The One Awakened: Book 1 in The One Trilogy

by Alexandra North

  “I noticed you’ve not got a guest bed, anymore, the other night, when I looked in on Finn. If it’s ok with you, I’d rather not wake up to the Toy Story montage tomorrow? I’ll just share with you. Or the sofa’s fine too if you prefer?”

  He is so casual that I conclude that in his mind there is nothing weird about sharing a bed with a mate. As he stares at me intently, awaiting my approval, I feel like I’m being pushed into a corner, yet at the same time, he seems so relaxed and unperturbed, I realise that this moment doesn’t seem to be affecting him in the same way as me. I feel a little foolish to be honest.

  I hear myself reply more calmly than I feel. “The bed’s fine, you daft thing, it’s a king size. We probably won’t even know the other is there.”

  Ha like that is bloody likely!

  I leave him throwing the many cushions onto the floor muttering to himself, under his breath.

  “Women and cushions - I’ll never get it!”

  As I clean my teeth in the bathroom, I can hear him moving around in the bedroom. My scalp prickles with a mixture of expectation and fear. I decide to harden myself to it all and just try to treat it, as any other time Seb had stayed. The problem was we’d only ever stayed under the same roof a few times and each one had been in separate rooms and separate beds. Even at University we’d never shared a bed, maybe some floor space in our student accommodation but never a mattress. I really need to get a grip and ignoring my heavily beating heart, and clammy palms I enter my room. The only glow emanating from it is from the fairy lights strewn across the headboard. The effect is very cosy and I instantly rue the day I hung them.

  “Right I only have three rules. I get the left side. No socks in bed and no duvet hogging.”

  I climb into bed and automatically pull the cover up to cocoon my body. Any extra layers will hopefully stop me feeling so vulnerable.

  “Alright Boss,” Seb smiles sexily and slides, under the bedding. I’m so glad I changed the bed this morning. The sheets are fresh and plumpfy and feel luxurious under my touch.

  I’d only managed a brief glimpse of his amazingly buff body in black fitted boxers, as he’d climbed into the bed, and sprawled on his stomach. Now my eyes are drawn to the large bold black scripted font that curls across his back, between his shoulder blades. It spells out Nuno est tempus and adds a rakish edge to his classic good looks. Nuno est tempus - I think that means now is the time? My Latin was seriously rusty from Grammar School, so I might be way of the mark here but we’d done a huge project on the design course using Latin wording in our second year and I’m pretty sure this motto, rang a bell. It made me want to reach out and trace the letters, raised in their darkened ink, feel his skin under my fingertips. I clench my fingers into a fist to stop myself. He has another tattoo of rose, with a cherub on his arm and more script wording. His tattooist was seriously good. It looked very romantic and a true work of art in black and grays, with fabulous shading; my mouth waters.

  Could he get any more delicious?

  I lean over to turn off the light, desperate to stop the torture and the darkness enfolds us. Instantly I’m cushioned in security. At least now he won’t see me drooling. When did Sebastian become such an Adonis? It must be all that construction work.

  “Night Seb.” I snuggle down chewing thoughtfully on my lip.

  I can feel him shuffling around and getting comfortable. The break in silence is a welcome relief and I begin to relax and close my eyes, when his deep voice shatters me.

  “I’m not tired… yet.”

  WTF?

  Why the hell had he come to bed then?

  “You’ll drift off soon. I’m shattered,” I lie.

  The reality was I’d probably not get a wink of sleep, as I’m surrounded, by his masculine scent, body heat and the copious amounts of testosterone; now filling my bedroom. The usually cavernous bed, most definitely feels smaller with him in it. He is so broad and long. I wonder if that is the case down below?

  Silence.

  Then I feel his finger at my back, barely there. His hand increases its pressures, sliding slowly and softly down the centre of my spine, tracing each vertebrae sensually. My skin instantly blazes under his touch and my heart begins to pound incessantly in my chest. I can hear the blood bubbling in my ears, the silence around us is deafening. Surely he can hear my heartbeat? I try to stay still and swallow deeply to wet my already drying mouth. I’m struggling to breathe.

