Sebastian Sallow and Noelle Ellis just can't understand each other's feelings.
sebastian sallow x OC
Disclaimer: This story contains mature content that may not be suitable for certain audience.
Published: February 2023.
28k reads? wow thank you. enjoy this 6k word chapter x
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Chapter 27: Our First Time *
This chapter contains mature content.
Noelle's Perspective
The last thing I expected in the brutal haze of my thoughts was for Sebastian Sallow to kiss me. To touch me, at least. My body was already on a static of taking the touch of his hand over my cheek, but kissing me?
I wasn't prepared to feel the warmth of his lips over mine. It was dizzying. The way he did it without thinking, as if, he read me. Like if he needed it as much as I did.
A kiss.
A touch.
A sense of...of,
My breath hitched as his fingers tickled down from my cheek and traveled to my waist, pressing it gently.
I should have pulled away. I should have questioned his actions, and just done something on the way, but I didn't. Instead, my hands worked on their own, grasping the fabric of his bloody cloth like a trophy and bringing him closer.
Physical touch was limited between us the past year, so when the barrier of those two words broke — it escalated quickly.
Sebastian's lips were soft. I'd most likely dreamt of them to be soft and tender, but to my expectations, they were way softer and pushier.
I couldn't initiate who brought out the tongue. It could've been me; it could've been him. Maybe, both from the way we synchronized perfectly.
Who knew — we were both so lost in the moment, the only thing that we did know was hearing the screeching sound of the chair, the one from the circular table as our tongues danced with practice.
Sebastian kissed with longing. I'd like to think he was pressuring his stress and madness onto me. Using the push as an escape to release, but the girl-mind in me hoped it was because he felt the same way. That he had feelings for me and didn't resist.
One hand stayed on my waist while I felt another cup underneath my left thigh, lifting it enough to rest my waist on top of the same wooden table — his hand was gentle, releasing off beneath my thigh and then resting it on top of it.
Sebastian's touch was warm. Everything was warm. His lips, his body air, his breath, his hands; I was beginning to feel sweat on me from just kissing him.
It felt messy. Scandalous. Kissing him — kissing each other at least. The fifth year version of us wouldn't have imagined such a thing. Sebastian would've considered it an absurd thought; I would've considered it a nightmare. (Yeah, right, as if).
