she didn't pay much attention to what she put on in the morning. Unless she actually planned on getting laid.
"A gentleman would have ignored that."
"Good thing I'm no gentleman. You know, Catherine, sometimes I think I might like you. I definitely like your mouth, and your breasts, and your ass." As he talked, the infuriating man edged around her panties, his fingers teasing her. She felt her insides contract, needing more, needing him to touch her right there. "But this underwear," Sebastian said, hooking his fingers at each side and pulling them down, "I actually love."
He slid them down her legs and gathered the panties in a fist before putting them in his pocket.
"You're not taking those."
"Stop me," he challenged, before diving face first at her pussy.
She might have tried, if her entire body hadn't frozen and then curved as she moaned. Fuck, he was good. Great. Sebastian's tongue was focusing on her clit, pushing it, licking it, while two fingers curved inside her. A trail of curses escaped Cat's lips. In Italian. Or maybe French. She couldn't tell. But she was shouting. Cat wasn't usually that vocal.
She brought her pillow to her mouth and bit down, self-conscious. It muffled her scream, but she couldn't stop fidgeting, trying to get closer and attempting to flee all at once.
"Oh, no, no, no. I don't think so." Sebastian emerged, but kept his fingers inside her, and replaced his mouth with his thumb, still toying with her. "The pillow goes. Or I stop."
If he stopped, she might die. And she'd definitely kill him.
With a groan, she threw the pillow down on the floor and winced, panting and doing her best to remain silent.
Sebastian moved up the bed, his right hand staying at the apex of her thighs, and returned to her breast—the left one this time.
"Scream for me, pretty girl."
His maddening fingers on her clit and inside her changed rhythm, pushing harder, and his mouth around her sensitive chest sucked and nibbled harder. Cat panted and moaned, writhing, needing air, until she crashed down the edge of a cliff she hadn't even seen coming.
Fuck. This wasn't supposed to be so good. She'd never come with a man touching her. Her wand and vibrators? Sure. But guys weren't supposed to actually know what to do with a female body. Especially guys his age. Sebastian must have had a great deal of practice, and she was grateful for his mastery in the art of sex. Grateful enough to crawl to him as soon as she was capable of moving and hook her fingers around the belt of his chinos.
"This needs to go," she told him, unzipping his pants.
He was quick to comply, removing his belt as she worked to free his hard cock from his black boxers.
"You don't need to—"
His sentence ended on a sharp hiss, because her mouth had taken the head of his cock, and her tongue was tracing its edges. She wasn't a master at sucking cocks, but after his performance, she definitely tried her best, taking her time. She licked the bottom from base to tip before taking the length down her throat, as far as she could go, and sucking. Her head went down, she sucked harder, breathing as she lifted it. Sebastian's hips thrust to meet her. He fisted her hair, and his nails scratched her scalp. She could tell he was trying to be gentle, but every time her mouth returned to the base of his cock, he thrust a little faster, tightened his fist harder. He grunted, and she couldn't recall ever feeling quite so powerful, like this hunter, this beast, was at her mercy. Right now, she could have demanded the moon and he would have asked whether she preferred a silver or golden bow on it.
"Shit, Catherine, I'm gonna come. You should stop…"
Stop? No fucking way? She blew him harder and faster, feeling his butt tighten under her hands, his thrusts become faster, shallower. He panted before tightening everywhere. Catherine sucked him right in her throat, immediately swallowing the salty, acidic cum without tasting it. No one needed that on their tongue.
Sebastian let go of her hair, bent forward, and laughed. "Shit, woman. They always say the crazy ones are better in bed."
"Oh, I'm crazy?"
He turned on his back and pulled her close. "Absolutely. Crazy beautiful. Crazy good at head. And, in a minute, crazy good at taking cocks, too."
She snorted. "How presumptuous of you. What makes you
think I want to take your cock anywhere else?"
"Oh, I see the lady may need a little more convincing."
He climbed on top of her, arms either side of her face, his dick, already hard, right against her entrance. He rubbed himself against her, instantly awakening every part of her. Then Sebastian kissed her again. This time, it was demanding. No more patience and sweetness. He fucked her mouth with his tongue, and fucked her clit and pussy lips with his cock. He fucked her thighs too. She was dripping, moaning, her thoughts incoherent again.
