“Talk…” He murmured it, turning the word over in his mouth as though he was unfamiliar with it.
He shifted, using his body to nudge hers around until she was the one standing with her back to the railing and Sebastien crowded in closer.
Warning began to sound in her head.
Not that fear sort of warning.
No.
Her head was sending out
a different sort of alarm—it was going…oh, shit…
Sebastien caught her wrists, tugging them away from his face. She curled her fingers into her palms so that when he guided them to his chest, her hands were balled up into fists.
“You want to know what’s wrong, Marin?” he asked, pressing his face into her hair. “Want to hear all my problems? You’re so determined to help me out…is that it?”
“I…” She paused, taking a shaking breath. That breath exploded out of her when he pushed his thigh between hers. She thought she’d quiver and just wilt away when he placed one big palm on her hip and tugged her in closer to him, tucking her pelvis against his.
Marin’s brain started to melt.
Oh. Shit.
Against her hip, she felt his cock pulsing and in response, everything inside her began to heat and pulse in answer.
“See…” Sebastien’s lips were just a breath from her ear, his voice low and gritty and raw. “This is my problem. I’ve only wanted to sink my dick inside you for…hell, I can’t even remember when it started, but we’re talking years, sugar. Years. You get close to me and that scent of yours fills my head and it’s all I can do to focus. Now here I am, half drunk and focus is one thing I don’t have. I can’t focus. I just want to fuck…and who do you think it is I’m wanting to…focus on?”