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He gently placed her on the bed, removed his waistcoat, and did away with his shirt. With his chest revealed, she sucked in a breath. His build was lean muscle distributed across broad shoulders, a granite chest, a rippling stomach, and a pronounced v that led to narrow hips and muscular thighs.
Sitting up, Anastasia touched him tentatively at first then more firmly as she splayed her hands over his nipples, and he stifled a groan.
Gabriel’s features were shadowed, the firelight casting a surreal glow around him, inducing Anastasia into a fantasy. She reached for the tie of her gown, but he stopped her
“No, wait,” Gabriel said. “I want to undress you.” The words sent shivers down her spine, closely followed by liquid fire as his hands stripped her of every stitch, her dress met the floor, her stays next, and finally her chemise pooled on the floor.
His eyes ran over her slender form; her high breast topped with dusk nipples, nipped-in waist, and her shapely legs. “You’re lovely,” he said, easing her back on the bed and joining her. “Stunning, exquisite…mine.”
Gabriel’s growl made her back arch off the bed, and before she knew what was happening, he held her wrists above her head. He kissed her hard then moved his lips down to the swell of her breasts. He brought his mouth over the tip of her swollen, tingling skin, tonguing her nipple.
The shock of his mouth was like a lick of fire, and when he suckled and nipped lightly at it with his teeth then blew on it, her blood felt molten.
“My hands. Let me use my hands.”
“No.”
He continued kissing his way down her body, now pinning her hands to her sides. He flicked his tongue around her belly button before finally delving inside, drawing a groan from her. Then he kissed further and further down until he came to her curls.
Anastasia was quickly becoming lost in the sensual heat spreading through her. Gabriel pulled her hips apart and placed himself between them. “Do you know what I am going to perform on you, sweetheart?”
Her hand lanced into his hair while her pelvis tilted up. “Based on the forbidden books I’ve read, yes.”
She shivered as his hands seductively stroked up calves and thighs, and his tongue dipped and played in the indent in her belly. He moved lower, kissing the back of her knees, first the right then the left. He kissed and licked his way up her legs until Ana thought she would scream.
She was being sensually tortured; nothing in her life had ever felt this sinfully good. She thought her body wouldn’t take anymore when he kneeled between her legs, and she felt his hand touch her inner core. He stroked her gently, massaging her dampness into the soft feminine folds.
Much to Anastasia’s surprise, she became wetter. He gently slid one finger over her, stroking and soothing, acclimatizing her to this touch. She unconsciously spread her knees wide, giving him more room to tease her, pleasure her, and stoke her inner flames.
She tilted her hips up instinctively, and Gabriel groaned in approval. She was so sensitive it was almost painful, and yet, he managed to push her into a sensual abyss. The first touch of his tongue to her secret flesh destroyed her with tender licks at her drenched sex, piercing her flesh with mind-splintering pleasure when his tongue curled and rasped over the sensitive nub.
Anastasia tangled her fingers in his hair, biting her lip to keep from screaming. He gently slid one finger inside her, stroking her velvet walls, pushing deeper. He tortured her mercilessly with his tongue and fingers until she flew over the edge, crying out wantonly as a shiver raked her from head to curling toe. Her climax came and went, leaving her shattered like thousands of falling stars.
CHAPTER10
Rule Eleven: One does not cuddle with the lady
Cuddling means affection, something fit for babes and tiny pets. Rakes find their pleasure, and they leave.
—Gabriel Williams
A Rake’s Rules
When she did open her eyes, it was to see Gabriel braced over her, his face struck with—amazement. She opened her mouth to confess the darkest secret she held back but swallowed over it. “How many more kisses do I owe you?”
He chuckled and kissed her collarbone. “None, sweet.”
After he moved from the bed and donned a robe, he went to pour out a glass of brandy—and Anastasia felt cold and alone, not because of the wind raging outside or the chilled air but rather because she wanted him near her. She had not thought carnal surrender would bring this overwhelming sense of intimacy between them.
He sat in a chair by the fire, and while she covered herself, she asked, “Gabriel, are you not going to join me?”
His bright eyes looked over the glass. “I do not cuddle, sweetheart.”
Something chilled inside her, “Another rule, I suppose?”
“More like an act of self-preservation,” he replied.
Now she truly shivered; what was there to expect? It was not as if he would change his ways over an hour—no matter how pleasurable the hour had been.
