Page 67 of The Wrong Groom

My heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. “Tell me.”

Instead of answering with words, he kisses me again, harder this time. It catches me off guard, and I stumble back a step before I realize it’s him moving me, his weight steering me until my shoulders hit the wall. The impact knocks a gasp out of me, and he swallows it down, pressing in close like he can’t stand to have even an inch of space between us.

His hands roam without hesitation, and I let them, until his fingers catch the hem of my shirt and start to lift. That’s when the rest of the world rushes back in.

“Wait.” The word comes out in a rush. “Not here.”

I don’t really believe my father will come back, not after the way Gabriel called him out. But still, there are other people around, and it would be easy to take things too far if we let ourselves get carried away. The second this man touches me, all rational thought seems to flee my mind, leaving just one word running through my head over and over on repeat.

More.

Even just thinking it makes me crave exactly that—more of his lips, his tongue, his touch, his masculine scent. I glance around quickly, not even sure what I’m looking for until my eyes land on the door to a bathroom near the elevators. Gabriel’s gaze follows mine, and when he realizes what I’m looking at, he makes a noise in his chest that sends a little thrill through me.

He takes my hand and pulls me toward it before I can say anything. I can feel the urgency radiating off him as we push inside, and when he kicks the door shut and turns the lock, my thighs clench at the sound.

The bathroom is single occupancy, dimly lit, and well-decorated to match the high end aesthetic of the rest of the restaurant. It’s barely big enough for two, but Gabriel doesn’t seem to care about that one bit.

“Come here,” he murmurs roughly, tugging me back into his arms as if it’s been killing him that we had to interrupt our kiss earlier.

Our lips collide, and the way we grope and grind against each other is ten times hungrier than it was outside in the hallway because in here, we don’t have to hold back. No one can see us.

My arms wrap around his shoulders, fingers delving into his thick hair, and I find myself rising up onto my tiptoes to deepen the kiss. I’m barely aware that we’re moving until my back hits the door again, and Gabriel drags his mouth away from mine to trail burning kisses along the line of my jaw.

“This is what you do to me,” he murmurs against my mouth, his voice ragged. “This is what you bring out in me.”

I don’t have a response to that, and I’m not sure I could manage to speak even if I did. My nipples are tight, my chest aches from the effort of trying to keep my breathing regular, and my pulse is racing fast enough to make me lightheaded—but I don’t want him to stop. I never, ever want to lose this incredible feeling.

More, my body cries. More, more, more.

I must accidentally say the words out loud, because Gabriel cradles my face in his hand and leans back just an inch. “You want more, sunshine? Are you sure you can handle me?”

The question sends a full-body shiver through me, a shot of adrenaline making my stomach flip over on itself.

“Yes.”

The single word is past my lips before I can second-guess it, and his mouth is back on mine a heartbeat later. His hands skim my waist and then move upward, squeezing and massaging my breasts through my clothes. He pinches my nipples lightly, and everything in me lights up at the sharp burst of sensation.

Gabriel hums a low, pleased sound, and it makes me think of the satisfied grunts and groans he made when he was going down on me. He seemed to really enjoy it, more than I ever thought a guy would, like it was bringing him almost as much satisfaction as it did me, as hard as that is to believe. Like he was drinking up my pleasure, consuming it insatiably.

What does that feel like? To be so turned on by making someone else feel good?

I wanted more that night, even though it had already been more intense than any other sexual experience I’ve ever had, and although I was grateful that he seemed cognizant of easing me into things a little… I couldn’t help but be disappointed that we stopped there.

But nothing is stopping us now.

Almost before I’ve decided to do it, my hands drop to his belt and start fumbling with the buckle. He pulls back enough to watch me work it loose and draw his zipper down. I have no fucking idea where this courage is coming from, only that some wild part of me has taken over, and the next thing I know, I’m sinking to my knees in front of him.

Gabriel’s jaw tightens as he looks down at me, and when my eyes lift to his, something hungry flares in all that gray. He goes still and watches every move I make as I ease his pants down over his hips.

My mouth goes dry as more of him comes into view, and when the thick bulge of his cock pressing against his boxer briefs appears, I trap my lip between my teeth. I remember how big he is, and I have no idea how that monster of a cock is going to fit inside my mouth. But still, I want him so badly. I want to taste him, to feel him on my tongue, to watch his face as I give him at least a little of what he gave me.

I let his pants hang off his hips, tugging at the waistband of his boxer briefs to maneuver them over the hard length of his jutting cock. Once he’s free, I can’t resist letting my fingers reach out to trace one of the veins on his shaft, my gaze tracking the movement. His harsh groan bounces off the bathroom walls, and I feel a little gush of wetness soak the crotch of my panties in response.

After dragging my fingers back down his length, I wrap them around the girth of it, holding my breath. It’s so thick and hard that I’m not sure I can fit all of it—but god, I want to try. My eyes flick back to his, and the look he gives me could light the whole room on fire.

“Is this okay?” My voice comes out slightly uncertain, but the way he nods so immediately and emphatically banishes any worries I might’ve had that I’m taking things too far or that I misread this situation.

He swallows, his throat muscles working. “More than okay. Jesus, sunshine, you’ve barely even touched me, and you’ve got me right on the edge.”