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Rolling over in bed the next morning, I stretch but freeze when a hand glides over my bare stomach. Snapping my eyes open, I realize I’m not home in my twin-sized bed. The lack of a lumpy pillow should have been my first clue that last night wasn’t a dream. I look over at Gavriel, but he seems to be sleeping still. He must have come home really late if I didn’t wake to him. Hmm, I usually sleep very light, but maybe the events of last night just wore me out. Thinking of last night has me rubbing my thighs together, but I have to put a cap on it for now. We’re in his parents’ home and I don’t know if they’re in the next room over.
God, that would be so embarrassing if they heard my moans.
Just imagining that has me blushing.
Shaking those thoughts off, I focus on Gavriel’s face.
His nose is straight, but it looks like it’s been broken once before. He has a scar I never noticed. It starts at his right sideburn and goes down toward his chin. I wonder how he got that. His dark hair is sleep mused, looking extremely sexy, but up close I can see that the tips are lighter. I’m sure that in the sunlight they’d look burnt brown instead of the dark strands I normally see at night. I’ve never seen him during the daylight hours. Usually it’s after sundown that we come across one another. I wonder what other differences I’ll notice.
His mother’s eyes are a stunning green, not light nor dark, but Gavriel gets his dark eyes from his father. Maybe like his hair, there’ll be differences in the daylight.
Either way, his eyes are one of my favorite attributes on him, they speak loudly and more clearly than his words. They promise me pleasure and safety, but to others they promise pain and suffering.
I run my eyes down his form to his chest where his tattoo is. I can see he shaves his chest hair, which is bonus points for me because I honestly cannot stand body hair. I run my fingers over his arm up to his jaw and stroke his light stubble and lightly touch his scar. When I lean in to lay a kiss to his lips, he gives me a deep rumble.
“Good morning,bello,” I say as I kiss him a second and third time as he slowly wakes up.
Kissing me back and pulling me in so that I’m lying halfway on him as he rolls onto his back, he says, “Buongiorno, angelo mio.” Good morning, my angel.
God, when he speaks Italian, I swear my pussy throbs. I lay my head on his chest and he rubs my back. It’s perfect and it feels so fucking right. It's all-consuming and I don’t want it to ever end. I’ve never been a sap. I’ve always scoffed at romance and love. I mean, I’m not an unfeeling human, I do have feelings, but I figured love wasn’t going to find me and I was okay with that too.
But right here, right now, and anytime I’m near Gavriel, I feel like it’s a possibility.
More than, actually.
I want to show him how much he's affected me, how much I want him. I want to be the woman he wakes up to every day and I want to lie with him every night. I want to be the one who calls him mine and I want everyone to know just how much I care for him. I want to be the one he shares his secrets with, the one woman he can truly count on to listen and understand him, because I can. I see the wickedness within him, that living characteristic that dwells in his heart. I see it because I have it too. I can be his backup and I can be his comforter. I can be the one he relies on when everyone else lets him down.
With that thought, I turn a little and lick his nipple and bite him. I don't really know how to do what I'm planning to do, but his groan tells me I'm doing something right. I get up on my knees and continue licking and kissing his chest, going lower. He picks his head up, causing his washboard abs to flex under my tongue.
"You're so sexy down there, baby girl." His voice is deep with sleep and it has me squeezing my inner thighs together.
I get to the elastic band of briefs and bite the V there. Fucking hell. I don't know how to give head, but there's no way in hell I'm not going to try. I rub his hard shaft through the cotton material with one hand while I climb in between his knees. His heavy breathing is spurring me on. Once I'm situated, I sit back on my calves and free him from his boxers. He lifts his hips a little so I can pull them farther. Once his cock is free and ready, I wrap my hand around him and listen to him as he hisses while he drops his head back against the pillows.
"Oh, fuck,bella. Your hand feels so good."
"I don’t know what to do, Gavriel. Will you show me how you like it?" I blush because, fuck I don't know how to work a stick.
Don't ask, you don't learn, right? Right.
"You're killing me, Sia, you're fucking perfect." He wraps his hand around mine and squeezes while pumping a few times then removes his hand and lets me do it.
I mean, it's not that difficult to give a hand job, but his size is a bit intimidating. My fingers don't quite touch and when I let it go it rests just under his navel. I see a bead of precum on his slit, so acting on instinct, I lean forward and lick it. His salty and intoxicating taste has me pushing the tip of my tongue into the slit to get more.
His hips buck up with a deep rumble from his chest, like he's barely holding himself back from grabbing my head and slamming into me.
Not a bad thought; in fact it has my already achy clit throbbing further. Seeing how I have affected him and hearing all his dark sounds, I open my mouth and take him as deep as I can. I gag a bit but keep going. I suck him in, swirling my tongue around his bulbous head, and even lightly drag my teeth on him.
I want him to take control, not treat me like a fragile doll, so I sit up, letting him fall from my mouth, and say, "Put your hand on me and guide me. I don't know how to do this."
"I didn’t do that because I don't think I can control myself with how good you're making me feel."
"Maybe I don't want you to control yourself. I'm not weak, Gavriel, I can take some dominance."
Suddenly he gets off the bed and I'm about to threaten the shit out of him if he leaves me wet and needy, but then he stands next to me and says, "Come here, baby girl."
I crawl over on my knees and look up at him.
"Take off your shirt,now."
Fuck yes!
This is what I was waiting for. I undo the buttons on the red shirt I borrowed and slide my arms out of the sleeves.
"Put your wrists together in front of you."
I do and he takes the shirt and wraps it around my forearms and wrists. Once he's satisfied, he looks me in the eye and asks, "Are you sure?"
To my complete embarrassment, I say what's been running through my head on repeat since he began tying my hands."Yes, daddy."