  Breathe you silly woman. Breathe!

  The air is taut with thick sexual tension.

  What is he doing? Please don’t stop.

  He continues his trail along my back, tracing a fingertip lightly over my nape on the way up and drops his palm, cupping my shoulder firmly. Tingles of excitement shoot up my neck and up across my scalp and I roll my head in towards his hand. It stills. What am I doing? This is my friend and we’re both fuelled by alcohol. Feeling a little uncomfortable with what is happening, I gently lift his big hand and turn to push it back towards his chest.

  “Go to sleep Sebastian, you’re pissed. I think you’re forgetting who you’re in bed with. It’s me Lu.”

  I catch a glimpse of him briefly, over my shoulder, his slow sexy smile says it all.

  “I’ve had a few, yes, but I’m not inebriated Lulu. I know exactly whose body I’m enjoying - or trying to at least!”

  I can feel him grinning against my neck. His breath grazes the soft baby hair there and sends sharp electric currents coursing underneath my skin and to all my most sensitive areas. He continues on this path, dropping his mouth to trail soft languid kisses along my shoulder, reaching the top of my collarbone with a slow feathery lick.

  “What are you doing Seb?”

  God it felt good. My body burns like it is awakening from a deep and delicious sleep.

  “Something I should have done a long time ago,” he murmurs gruffly into my hair. “You smell so good. You are most definitely an edible little one.”

  I am most definitely turned on but also incredibly confused. My body and my brain seemed to be fighting a war against one another.

  “Don’t be silly, you’re not with it. Let’s just go to sleep.”

  Although part of me, thinks; really? Does he really want me? I don’t want this to stop and isn’t this what you wanted deep-down? What you wanted to ask him to do?

  “I don’t want to sleep Lu. The one thing that has got me through the last months away from home and my family and friends was the fact that you were here, in the centre of it all.”

  I quickly spin around to face him, in shock, pulling the cover away from us both. My eyes have adjusted to the dark and I can see him albeit vaguely. My heart is pounding, so fast I can feel it in my throat.

  “I don’t understand Seb. I thought you liked Meg.”

  He tilts his head to one side and slowly slips his hand around the back of my neck, drawing me leisurely in towards him and commands in a deep sexy voice ,

  “Stop thinking, you stubborn woman and just go with it.”

  As I’m about to reply, his warm mouth covers mine, creating a seal, which I can tell he is smug about. I am trapped and can’t speak. His low groan of success is a complete turn on, as I give myself up to the first intimate kiss we have ever shared. His tongue licks mine tentatively, inquisitively, stirring me and with my moan of rapturous approval, he moves in to deepen the arrangement. His hands are at my back and I can feel myself becoming breathless with anticipation.

  Who would have known that Seb, could kiss like this?

  Who would have known that he could make me quiver like this?

  Why had we not done this before?

  “I can still hear the cogs turning Lu. Relax and let me do this… please.”

  He pulls away for a moment to slide me under him, so that he is gazing down upon me. He is completely in control and I can tell he likes it that way. In an instant he swoops down and his mouth is on mine again, teasing, smiling whilst h
e plants small feathery kisses on my face, nose, ears and down onto my neck.

  “It’s time we tested our chemistry. After a decade, it’s time,” he states with absolute certainty.

  The playful mood quickly changes as he comes back to my mouth and looking into his eyes I can see the raw passion, he has for me. It is the same passion I saw in his blackened eyes, whilst he watched me dance in the bar earlier that night. They’re like dark glossy chocolate, with hazel flecks and glittering with need.

  I still can’t quite believe it but I am enjoying this too much to stop. Instead I decide to deepen the invasion and encourage him to continue his investigations. The only thing I know is that for this moment, I do not want these igniting sparks between us to fizzle out. I need to see if we would be as good together as I felt we could; even if it was for one mere night. I am undeniably certain it would be worth it; worth the tarnish, of being another one-night-stand conquest. We could offer each other something. He could enjoy the challenge of bedding his long-term friend, and I could be awakened sexually, my body brought alive by a man’s touch again.

