Abandoned Luna Now Untouchable (Cecilia) novel Chapter 171

Cecilia

I came to in the middle of the night, still half out of it.

My fingers were dead weights, too tired to even twitch.

The ache between my legs was the first thing that registered, a deep, throbbing reminder of everything we’d done.

My body felt like it had been taken apart and clumsily put back together, every muscle languid and heavy.

The sheets were a lost cause, stuck to my skin with a cocktail of sweat and. well, him.

I felt filthy, deliciously so, but the sticky sensation was starting to grate.

I needed a bath. Now.

I tried to shift, a slow, pathetic squirm, but the arm draped possessively over my waist tightened instantly.

“Don’t move,” his voice was a low, sleep-roughened rumble against my ear.

His lips found the sensitive spot just beneath my lobe, and a full-body shiver wracked my exhausted frame. “You’re not going anywhere. This is your bed.”

“My bed, my rules,” I mumbled, my face heating. “I need a bath. I feel like I’ve been glazed.”

Sebastian’s eyes opened, those dark, intense pools fixing on me in the dim light. “I’ll help you.”

A bolt of pure, unadulterated panic shot through me. “.Never mind! | changed my mind. I’ll sleep. I’ll sleep for a week, just forget I said anything.”

His low chuckle was a threat and a promise.

He was already moving, pulling on his boxers with an infuriating grace.

“You want a bath, you get a bath. You’ll sleep better clean.”

He leaned over, his fingers prying mine from the death grip I had on the crumpled sheet

“My hero,” I deadpanned, my sarcasm doing nothing to hide my trepidation.

He just smirked and scooped me up as if I weighed nothing.

I yelped, my arms automatically looping around his neck.

The hard planes of his chest were a stark contrast to my boneless softness.

In the bathroom, he set me down on the cool countertop while he bent to fill the tub. I watched the muscles play across his bare back, a fresh wave of heat pooling low in my belly.

Moon Goddess, he was fucking beautiful.

He poured in my expensive bubble bath and, with a theatrical flourish,

• scattered a handful of dried rose petals from the jar on the windowsill.

“Your majesty,” he said, his tone dry.

I managed a weak smile and slid into the gloriously hot, fragrant water, sinking down until the bubbles covered me up to my chin.

The relief was immediate.

I glanced at him, still looming by the tub, and decided to go for it.Better to rip the band-aid off.

“You should. you should probably head out, Sebastian.”

The air in the room went cold.

He didn’t move, then slowly leaned forward and lowered his head, gripping my chin so hard that I stared at him.

His jaw was tight. “What did you just say, Cecilia?”

1 swallowed, my courage faltering. “I said. you should go. It’s late.” His laugh was short, harsh. “Un-fucking-believable. You’re really doing this again? Use my cock until you’re screaming, then toss me out like yesterday’s garbage? What am I, your favorite fucking call boy?”

My face flamed

“…No! Of course not. It’s just. this was fun. Adult fun. I’m not saying ! don’t acknowledge it happened.” I was backpedaling fast, the words tumbling out. I’m just suggesting a. graceful exit.”

“An exit,” he repeated, his voice dangerously soft.

He sat on the wide lip of the tub, his presence overwhelming the steamy space. “Cecilia, you can’t just fuck me into a coma and then pretend it was a casual hookup every single time.

Guilt, sharp and unwelcome, pricked at me.

He was right. It was a shitty pattern.

A ragged, broken sound tore from my throat.

He didn’t wait for me to get used to it.

With a grunt that was all primal satisfaction, he used his grip on my hip to guide me down onto him, and he shoved himself upward.

There was no gentle easing, no slow acceptance.

It was one, brutal, fucking inch after another, a searing, stretching invasion that filled me to the point of breaking.

I cried out, my nails digging into the wet, hard muscle of his shoulders as my body was forced to accommodate his girth, the water slosking with the violence of the motion.

“That’s it, “he growled into my ear, his breath scalding hot.’

“Take it. ALL of it.”

And I did. Because I had no other fucking choice.

My body, traitor that it was, began to adjust, the initial sharp burn melting into a deep, throbbing fullness.

He held me there for a long moment, both of us panting, the water still around us.

Then he moved.

His pace was merciless.

He bucked up into me, his cock dragging against every sensitive spot within me, each thrust making the water slap against the porcelain and our slick skin.

My head lolled back on his shoulder, my every gasp and whimper muffled by the steamy air.

I was completely at his mercy, a puppet on his lap, my own hips starting to move in a desperate, matching rhythm.

One of his hands remained on my hip, controlling the pace, while the other snaked up to my chest, roughly palming my breast, pinching my nipple until I arched against him with a sharp cry.

He was everywhere-his scent, his heat, the sheer, overwhelming force of him filling me, surrounding me.

The world narrowed to this tub, to the slap of wet skin, his guttural groans in my ear, and the relentless, building pressure coiling deep in my core.