"Tell me now how you don't want my cock, Catherine."
"Please!"
Fuck. She wasn't even sorry about begging. She needed him.
"Please what, crazy, beautiful Cat?" He stilled. "Do you want me to stop?"
Desperately, she yelled, "No, please! Please don't stop. I need you. I need you inside me now!"
He grinned and kissed the top of her head before entering her in one hard thrust, filling her so deep.
"Now," he said, tilting his hips forward as Cat clutched the sheets, mouth hanging open, "we may discuss what this means."
He punctuated his words with another deep thrust that made her feel him everywhere inside her.
Sebastian knelt again, lifting her hips so that he hit her at just the right spot, and swayed his hips. Cat brought her hands to her breasts, squeezing them.
"God."
"To me, this means I like you. And that I trust you enough to not plant a knife in my back as I come."
She would have replied, but she was too busy seeing stars, robbed of speech and vision, incapable of the slightest clear thought.
"And it means you like me."
His thumb was on her clit, pressing it, pinching it, and in that moment, she didn't like him at all.
"You may, of course, stop liking me, or stop wanting me. And I could potentially cease to like you. Lose my mind and stop desiring your tight, hot, perfect pussy. If either of those things do occur, we may end this arrangement any time. But for now, Catherine Stormhale…" He bent forward, left arm under her back, right at her shoulder blades, and pulled her up onto his hips. His next words were but a whisper on her neck. "I intend to convince you to let me take you again and again."
Status Quo
Catherine's body usually healed at record speed, but when she woke up, she still felt Sebastian. An ache deep inside her. He hadn't been kidding about the again and again bit. She woke up alone on a bed that smelled of him. And she only had three seconds to realize she didn't like it before her door opened to reveal him wearing nothing but boxers and holding a tray of food.
She laughed. "You walked the corridors half naked?"
He rolled his eyes, kicking the door closed. "I dare say everyone here has seen boxers. And I was famished. You're insatiable."
Cat chuckled again. "Yeah, right. It was all me."
"Glad that you're taking responsibility."
He put the tray down on her bed. Two plates of croissants, bacon, eggs, coffee, and blood on the side.
She could get used to this.
"What time is it?"
"Noon. I have class in an hour. Although, I’m not sure who that'll be with."
Ah, yes, Anika had taught one of his classes.
"Do you know what happened to her?" Cat asked. "Anika."
"Levi locked her up in his lab, under the Institute. He had cages made for our kind. He said he would have cut her head off if she weren’t a Beaufort, but it isn't worth open war with her family. There'll be a judgment. Her family will send a defender."
Vampire trials were rare, particularly among the seven. Cat didn't think any had happened in her lifetime.
For someone as well known and prominent as Anika, the trial would be a grand affair. Each house would send a representative, and a well-known impartial judge would be appointed.
"What charges would she be accused of?" Cat wondered. "Sure, she betrayed Oldcrest, but that's not technically illegal."
"Poisoning you," Sebastian replied. "That should be enough to ban her from the country. That's all Levi wants right now."
Smart. Then, if and when she came back, she’d have a price on her head any vampire could claim.
"A trial is risky, though. If it's to be held here."
All those people would come through the border. Who knew where everyone's alliances lay?
"Levi says they'll hold it in London."
That made sense. He wouldn't risk Chloe's safety. Or anyone else’s, for that matter.
They ate in silence. She was thinking about the trial, and the sex, and her family, and the sex again.
"What's your schedule like?" Sebastian asked.
"I don't have class until Business at three, but I figured I'd start my assignment. You know, set up the afternoon tea for this weekend." She rolled her eyes. "I'll design a pamphlet and get it printed in the Adairford shop. Then, I have Mr. Silver, a break, Varra this evening, and sentinel until six. Fridays are light for me."
Sebastian grinned. "Sounds like we might have a break at the same time. How about…"
"We're not going to exhaust ourselves before patrolling," she said.
