CHAPTER 472: DAMSEL DAMSEL

"Your ridiculous wizard," he corrected again, kissing between her breasts as he finally freed her from her bodice. "Gods, you’re stunning... Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do this? To see you like this? To—" His words cut off in a groan as his hands slid over her bare skin, memorizing every curve. "Damsel, you’re perfect. You’re going to kill me."

"Sebastian, stop talking," Thalia gasped, blushing so hard she could feel it in her chest.

What does he mean he’d waited so long? She could roll her eyes– it was that long ago they left each other.

"You love it when I talk. Admit it." he taunted.

She didn’t answer—because his mouth was already traveling lower, kissing the soft swell of her breasts, then closing over one nipple. Thalia gasped sharply, arching into him.

"Oh? You like that, my lady?" he teased against her skin, flicking his tongue lazily. "Do you want me to worship you properly? Because I will. All night. Every damn inch of you."

Thalia’s upper body is now completely bare, so Sebastian stepped back, she felt exposed but admired so she watched him, "Come on, stand"

Without questions asked she does, her skirt flows down from her waist and her anticipation is skyrocketing.

What’s about to happen? She wondered.

He folds her skirt up calmly and then he smirked. Thalia has gulped quite a few times now.

He knelt before her now, looking up with a grin that was almost reverent. "You’re standing there like a queen, and I’m about to ruin you like a very loyal subject. May I?"

Thalia covered her face with her hands, groaning. "Sebastian!"

"That’s not a no." He winked before pressing his lips to her thigh, kissing softly, then licking a slow, teasing line upward.

Thalia shivered, her hands tangling in his hair now as he hooked his fingers under her skirts.

"You smell like temptation itself, damsel. Are you going to let me taste you?"

Her answer was a shaky nod, and Sebastian chuckled, low and pleased. "Good girl."

When his mouth finally met her, Thalia’s knees nearly buckled. Sebastian held her firmly in place, one arm around her hip as his tongue worked slow, deliberate patterns.

He alternated between long, lazy licks and quick teasing flicks, humming in approval whenever she moaned.

"Gods, you’re sweet. I think I’m addicted already," he muttered between kisses.

"Sebastian—please, don’t stop," she gasped, her fingers gripping his hair desperately.

"You’re not allowed to say please unless you mean it, damsel. And oh, I think you mean it." He quickened his pace, sucking gently now, and Thalia cried out, biting her lip to muffle the sound.

"Louder," he whispered against her. "I want the whole castle to know who’s making you feel this way."

Thalia whimpered, trembling under his relentless mouth, and Sebastian smiled against her, his fingers joining in to circle her with delicious precision.

"Come for me, my lady. That’s an order from your wizard."

And when she did, clutching his shoulders as her body tensed and shuddered, Sebastian only held her through it, kissing her thighs reverently.

When she finally caught her breath, Sebastian stood, smug as ever, licking his lower lip like he’d just had the best meal of his life.

"I told you I’d worship you, didn’t I?" he whispered, brushing her hair from her flushed face.

"Should I be back in my room now?," she mumbled, still dazed. Sebastian ignored that question.

"You adore me," he teased, kissing her gently this time, slow and soft after the storm. "And gods help me, Thalia—I might actually adore you more."

Then they went on to do more unholy things to each other.

Thalia was here.

The silly maid, the one who is so clumsy it was a miracle she lasted this long, now sat perched on the edge of the bed, her back straight but her chest rising and falling with nervous anticipation.

Her dark curls framed her flushed face, and her fingers trembled slightly in her lap as Sebastian moved closer.

The wizard, in contrast, was infuriatingly calm. Too calm. They might have had sexual intercourse before but this one was in a different comfortable place and she was clear-headed.

"Relax, damsel," he said in that maddeningly smooth voice of his, the one that wrapped around words like silk.

"I am relaxed," Thalia argued, her cheeks flaming hotter at how breathless she sounded.

Sebastian chuckled—low, wicked, amused. He knelt before her, his long fingers curling around her ankle as he slowly, deliberately slid her shoe off.

The featherlight touch of his hands against her skin made her jump slightly, and his grin widened.

"You’re lying," he said simply, tilting his head up to watch her reaction. "Your pulse is practically screaming at me. Are you afraid of me, or... of yourself?"

Thalia swallowed, her breath hitching when his hands trailed higher, circling her calf with slow, reverent strokes. "I... I don’t know."

"Then let me help you find out."

Sebastian leaned in, pressing his lips to her knee—soft, barely there, more worship than seduction.

Thalia gasped, her hands twitching, wanting to push him away but instead gripping the sheets behind her.

"Sebastian, what are you doing to me?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

"Exactly what you’re letting me do," he murmured, kissing higher now, his words brushing against her skin like velvet. "And gods, Thalia, the strongest men in Wyfkeep don’t make me pause, but one look from you—" He looked up at her, his dark eyes glinting with a rare softness. "You undo me, damsel. Every damn time."

Thalia’s breath caught, her heart thundering. "You’re too much. A ridiculous wizard." she giggled.

"Your ridiculous wizard," he corrected smoothly, now standing, his hands sliding to her waist.

Now, When he kissed her, it wasn’t rushed—it was devotional. His lips moved with care, as though he were tasting a forbidden fruit he’d longed for far too long.

His hands cradled her face, thumbs stroking her cheeks as if she were the only treasure worth holding.

Thalia, who had never been touched with such deliberate tenderness, melted against him.

"You... worship women with words, don’t you? That’s your magic," she whispered against his mouth.

"No, Thalia," Sebastian whispered back, his forehead resting against hers, his voice suddenly raw, honest. "The magic is that you believe me when I say you deserve every damn word."

Her hands, once trembling, now clung to him with certainty. She kissed him deeper this time, fingers curling into his hair.

And Sebastian—hopeless wizard that he was—smiled against her lips like a man utterly defeated by love.