But trying to convince her to change her mind had never been quite so tempting.
"So what's the issue?"
She sighed. "There's a war coming, and we aren't on the same side."
Oh. Yeah, that.
"If it came down to stopping my uncles and aunts from entering Oldcrest, I wouldn't think twice. I'd fight them." A laugh escaped her delicious lips. "I might even enjoy it, in some cases. But Claudia or Seth…"
"No one is asking you to fight your brother or sister."
She nodded. "I know. But that's what it comes down to, even if I don't face them directly. A line has been drawn between our clan and Oldcrest. They're with Stormhall, and I'm here."
Bash tried to imagine fighting against Emilia and Paul, but the notion was inconceivable. Whatever line there was, he'd cross it and drag them both along by his side.
"Do they have to be?" he asked her. "On the other side. Have you asked them what they think?"
He regretted his question. It was too simple. Of course she'd thought of that.
"I can't. I can't contact them on my family's network. You don't know what it's like in Stormhall. There are servants everywhere, reporting on our every move. Our emails are watched, too."
Bash said, "Sure. Too bad you don't have a witch friend or two who could help you send some secret correspondence, right?"
Catherine blinked. She clearly hadn't considered that.
Then she bit her lips. "It'd be dangerous. Claudia could go straight to Drusilla. She could be ordered to spy for her, or worse."
"It comes down to how much you trust your siblings."
Silence stretched between them. Her forehead wrinkled as she considered her options.
Then, she said, "That was…strangely enlightening. I should chat with you more often."
Bash laughed. "Yeah, you should.” He didn’t want her to go, so out of curiosity, he added, "What about your parents?"
For some reason, he expected her face to turn somber, but instead, she smiled again.
"They're irrelevant. When it comes to fighting and sides and wars, anyway. My mom was always a free spirit. A vampire hippie, if you would."
Bash tried to imagine that. A Catherine with flowers in her hair, dancing barefoot. He laughed his ass off. "I would love to meet her."
"No, you would not," she replied firmly. "Anyway, she was always a great disappointment to the part of my family who's after power—Aunt Drusilla, her own parents, basically everyone. Fortunately, she was the youngest of five children, all four more useful than she, so they mostly left her alone. Josephine—that's her name—is incredibly beautiful. The prettiest among us, I'd say. Drusilla made her have a fling with a male scion once. Seth's father. Then, when that ended, Aunt Drusilla brought Seth to Stormhall and left her alone. She has a palazzo in Venice, away from Stormhall. My mom travels the world and has as much fun as she can muster. She had a bodyguard following her around, of course. And thirty years ago, she married him. They still travel all the time."
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.