He grinned. "I was going to suggest dinner, naughty girl. Get your head out of the gutter. The exhaustion comes after patrol."
"I probably can't make dinner," she replied, not bothering to deny the possibility of post-patrol exercise. "I'll be training Chloe."
"Fine. Saturday. Outside of here. We can have lunch in Edinburgh or whatever."
Cat wrinkled her nose. "Why go all the way there?"
"Because Adairford is pathetic and I want to take you on a decent date."
He did?
She froze, and blinked.
Catherine had never actually gone on a date.
"That's probably a terrible idea."
"I know, but we're still doing it. I'll make reservations and text you the time later."
He was taking charge, and she wasn't sure she disliked that, dammit. Cat was completely out of her depth. She blamed the many orgasms for her lack of wit and discernment. They'd short-circuited her brain or something.
"I don't know. There's a potential attack from my family, and the Beauforts, and that queen. It doesn't feel like the right time for a date."
"I was a huntsman. My parents were huntsmen too. There was always a crisis—a rogue, shifter, demon, vampire, or necromancer. A witch sacrificing babies somewhere. And yet every Tuesday night, they went out on a date, pretending the world wasn't on fire around them. Dad used to say it was their sanity day. All the anxiety, the anticipation, the hunt can consume our lives if we let it. So I say lunch, and sex, and chilling occasionally are all brilliant ideas."
Sebastian made a good case.
"I stopped living after being bitten. Stopped fighting. And I was miserable. If I am going to survive hundreds of years, I'd rather make it a fun ride."
"Carpe diem," she whispered.
"Way to summarize an eloquent speech with an overused idiom, Stormhale."
"Well, if the shoe fits." She polished off her plate and stretched out on her bed. "But fine. I'll free up tomorrow afternoon."
"Good girl." He leaned forward, pressing his lips on hers in an unexpected and gentle kiss that made her feel as unsettled as when he’d played her pussy with his tongue.
Damn him. What was he doing to her?
"I have to get changed. Catch you for patrol, pretty girl."
"I'm no girl, Sebastian."
"No? You didn't mind my calling you that yesterday. And for heaven's sake, my name is Bash."
"I like Sebastian," she replied stubbornly. "It suits you."
"Have you been talking to my sister? She's the only other person who persists on using my full name."
Cat laughed. "A woman of great taste. And you call me Catherine, anyway, so we're even. Now go get some clothes on. I have stuff to do."
And if he remained naked here, she wasn't going to do them. She devoured him with her eyes, appreciating every de
lightful muscle, the way his arms flexed as he walked away.
Come to think of it, her to-do list wasn't that full right now.
"Wait."
He turned back to her, one eyebrow raised. She flipped the bedsheet off her naked frame.
"Well, I do have a couple of hours to kill. No one said I had to start designing now."
Paper and Needles
It so happened that Chloe didn't want to spar tonight. Cat received a raven right after her business lesson.
"Hey! I have a race with Tris and the others tonight. Sparring tomorrow?"
Cat groaned, scribbling on the other side of the note before sending the bird right back.
"Sure, in the evening. I'll be out during the day."
She was annoyed at herself for turning down dinner with Sebastian tonight.
By the time Cat reached Adairford, the bird was back.
"You wanna meet us for drinks at the Snuggy Snot after? We should be done by eight."
Cat sent a quick yes, and after debating the issue, asked the bird, "Can your master send another message for me?"
The raven chirped something that sounded like an agreement.
"Good. To Bash—Sebastian Venari."
She pulled out a piece of paper and wrote, "Snuggy Snot, 8—A Pretty Girl."
Cat entered the printer’s shop in town feeling quite greedy.
There were only a few businesses in Adairford, selling the kind of stuff college students stuck so far from civilization would find necessary. A pub—most of them were of age, after all, although a few geniuses in their teens had entered the Institute a time or two. A sports apparel store, essential for their intense training. A few clothing stores, a pharmacy, an apothecary that sold most of the ingredients needed for the crafting of spells, and, of course, a printer. Personal home printers worked well enough for notes and exercises, but most people liked to make their reports pretty.
