Stone Rich: Her 1st Experience

Chapter Ten: The Sullied Shower - Sebastian

Sebastien sat across from Allison at the dinner table, his whiskey glass in hand. The room was dimly lit, and the sound of distant traffic outside only heightened the tense silence between them. Allison was talking, her voice steady, but he wasn't truly listening. His mind was a storm—frustration, desire, and confusion swirling together in a mess he couldn't untangle.

It had started the moment he looked at her picture, then she had the audacity to show up at his office. Her scent, her presence—it was as if she had crept under his skin and refused to leave. It was a maddening, intoxicating feeling, one that left him teetering between complete control and utter chaos. This was only day one, there was were still a few more steps before the plan would be completed.

Allison placed her wineglass on the table with a soft clink, snapping him back to reality.

"You're not even listening," she said, a trace of concern in her voice. She was his little sister, always perceptive, always noticing when something was off.

Sebastien leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. "Sorry. Just distracted." He couldn't admit the truth to her—not about Malaya. That would complicate everything. The plan was still in motion, and any sign of weakness could unravel it all.

"You seem... off," Allison pressed, her gaze narrowing. "Is something going wrong with the plan?"

He took a deep breath, weighing his words carefully. "The plan is fine. Everything's in place. But there's something I didn't anticipate." His voice was gruff, as if admitting the truth to himself hurt more than he expected.

Allison tilted her head, curiosity piqued. "What?"

He stood up abruptly, the scrape of his chair loud against the hardwood floor. "Doesn't matter," he growled. "I need to clear my head."

Allison frowned but didn't push further. "Alright. Let me know if you need anything."

Sebastien gave her a curt nod before making his way out of the kitchen. His feet felt heavy as he walked toward his room, the hollow sound of his steps echoing down the hallway. He had thought dinner would distract him, maybe even ground him, but all it did was remind him how much Malaya had consumed his thoughts.

The door to his room felt cold under his fingertips as he pushed it open, stepping into the quiet space. The king-sized bed, the dark wood furniture, the sleek décor—it all seemed to mock him in its emptiness. As if his body knew she wasn't there.

Shrugging out of his jacket, he tossed it onto a chair, feeling more trapped in his clothes than comfortable. His muscles ached with tension, his skin felt too tight, and his mind was on fire with thoughts of her—of Malaya. No matter how hard he tried to push her out, she clawed her way back in, invading every corner of his mind.

He undid the buttons of his shirt with jerky, impatient movements, tearing it from his body and letting it fall to the floor. His pants followed next, until he stood in nothing but his boxers, staring at his reflection in the mirror.

His eyes were dark, his jaw clenched, and his chest rose and fell in heavy, uneven breaths. He couldn't shake her image. The way she had stood in his office, challenging him with every word, every look. And the worst part? He wanted her—desperately. More than he'd wanted anyone in a long time.

Sebastien stepped into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Steam billowed around him as the water hit the black marble tiles, but even that did little to ease the tightness in his body. He stepped under the spray, letting the hot water cascade over him, sluicing through his hair and down his back.

But it wasn't enough.

With his hands flat against the stone wall, Sebastien hung his head, trying to shake her from his mind. His muscles tensed as he fought against the pull, but it was no use. His body betrayed him, his cock already swelling at the thought of her.

His eyes fluttered shut as he pressed his forehead against the cool marble, trying to drown out the desire that coursed through him. But as soon as he closed his eyes, she was there—Malaya.

Goddamn her.

In his mind, she stood before him, her body bare, her skin glowing in the dim light of his room. The way she moved, so deliberate, so sensual—his breath hitched as he imagined her walking toward him, the curve of her hips swaying with each step.

His hand moved almost unconsciously, wrapping around his hardness as the fantasy played out in vivid detail. He stroked himself slowly, keeping a steady pace as he gave in to the images in his mind.

He imagined Malaya undressing, her eyes locked on his, teasing him with every inch of skin she revealed. She was everything he wanted and everything he hated—her defiance, her strength, her fire. And yet, he couldn't stop. Couldn't stop wanting her.

In his mind, she dropped to her knees before him, her lips parted as she whispered, "Are you ready to play, Master?"

The words sent a shiver down his spine, and Sebastien's hand tightened around himself. He pumped harder, faster, his breath coming in short gasps as he imagined Malaya taking him in, her body submitting to him, her mouth warm and wet against his skin.

He groaned, the sound low and guttural, as the fantasy consumed him. His hips bucked, his hand working with a desperate rhythm, and before he could stop himself, he was there—spilling white streaks against the shower wall, his body trembling with release.

For a moment, the tension eased, the tightness in his chest loosening as the fantasy faded. But it didn't last.

As soon as the euphoria subsided, the frustration returned, harsher and more bitter than before. He had given in to his desires, and yet it hadn't relieved the ache. If anything, it made it worse.

Quickly, Sebastien soaped and rinsed his body, his movements rough, as if trying to scrub away the evidence of his weakness. But no amount of soap could wash away the hold Malaya had on him.

He turned off the shower and stepped out, grabbing a towel to dry off. His reflection in the mirror was the same, but he felt different—like a man on the verge of losing control. He had tried to shake her from his mind, but his body had other ideas.

This wasn't just lust. It was something more dangerous. Something that could break him if he wasn't careful.

Sebastien walked into his bedroom, throwing the towel aside. He climbed into bed, knowing it would be a long and restless night. Malaya Richardson was under his skin, and unless he found a way to exorcise her from his mind, she would tear him apart.

This has to end, he thought, his fists clenching the sheets. Or she will break me.

But deep down, he knew the truth: Malaya was already breaking him. And he wasn't sure if he wanted her to stop.