and now it is gone again, and I feel a hollow loneliness instead.
I think of all the things he has said to me in that voice. The sweet things. The angry things. And best of all, the filthy things. Gabriel is always in control, and sex is no different. He gives commands, then rewards you for following them. Or punishes you for not following them.
Sometimes that’s even better.
I feel a pang of heat deep in my belly, and my fingers glide over the front of my panties, idly stroking my folds through the cotton.
I build the scenario in my head. There is no camera in my bedroom, but for the sake of my fantasy, I pretend there is and that I’m putting on a show. I picture Gabriel sitting in his office, bent over his computer screen as he watches my fingers dip below the fabric of my underwear, gliding over my wet slit.
Of course, he wouldn’t be able to resist touching himself too once he saw my arched back, lips parted, hand strumming at my clit. I like to think he would have to come over right away. That he couldn’t stand the sight of me pleasuring myself without his permission. He would break through the door just as I was about to crest that most glorious wave and deny me the satisfaction. I let myself drift into the fantasy.
I writhe in the sheets, my face flushed with heat. I am so close. So. Close.
The door slams inward, and before I know what is happening, a shape covers me in the dark, ripping my hands away from my body and pressing them up and over my head.
The figure is shadowed in darkness, but I smell sandalwood and male musk. Gabriel.
He leans over, his body pressing me hard into the mattress. His lips caress the shell of my ear as he hisses, “Did you think I was just going to let you get away with it?”
“With what?” I buck up against him and find him hard at the apex of my legs.
“Teasing me.” He sucks my earlobe into his mouth and nibbles it. “Tempting me. Making me want you when I know that I can’t have you.”
“Can’t you?”
Gabriel sucks in a breath and grinds against me. “You’re right,” he murmurs. “I can have you anytime I want. You’re still mine.”
My fingers rub over my sensitive nub, sending pulses of delicious heat through me. I start to move faster. My scalp tingles.
Gabriel keeps ahold of my wrists in one large hand while he unzips with the other. I feel his weight against my thigh, and his lips come to my neck.
“Tell me that you want it,” he says.
I keep my lips pressed tight, even as a moan threatens to rip through me.
His hands tighten on my wrists, and he rubs his hard length against the front of my panties. I suppress another moan, teeth gritted tightly.
“Tell me,” he orders. His deep voice cuts through me like a knife. There is a measure of desperation in it, and I know he needs me right now every bit as much as I need him.
I can’t hold back any longer. “I want it. Please.”
Gabriel emits a deep growl and rips my panties right off me, tossing the torn fabric to the ground. He wedges himself between my thighs, and I feel his thick head at my entrance, pressing into me.
Heat washes over me. I rub furiously, tension pooling deep in my belly.
Gabriel drives in. His hips crash into mine, and I let out a moan of pure bliss as he fills me, stretches me, owns me completely.
“That’s right,” he groans, pulling out and then slamming home again. “I’m the one who gets to make you come. You’re mine, Tiger. All mine.”
My hand grips the sheets as I climb to the peak of pleasure, eyes screwed shut. It’s good. So good. I imagine him above me, his dark hair falling over the deep pools of his eyes as he fucks me senseless.
I break right down the middle, pleasure ripping through me. White flashes behind my eyes. I go perfectly still, not even breathing, as everything in my world blurs at the edges and then comes slowly into focus.
The room is deadly silent until the sounds of my hoarse breaths fill it again.
The loneliness continues to lap at my ankles like soft, hissing waves. I wonder how long until the tide comes in.
11
Gabriel
Never in my life have I wished more that Vito was still alive. I