I smile as soon as I lock eyes on Sebastian. The room is bright this time, all of the overhead lights turned on, and I can make out everything about Sebastian tonight. I notice the way he runs his hand through his wavy dark hair, notice the little dimples at the corners of his mouth, notice the deep tan on his skin from years of… whatever job he does. He smiles when he sees me in the ball gown I decided to wear, adjusts his suit, and steps forward. He touches a finger to the skin beneath my lips slowly, softly, and then he leans in and kisses me. His kiss is slow and meaningful. My lips feel hot and electric, and my body buzzes with the same energy I get whenever Sebastian touches me.

"You came," he whispers as soon as he pulls back, but his lips hover there, in front of mine, as if begging to be kissed more.

I resist the urge to wrap my arms around him and kiss him harder, fiercer. Sebastian has this way of teasing me, nipping at my lips and chest and skin and leaving me wanting so much more. He says it's his way of keeping me on my toes, and holy hell does it work. All I can think about is the next moment we're kissing, or touching, or our clothes are off and he goes inside of me.

"Always," I say. My lips are still tingling as I close the door behind me and step fully inside.

The chandeliers hanging from the ceiling above twinkle in the light, and a soft melody plays from a speaker in the corner of the room, sounding like a kind of lullaby. The whole suite is rich and expensive, polished and smelling of fresh clean, and it's magical, really, dark and haunting and magical, to be here with him. It's an addiction, this room, this night, this man. It's an addiction and I don't want to stop.

Slowly, Sebastian makes his way over to the dresser, where two red wine glasses sit, picks them up, and then takes a seat at the edge of our bed. He pats the space beside him, motioning for me to join him. I obey.

"Today, I want to tell you a story," he says as I sit down. Sebastian's voice is rough and soft all at once, and it sounds so nice that if it were a song, I would play it on repeat. "Come into my arms," he says, and I do. I sit on the edge of his thigh and let him wrap his arms around me. He shifts me to the right so that I'm in his lap, and his arms are across my stomach. Sebastian's body is so hot against mine, and I let myself relax in his arms, pooling away in the strength in security his presence brings.

He rests his chin on my shoulder, whispering, "I'm so glad you're here," into my ear, and then he kisses me softly at the end of my earlobes, nipping at my skin, and it feels so, so right. My body tingles in anticipation of where he might kiss next.

"Do you like that, angel?" he whispers, his tongue moving along my earlobe.

"Yes," I say in between breaths, wanting nothing more than for him to drag his lips down to my mouth, then my breasts, and then lower still.

He smiles, but stops kissing me. "Good," he whispers. "Now are you ready for my story?"

"Always, Sebastian," I whisper, closing my eyes and savoring his touch, the feel of him beside me. His breath is warm and soft, and I can feel the curl of his lips as he smiles, his mouth still so close to my ear.

"Once upon a time, there was a boy." Sebastian's voice is rough in my ear, rough and sexy, and I have to close my eyes, listening to him, letting everything else fade away. "His alcoholic dad beat him when he was only ten and his mom was too cocaine-addicted to do anything about it. He had a brother, too. A little brother, who was only eight at the time, and soon his dad started beating the little brother too. But the boy knew his brother was too young to take it, and so he stood in front of his brother to keep him safe." His voice quiets with each word, dragging them out slowly. His eyes focus sadly on the empty wall in front of him, and suddenly I realize this story is more than just fiction. "The father was enraged by this, and so he took to hitting the boy extra hard, and the boy sucked it all up to save his brother, to keep his brother alive. But then one day, it became too much." My heart starts beating faster. "And the boy… well, the boy died at the hands of his father. The beating became so much that the boy's body couldn't take it. It wasn't until the father realized what he'd done that he started sobbing, trying to save his son, but it was too late. And then he took his own life out of pure desperation, and the little brother who the boy saved was shaking and scared, and he didn't know what to do, so he ran. He left the boy who had saved him, left his mother, left his family. The brother was a coward, but he just didn't know what to do. He ran and ran until a woman he didn't know found him by a pair of dumpsters and took him in as her own son, as she couldn't have one of her own. For ten years she cared for him, loved him, and nurtured him. She homeschooled instead of enrolling him in school, gave him lessons on how to defend himself and how to treat woman and how to make it in the world. And then when he turned eighteen, he left to find a job elsewhere, telling the woman who raised him he'd return soon. But he lied, because he never spoke to the woman again. He always had a way of leaving the people he cared about." Sebastian sighs. His eyes are distant, and he is the closest I've ever seen him to crying. "That brother was me, angel," he says quietly. "I don't have anyone left. Anyone," he whispers into my ear, "but you."

I stiffen up at the tenderness in his words. It takes me a minute to realize that Sebastian just opened up to me--like, really opened up to me. For the first time. Ever. The only time I'd ever opened up to him was to tell him about my parents, and my suicide, and my loss of my dance career, and that's all he knows about me.

"I'm sorry," I say quietly, not knowing what else to tell him. Then, I look up to meet his eyes. They look fragile and strong all at once, a fierce blue holding back a deep secret.

"Don't be," he whispers. "Don't ever be sorry." He starts kissing me again, holding me close and letting his warmth wrap around me as he kisses my nose, then my cheek, then, suddenly, my lips. The tension in my body relaxes at his kiss, and I close my eyes and kiss him back, fierce and passionate, moving my body onto his, my breasts against his chest.

I need Sebastian like I need to breathe. I need his kiss to heal me. And he needs me back.

That's the thing about our relationship: we're just there for each other. No questions asked. No worries needed. No drama. No nothing but each other and our feelings and our broken pasts.

"Sebastian?" I ask as he starts nipping at the bottom of my mouth with his lips, sending a wave of tingles throughout my body.

He stops kissing me, but he keeps his lips on mine. "Yes?" he breathes.

I hesitate. "Why did you never talk to the woman again?"

He doesn't answer right away. Just looks away, his stomach heaving, his eyes on the snow-covered window. His face looks distant, and I know he's in deep thought, remembering all everyone did for him and all he left behind. For a while, I just let myself enjoy his warmth, the coziness of his presence, listening to each of his steady breaths, feeling his stomach move up and down and up and down beneath me. I could fall asleep here if I wanted to, I realize. I could stay here forever. I could spend eternity in Sebastian's arms, and I would never be hurt again. He would protect me; he would save me.

My heart aches for him, like physically aches, and all I want to do is to put my lips back on his, to kiss him until everything is okay again. I want to save Sebastian like he saves me.