She gasped when his thumb made a firm line at the underside of her breast. She wore a silk bra, but even that liquid fabric felt too coarse against her nipples; they were tall and begging to meet Sebastian. His hand was so big that she felt like he was touching her everywhere at once, and she shivered when his mouth fell to the hollow between her collarbones.

Seb slid backward, planting both knees on the floor. His hands rested on her hips as he eyed her, spread across his bed, her shins pressing into his chest. With his eyes on hers, he slowly lifted her shirt, an inch, another inch, until the golden expanse of her stomach was exposed, her hip bones jutting out above the waist of her pants.

Finally, Seb let his eyes drop.

“MotherFUCKER,” he groaned as his eyes fell to the tattoo at her hip. A stylized line drawing of a rosebud. One of his rough fingers outlined it. “DeRosa,” he whispered, tracing the rose.

She nodded. He’d understood immediately. Even though it was perhaps an overdone thing to get tattooed on one’s body, Via had done it for personal reasons. It was her family’s name in that tattoo. Her heritage. An image to remind her who she was and where she came from.

His lips were the next thing to touch the tattoo, followed by his tongue along her hip bone.

“This was here the entire time,” he muttered, almost to himself. “Your trim little pantsuits. Classy gold studs. Perfect hair, polite little face. And the whole time a tattoo on this fuckable little hip. Jesus.”

He kissed his way across her stomach to her other hip, pressing his stubble into her softness. Via tried to open her legs; she wanted to wrap herself around him. But he firmly kept her knees together.

“Dark chocolate, Via,” he reminded her, biting her hip bone and making her jolt.

She let out a long breath. “Right. Yeah. Okay. Dark chocolate.”

She gasped when he planted his hands at her hips and flipped her over onto her stomach. “I can’t look at that tattoo anymore or I’m going to have us both naked in about six seconds.”

But he didn’t stop either. Seb kissed his way up her spine, pushing her shirt out of the way as he went. She couldn’t stop tightening and flexing as his stubble scraped her everywhere. She made a breathy, desperate sound when she felt his teeth close over the clasp of her bra. He lifted it up off her back and pressed it back down. She could swear he was smelling her, rubbing his face into the smooth skin of her back.

And then—there was a God—he laid his weight down over her. Via tipped her head to one side, her cheek flat on the mattress as she felt his hardness press into her ass. She was completely covered by him, pressed down flat on the bed. Her lungs struggled to get in air, and she loved it. She completely loved it.