His Plump Mate (Book 1: The 'His' Series) novel Chapter 171

**TITLE: After His Bite, I Learned to Heal**
**Chapter 170: Non-professional Treatment**

*Cecilia’s POV*

I found myself fixated on Sebastian’s wrist, the supposed ‘injury’ he had sustained. The sheer audacity of the man left me momentarily speechless, a mix of disbelief and admiration swirling within me.

As if he could sense the tumult of thoughts racing through my mind, he leaned closer, his voice a deep rumble that echoed in the confined space of the car. “This was Alpha Xavier’s doing.”

His gaze fell, revealing a hint of wounded pride that tugged at my conscience, igniting a flicker of guilt within me.

“I could take you to urgent care,” I suggested hastily, my voice slightly trembling. “They have excellent anti-inflammatory gels and proper wraps for injuries like yours.”

Sebastian shot me a look that rendered my suggestion absurd in an instant.

He extended his wrist toward me, the warmth radiating from his skin almost palpable. “The person responsible for the injury should be the one to treat it.”

A nervous laugh escaped my lips, a sound that felt foreign in the tense atmosphere. “I’m not refusing responsibility! It’s just that I’m not qualified. I thought medical professionals would—”

Under the weight of his intense stare, my words faltered and evaporated. “If you don’t mind amateur care, I could… maybe… grab an ice pack from my freezer?”

The corners of his mouth curled into a smirk, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Your place or mine?”

I fell silent, my mind racing as I weighed my limited options. Taking him to my parents’ house felt utterly unthinkable. The penthouse belonged to Liam, and my apartment seemed the least of all evils in this situation.

“Or perhaps…” he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against my ear, sending a jolt of electricity down my spine, “we could go to your parents’ house? Weren’t you planning to visit them?”

The warmth of his breath against my ear short-circuited my reasoning, leaving me momentarily dazed.

“Let’s… just go upstairs,” I managed to stammer, escaping his deliberate seduction by hastily unfastening my seatbelt and practically tumbling out of the car.

Before I could regain my balance, Sebastian was beside me, scooping me effortlessly into his arms, preventing me from putting weight on my injured ankle.

“Moving that fast? Training for the Olympics?” he quipped, his voice teasing as he held me firmly against his chest.

I pressed my lips together, staring fixedly at the elevator numbers, opting for strategic silence.

Inside the elevator, he feigned exaggerated politeness. “You choose. Whichever floor you prefer.”

I mentally rolled my eyes at his antics but pressed the button for the thirteenth floor. The penthouse meant Liam, and whatever this night was leading to, I preferred as few witnesses as possible.

Pretending to be engrossed in my phone, I tapped and scrolled, desperately avoiding his gaze.

Once we entered the apartment, he headed straight for the bedroom, and a wave of panic washed over me.

Wait. This was moving too fast!

“I need to get that ice pack!” I blurted out, my voice a flimsy attempt to break the growing tension.

“I’ll handle it,” he replied, not moving an inch. His voice dropped to a low vibration that seeped into my bones. “Didn’t you say I was good at everything?”

The question lingered in the air, a direct challenge that sent heat flooding to my chest and face under his molten gaze.

He didn’t wait for my answer. Instead, he swept me into his arms and gently deposited me on the bed, the softness of the pillows contrasting with the tension in the air.

“I’ll get the ice pack,” he stated, turning toward the door.

His mundane words, spoken after that charged silence, shattered something within me. “You’re actually getting it?” I asked, the idiotic question slipping out before I could cage it.

He was back in an instant, caging me with his presence as he leaned down, his face inches from mine.

“What were you expecting, Cecilia?” His tone was deceptively light, but his eyes held a hunter’s intensity. “Ulterior motives?”

“Just go,” I managed, twisting away from the hook of his gaze that threatened to ensnare me further.

He left, and I collapsed onto the mattress, the weight of my thoughts pressing down on me.

He was a male siren, designed to seduce me.

As I lay there, imagining his return, the scent of garlic and herbs wafted into the room, filling the air with unexpected warmth.

“Dinner’s ready,” he announced from the doorway, his voice cutting through my thoughts.

…Dinner?

What dinner? What about the ice pack?

When he approached, my heartbeat quickened. As he bent down, my breathing hitched, and then… he simply lifted me, carrying me to the dining area where actual, steaming food awaited us.

“You… made this?” I gestured at the meal, then at him, my confusion evident. “I thought you were getting an ice pack.”

Sebastian took his seat, a smirk playing on his lips. “A man can multitask. I conjured this by magic while the ice was freezing.”

“You can cook?”

“Don’t sound so shocked.” His smile was light, teasing. “I have hidden depths. And the internet.”

I picked up my fork, the decent food doing little to clear my bewilderment. Sensing my confusion, Sebastian offered, “Cecilia, there are cooking tutorials online. I’m a quick learner. Don’t overthink it.”

“That’s impressive,” I admitted, trying to wrap my mind around this new facet of him.

Sebastian pulled back just enough to speak, his breathing ragged. “Cecilia, consider the debt paid. I should go.”

The f**k?

As he shifted to get up, my legs locked around his waist of their own volition, refusing to let him leave.

I glared at him, my body aching with frustration.

He dropped a light, almost taunting kiss on the corner of my swollen mouth. “If we keep going, I’m going to end up buried deep inside you. And then you’ll be pissed at me all over again.”

I kept glaring, my silence louder than any scream.

Then I snapped. My hand fisted in his hair, yanking him down, my teeth sinking into the hard ridge of his collarbone.

He grunted in pain, but before he could recover, my tongue was already soothing the mark, laving over his Adam’s apple.

That got him. A ragged, punched-out sound tore from his throat.

In the next instant, his warm, rough hands were sliding under my dress, up the bare skin of my thighs still wrapped tightly around him.

He hooked his fingers in my panties, tearing them aside with a brutal, efficient rip.

“F**k,” he growled, his voice raw as his fingers found me wet and ready. “You’re so f*****g slick for me.”

He freed his cock, thick and hard in his hand, and then he was pushing inside, stretching me, filling me in one relentless, perfect thrust.

I cried out, my head falling back as he started to move, setting a punishing rhythm from the very beginning.

“Tell me who you belong to,” he growled, voice low and rough, each word punctuated by a deep, punishing thrust.

“You,” I gasped, the word torn from me—undeniable, desperate. “I’m yours.”

I was just a body, a collection of raw nerve endings, meeting him thrust for thrust.

It was a frantic, sweaty, messy collision.

The world narrowed to the slap of skin, his guttural groans in my ear, the filthy, wet sound of him driving into me.

When I came, it was with a broken scream, my body clamping down around him, milking him relentlessly until he followed with a raw shout, his own release flooding into me.

We collapsed together, soaked in sweat and other things, breathing heavily as if we had run a marathon.

As I drifted toward unconsciousness, his lips brushed my hair, his voice so low I almost missed it. “You can run all you want. But you’re already mine.”