  “OK.”

  I succumb weakly as my breath catches and give myself up to months, no years of pent up frustration.

  For what seems like hours, but in reality is probably only a few minutes, we glory in the sensation of our touches, mouth-on mouth, breath on breath, hearts beating hard and fast against one another. Seb moves downwards. His wet lips move along the line of my black lace nightgown and hooking his finger loosely inside the strap of one arm, he slowly flicks it down, freeing my straining right breast, as the silk falls to bare me to him. His gaze is greedy but his temperament is calm and I arch my back, instinctively, pushing against him in desperation, as he bends his head and takes my already swollen nipple into his mouth. The moist, hot sensation as he draws deeply on it, almost undoes me, as he slowly, teasingly traces my nipple with his tongue and suckles. Then cupping my breast almost roughly, he pulls on my peak until it screams to attention, before moving to the other already erect breast to repeat the mouth-watering process, over and over again. Oh. My. Fucking. God, this is exquisite - all slow and sensual with an air of frenzy at the same moment.

  “God you turn me on!” he practically growls the words and pulls me closer, grinding his pelvis into mine, his freshly brushed breath on my face. “I’ve wanted to do this all night.”

  I arch my body, pressing myself into him, his words a complete turn-on. There is no mistaking his reaction to me. He seems to be revelling in my body and worshiping it, in a way I have not experienced before. I’d forgotten how good it was to be touched and my body is responding to every stroke, every lick, and each sensation. I’m shattering slowly from within.

  Niall had been much more about getting on with the matter at hand, ‘in and off we go’. There was nothing quick about Sebastian’s leisurely appreciation of my quivering body. He was all about the foreplay.

  “Such beautiful breasts Lu, I’ve always wanted to see if they were as amazing to touch as they looked. The days at Uni I daydreamed about them,” he grins wickedly in the shadows.

  I moan and push them up into his hands and slide my now trembling fingers down his sides, lightly grazing them with my nails, towards his hips. He shivers under my touch and his cock juts, pressing into my thigh. This is not the reaction of a friend and he does not seem drunk. I feel dizzy with arousal, confusion and am trying to just enjoy the moment, but there are so many unanswered questions. Oh God, he is doing things to me that I didn’t know I was capable of feeling.

  “Take this off,” he demands almost desperately. “I need to feel skin on skin.”

  I remove my nightie and toss it to the floor at his command and hear his hiss of approval. Our mouths meet, teeth clashing, tongues duelling, his hands cradling my face before relinquishing his grip and dropping a roughened palm to cup my heavy aching breast. My low moan of acceptance makes him growl.

  “Beautiful. Sexy. Tonight you’re mine.”

  His words roll over me, like teasing fingertips and I feel myself grow wetter. He moves lower and trails soft kisses down my torso and onto the top of my pelvis, lightly licking my hipbone. Don’t leave. Stay up this end. Please.

  I flinch almost immediately as he nears my c-section scar.

  Oh shit.

  Automatically, Seb senses my tension and looks up at me. “Too much Baby?”

  I nod mutely and he comes back to kiss me intensely, deeply. I can feel myself hot and wet and ready for him and my sensitive nub aches for some hard attention. It really has been too long!

  I am just about to trace my hand down the front of his Calvin’s, when he unexpectedly pulls away.

  “I wonder if we are taking this too soon?” he whispers into my neck, whilst stroking my face with his knuckle in a repetitive motion.

  What? No. Don’t stop!

  All of a sudden the room is completely silent, deafeningly so. It’s like a cold slap, to an already highly tempestuous situation. Like the spindle on a record player has been crudely scraped across a vinyl. I instantly recoil, the defense shutters come down with an alarming ferocity and I move away from underneath him. The only sounds are our laboured panting.

