Read Online Sebastian - Dark Bonds by Janey Rosen - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Janey Rosen
Ads: Link
tightly closed, his expression one of carnal lust and dark despair and he comes with a guttural moan as I feel him pulsing inside me. He flops forward onto me, hot and sweating and spent. I stroke his hair as his breathing settles and tell him I love him. His silence is agonising.
12
“Sebastian. All these clothes, where did they come from?” I stare aghast at the plethora of dresses, skirts and silk garments hanging in the antique wardrobe.
“Do you like them? I asked Scarlett to pick out one or two new pieces for you.” He’s lounging on the chaise, long legs stretched out, crossed at the ankles, regarding me and gauging my reaction to his extravagance.
“I don’t know what to say. When will I have the opportunity to wear these?” My eye is drawn to a full-length crimson taffeta gown with black sash and black lace underskirt. Taking it from the hanger, I hold the exquisite dress to me and spin, feeling how the crisp fabric rustles as I turn.
“Put it on.” Sebastian runs a finger across his top lip, his eyes burning as he observes me.
“You’d like your own fashion show?” Raising my eyebrow at him in recognition of the dark look I know so well now, I let the dress fall gently into a taffeta puddle at my feet and slowly, teasingly, remove my clothes down to my underwear.
“Take it all off,” he commands, “I want you to feel the taffeta against your breasts. Feel how it rubs your nipples.”
“Certainly, Sir,” I goad.
“Sir? You’re learning fast, Elizabeth.” The hint of an approving smirk flashes across his face.
Naked, I step into the centre of the dress and pull the fabric up and holding it to my body, pad over to Sebastian turning and indicating for him to fasten my dress. It’s a strapless gown with fitted corset, flaring out below the black sashed waist – the stiff folds of fabric supported by the unyielding black net beneath. Standing, Sebastian takes the black laces of the corset in his long fingers and pulls sharply. Catching my breath, I hold in my waist to aid the fastening as he pulls tightly with each lacing.
“You’ve lost weight,” he remarks and he’s right, I haven’t regained my appetite fully, since I lost Joe and Alan.
“Do you like the slimmer me?” My waist seems impossibly small in the dress as he pulls me in even tighter, my hands on my hips to help him. He’s fastening it so forcefully that I fear the seams may give.
“Fuck, Elizabeth, you have no idea how sexy you look. Yes I love your figure, but don’t lose any more weight. I like my women curvy.” Your women?
“Which women would these be, Sebastian?” I ask haughtily. He responds with a sharper tug on the cords.
“You know what I mean,” he mutters irritably.
“Enlighten me.” Not intending to let this drop, I attempt to turn and confront him. He prevents me from doing so by pulling the cords of the dress in the opposite direction to my rotation, rendering me immobile.
“Stay still,” he snaps.
“You haven’t answered me,” I whine.
“No. I haven’t. I’m not indulging your insecurities.”
He finishes his task with a knot and a bow and I’m at last free to face him.
“Don’t you think that perhaps comments such as that, exacerbate my insecurities?” Hands still firmly on my hips my eyes lock fiercely with his. He holds my stare, mirroring my stance.
“Go, and look at yourself in the mirror,” he indicates to the full-length gilded dress mirror, which rests against the wall adjacent the bathroom door.
“Don’t think this conversation is over, Mister,” I warn petulantly as I do as he bids.
“Oh my God. I look like a vamp!” I exclaim as I regard my reflection, turning from side to side. “What did you do with my waist? It’s as though you have eradicated all evidence of two pregnancies.” It’s truly a miracle. I love it, yet it isn’t me.
“You’re a stunning woman,” he admires,
12
“Sebastian. All these clothes, where did they come from?” I stare aghast at the plethora of dresses, skirts and silk garments hanging in the antique wardrobe.
“Do you like them? I asked Scarlett to pick out one or two new pieces for you.” He’s lounging on the chaise, long legs stretched out, crossed at the ankles, regarding me and gauging my reaction to his extravagance.
“I don’t know what to say. When will I have the opportunity to wear these?” My eye is drawn to a full-length crimson taffeta gown with black sash and black lace underskirt. Taking it from the hanger, I hold the exquisite dress to me and spin, feeling how the crisp fabric rustles as I turn.
“Put it on.” Sebastian runs a finger across his top lip, his eyes burning as he observes me.
“You’d like your own fashion show?” Raising my eyebrow at him in recognition of the dark look I know so well now, I let the dress fall gently into a taffeta puddle at my feet and slowly, teasingly, remove my clothes down to my underwear.
“Take it all off,” he commands, “I want you to feel the taffeta against your breasts. Feel how it rubs your nipples.”
“Certainly, Sir,” I goad.
“Sir? You’re learning fast, Elizabeth.” The hint of an approving smirk flashes across his face.
Naked, I step into the centre of the dress and pull the fabric up and holding it to my body, pad over to Sebastian turning and indicating for him to fasten my dress. It’s a strapless gown with fitted corset, flaring out below the black sashed waist – the stiff folds of fabric supported by the unyielding black net beneath. Standing, Sebastian takes the black laces of the corset in his long fingers and pulls sharply. Catching my breath, I hold in my waist to aid the fastening as he pulls tightly with each lacing.
“You’ve lost weight,” he remarks and he’s right, I haven’t regained my appetite fully, since I lost Joe and Alan.
“Do you like the slimmer me?” My waist seems impossibly small in the dress as he pulls me in even tighter, my hands on my hips to help him. He’s fastening it so forcefully that I fear the seams may give.
“Fuck, Elizabeth, you have no idea how sexy you look. Yes I love your figure, but don’t lose any more weight. I like my women curvy.” Your women?
“Which women would these be, Sebastian?” I ask haughtily. He responds with a sharper tug on the cords.
“You know what I mean,” he mutters irritably.
“Enlighten me.” Not intending to let this drop, I attempt to turn and confront him. He prevents me from doing so by pulling the cords of the dress in the opposite direction to my rotation, rendering me immobile.
“Stay still,” he snaps.
“You haven’t answered me,” I whine.
“No. I haven’t. I’m not indulging your insecurities.”
He finishes his task with a knot and a bow and I’m at last free to face him.
“Don’t you think that perhaps comments such as that, exacerbate my insecurities?” Hands still firmly on my hips my eyes lock fiercely with his. He holds my stare, mirroring my stance.
“Go, and look at yourself in the mirror,” he indicates to the full-length gilded dress mirror, which rests against the wall adjacent the bathroom door.
“Don’t think this conversation is over, Mister,” I warn petulantly as I do as he bids.
“Oh my God. I look like a vamp!” I exclaim as I regard my reflection, turning from side to side. “What did you do with my waist? It’s as though you have eradicated all evidence of two pregnancies.” It’s truly a miracle. I love it, yet it isn’t me.
“You’re a stunning woman,” he admires,
Similar Books
