His Plump Mate (Book 1: The 'His' Series) novel Chapter 172

**Chapter 171: Bathroom Consensus**

*Cecilia’s POV*

Emerging from the depths of slumber felt like swimming against a powerful current, my consciousness surfacing in slow, heavy waves that crashed over me.

My fingers lay like leaden weights, too exhausted to even twitch in acknowledgment of the world around me.

+25 Points

The first sensation that pierced through the haze of sleep was the dull ache between my legs, a deep, pulsing reminder of the passionate moments we had shared.

My body felt as though it had been disassembled and carelessly reassembled, each muscle languid and heavy, protesting the movement of waking.

The sheets clung to my skin, a sticky amalgamation of sweat and remnants of him, a lost cause in their own right.

A wave of filthiness washed over me, delicious in its own way, yet the sticky sensation was becoming increasingly irksome.

I needed a bath. Right this moment.

Attempting to shift, I made a slow, pitiful squirm, but the arm draped possessively over my waist tightened instantly, as if sensing my intentions.

“Don’t move,” his voice rumbled against my ear, low and gravelly from sleep, sending shivers racing down my spine.

His lips brushed against the sensitive spot just beneath my earlobe, igniting a full-body shiver that coursed through my exhausted frame. “You’re not going anywhere. This is your bed.”

“My bed, my rules,” I mumbled, heat flooding my cheeks. “…But I really need a bath. I feel like I’ve been glazed.”

Sebastian’s eyes fluttered open, those dark, intense pools locking onto mine in the dim light of the room. “I’ll help you.”

A wave of panic surged through me, pure and unfiltered, as I reconsidered. “…On second thought, I think I’m suddenly very sleepy. Forget I said anything.”

His low chuckle was both a threat and a promise, teasing the air between us.

With an infuriating grace, he was already moving, pulling on his boxers as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “You want a bath. You’ll get one. I prefer you clean.”

He leaned over, his fingers prying my own from the death grip I had on the crumpled sheets, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes.

“My hero,” I deadpanned, my sarcasm failing to mask the trepidation bubbling beneath the surface.

He merely smirked, effortlessly scooping me up as if I weighed nothing at all, a mix of irritation and admiration swirling in my chest.

I yelped, instinctively looping my arms around his neck as he lifted me.

The hard planes of his chest felt like a stark contrast to my own boneless softness, sending a jolt of awareness through me.

+25 Points

In the bathroom, he set me down on the cool countertop, the chill of the surface contrasting sharply with the heat radiating from my body as he bent to fill the tub. I couldn’t help but admire the muscles playing across his bare back, a fresh wave of heat pooling low in my belly.

Moon Goddess, he was breathtakingly beautiful.

As he poured in my expensive bubble bath, he added a theatrical flourish, scattering a handful of dried rose petals from the jar perched on the windowsill.

“Your majesty,” he quipped, his tone dripping with dry humor.

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

The relief was immediate, washing over me like a soothing balm.

Stealing a glance at him, still looming by the tub, I decided it was time to rip off the band-aid.

“You should… probably head out, Sebastian.”

The air in the room turned icy, a palpable tension hanging between us.

He didn’t move at first, then slowly leaned forward, gripping my chin firmly, forcing me to meet his gaze.

His jaw was set tight, a storm brewing behind his eyes. “What did you just say, Cecilia?”

Swallowing hard, my courage wavered. “I said… you should go. It’s late.”

His laugh was short and harsh, a sound that sent a shiver down my spine. “Un-f*****g-believable. You’re really doing this again? Use my c**k until you’re screaming, then toss me out like yesterday’s garbage? What am I, your favorite f*****g call boy?”

Heat flared in my cheeks, embarrassment flooding my senses.

“…No! Of course not. It’s just… this was fun. Adult fun. I’m not saying I don’t acknowledge it happened.” The words tumbled out in a hurried rush. “I’m just suggesting a… graceful exit.”

“An exit,” he echoed, his voice dangerously soft, sending another shiver through me.

He perched on the wide lip of the tub, his presence dominating the steamy space. “Cecilia, you can’t just f**k 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 terrible pattern we had fallen into.

His c**k, a rigid, demanding pressure against my inner thigh, was now poised right at my entrance, a brutal, undeniable truth that sent my heart racing.

“Share,” my ass. This was a takeover.

One of his big, wet hands clamped onto my hip, holding me steady, while the other slid between our bodies, his fingers not asking, but finding.

He parted my p***y with a rough, knowing touch, his thumb circling my c**t once, twice, a jolt of pure lightning that made my entire body react.

A ragged, broken sound tore from my throat, the sensation overwhelming.

He didn’t wait for me to adjust.

With a grunt that was pure primal satisfaction, he used his grip on my hip to guide me down onto him, thrusting upward with a force that took my breath away.

There was no gentle easing, no slow acceptance.

It was one brutal, f*****g inch after another, a searing invasion that filled me to the brink of breaking.

I cried out, my nails digging into the wet, hard muscle of his shoulders as my body struggled to accommodate his girth, the water splashing violently with every movement.

“That’s it,” he growled into my ear, his breath scorching against my skin. “Take it. All of it.”

And I did. Because I had no other f*****g choice.

My body, traitor that it was, began to adjust, the initial sharp burn melting into a deep, throbbing fullness that sent waves of pleasure coursing through me.

He held me there for a long moment, both of us panting, the water swirling around us like a warm embrace.

Then he moved.

His pace was merciless, each thrust driving deeper, dragging against every sensitive spot within me, the water slapping against the porcelain and our slick skin with every powerful movement.

My head lolled back against his shoulder, my gasps and whimpers muffled by the steamy air, each sound a testament to my surrender.

I was completely at his mercy, a puppet on his lap, my own hips beginning 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 n****e 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 around us faded, narrowing down to the confines of this tub, to the slap of wet skin, his guttural groans in my ear, and the relentless, building pressure coiling deep within my core.