“Fuck, you’re perfect,” Gabriel growls against my throat, his hands tugging my shirt over my head. His voice is low, possessive, like he’s staking his claim on every inch of me. “I don’t deserve you, but I’m keeping you anyway.”
“Don’t say that.” I don’t know how I manage to get the words out between the way he’s touching me, his fingers brushing over my skin like I’m his lifeline. “Of course, you do.”
His lips crash into mine again, harder this time, his hands working my jeans free. “I need you naked. Now.” His command sends a rush of heat through me, and I’m quick to help him strip off the rest of my clothes.
“Fuck, Cecilia,” he says my name like a plea. “You’re fucking perfect.”
The way he looks at me—like he’s devouring me with his eyes—makes me shiver. His eyes darken as he drinks me in, his expression growing hungrier by the second.
“Gabriel?” I ask when all he does is continue to stare.
My voice must snap him out of his reverie because the next thing I know, he’s stripping off his own clothes, each piece falling to the floor with a newfound sense of urgency.
I only have a few seconds to take in the rigid lines of his abdomen and his thick, muscular thighs before he’s on me again—his body pressing mine into the mattress, his lips claiming mine as if it’s the only thing keeping him alive.
It doesn’t take long before I’m drowning in him, my mind spinning, dizzy with desire.
“Gabriel,” I gasp, my hands clutching at his back, pulling him closer. I want this. I want him. And I don’t care about anything else.
“God, I want you.” His voice is rough, his breath hot against my ear as his hand slides between my thighs, teasing me with just enough pressure to make me gasp. “Tell me you want this. Want me.”
“Yes,” I breathe, my voice trembling with need. As if I could ever deny him. “Always.”
“Mine.” He growls against my skin, his fingers working me into a frenzy, his touch possessive and sure. And when I come apart in his hands, I know with absolute certainty that this is where I belong. I was an idiot for ever thinking we needed to take things slow.
Gabriel's lips trail fire down my neck, each kiss pulling a shaky breath from my chest as I come down from my release. His hands are everywhere—rough palms tracing the curve of my hips, sliding over my thighs, leaving a path of heat in their wake. I shudder beneath him, the world narrowing to the feel of his skin on mine, the weight of his body pressing me into the bed.
“Cecilia …” he groans, his voice thick and strained as if he’s barely holding himself together. There’s something raw about the way he looks at me now, like I’m the only thing keeping him from unraveling.
His lips find mine again, hungry and demanding, and I meet his kiss with the same intensity, my body arching into his. I can’t think straight, can’t focus on anything but the feel of him, the way his breath hitches when I run my hands down his chest. I’m desperate—aching—for more. I need him inside of me. I need … fuck. I can’t think.
“Tell me what you need,” he growls, pulling back just enough for his dark eyes to burn into mine, the heat in his gaze making my heart race. His thumb brushes over my lower lip, and I feel like I’m coming undone under the weight of his stare.
“I need you,” I whisper, breathless, my voice barely more than a plea. I don’t recognize this version of myself—the one who’s willing to beg. But for him? For Gabriel, I’d happily get down on my knees. “Please,” I gasp. “I need you inside me.”
He growls again, low in his throat, before his hands slide down to my thighs, spreading them open, his gaze never leaving mine. “Fuck, baby,” he breathes, his chin dropping down to his chest. “We said slow but …” he curses.
My body thrums with anticipation. “I don’t want slow,” I tell him. “I want you. I want this, Gabriel. Please.”
That’s all it takes to break the last of his control.
In one swift motion, he’s baring down on me, his length lining up between my thighs, his lips crashing down on my mouth in a kiss that steals the air from my lungs. I clutch at his back, nails digging into his skin, desperate to hold on to something—anything—as he moves against me. As he sinks inch after torturous inch into my dripping entrance.
Every touch is electric, every kiss is fire, and I feel like I’m about to burst, the tension between us coiling tighter and tighter until it feels like I might snap. His name slips from my lips, a soft moan that seems to drive him wild. His hands grip my hips as he moves faster, harder, his breath hot against my ear.
I’m lost in him, completely undone, my body shaking as the pleasure builds and builds until it’s too much, until I’m falling apart beneath him all over again. My mind is spinning, my heart racing, and his name is the only thing I can think, the only word I can say.
“Gabriel!” In one perfect, overwhelming moment, I shatter.
His hands hold me steady, grounding me as the pleasure washes over me, wave after wave.
But he doesn’t stop.
He moves against me with the same intensity, his lips tracing the curve of my neck, biting down just enough to make me arch into him. The rhythm of his hips is steady, relentless, dragging me higher and higher again, even though I feel like I’ve already given him everything I have.
“Fuck,” he growls against my skin, his voice thick, almost desperate. “Cecilia … you have no idea what you do to me.”
I can barely think, let alone speak. The sound of his voice—raw, strained, full of need—pushes me toward the edge again.Oh god. I can’t. No. It’s too much.