  Sebastian tries to stop me retracting but I continue to push against him. I feel claustrophobic, panicky and yes… fucking stupid. Suddenly I need some serious space.

  Does he regret it?

  Maybe he saw my scars and decided he no longer found me attractive?

  Maybe he was actually just pissed and was sobering up to this being a bad idea?

  I can feel my throat getting raw and suffocatingly tight with emotion; I sense that given half a chance, I could breakdown and sob uncontrollably and I’m not a pretty crier. I feel totally humiliated and need to be alone, yet every part of my freshly awakened body is crying out to be satisfied. Maybe I should just pounce on him? But then he may not respond, which would be another devastating blow to my confidence. He has just ruined a truly special moment by being a gentleman or I have with my sensitive body issues? I don’t know what just happened but… fuck!

  I gaze across at the alarm clock on the bedside table. It glows 4am. I’ve got to get up in a few hours to collect Finn from Mum and Dad’s. Rolling over, I take a deep shaky breath, followed by a gulp to stop the impending tears and quietly say, “I think maybe you’re right.”

  And for the second time that night I repeat, “Let’s try to get some sleep.”

  I roll onto my side, pulling the duvet like a cling film vacuum around my body. I can’t bear to have him near me; I’d explode. This way he can’t see my desolation and the fat teardrop that rolls down my cheek and plops onto my arm.

  He is silent.

  We lie in bed, back to back.

  The air is thick with emotions, unsaid feelings and unfinished business.

  I get no sleep, as I procrastinate over the last few hours’ events and chastise myself over and over again, for potentially ruining the best friendship I’ve ever had with a man, with my bloody horniness!

  I quietly turn to sneak a glance at him, whilst he sleeps, careful not to disturb anything that might wake him. I sigh. I’m dreading seeing him this morning.

  Oh my God! How did things go so wrong?

  This is why you don’t mix sex with friendship. Someone always got hurt. My bloody gut needs to shout its instinct, much louder in future. I’d forgotten about my war wounds, probably because he’d sprung things on me and I’d been relaxed by champagne; no man had seen it since Niall and he had hated it with a passion and made me very aware of that fact. A constant reminder of Finn’s arrival and my body changing, he’d never gone down on me again -“It’s repulsive” - had been his words and I had to agree. The scar angrily worked its way across my body in a zig-zag fashion, from hip to hip, red and angry and a total mess.

  Finn’s birth had been traumatic to say the least, 36 hours of labour, barely 4cm dilation and his heartbeat had slowed, resultin
g in an emergency section, where the only available surgeon at midnight had been a 4ft 11 junior, who needed to stand on a box to perform the cut. It had been barbaric.

  My not so little boy had been far too large for my petite frame, causing huge internal bleeding, a cracked rib and many necessary blood transfusions, just to get him out - weighing a healthy 9lbs at only 36 weeks old. Heaven knows what he’d have weighed had he gone full-term or worse over - perhaps I would have delivered a fully grown man - I’d certainly felt like that was the case at the time.

  Many had thought Niall’s coldness after Finn’s birth was a direct result of post-traumatic stress but he denied it and in the end I gave up trying. I’d nearly died giving birth to his son, our son - the most beautiful baby boy and my joy, and now I was to be punished.

  To me my scar is evidence that I had worked hard to bring Finn into the world but I am also aware that it is brutal looking and now my fears and hang-ups, may have fucked up my chances at continuing to moving forward. Learn from your mistakes Lu - I can hear my parent’s voices in my head - they were right. This wasn’t going to define me. It was a hurdle I had to get over and Niall wasn’t my lover anymore. Niall didn’t own me anymore. It was his hang-up, inflicted upon me and he would never have the privilege of having sex with me again.

  Now Seb on the other hand…

  I wander into the kitchen and flick the red metallic Dualit kettle on. I’d managed three hours sleep and I seriously ache like I have done ten rounds with Tyson. Sebastian is still in bed and I can’t hear anything overhead so he must be out like a light.

  Oh my word – what the hell was last night all about?