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Gabriel is just as famished, obsessed, out of his mind. Everything about him screams control and dominance. I may have been the one to initiate the kiss, but he’s the one who takes it to a whole other level. His tongue is greedy, claiming my own feverishly. It’s enough to make me dizzy. This is so much more than a kiss. This is equal parts tender, desperate, and ravenous. He kisses me so deeply, so sensually, so all-consuming that I forget how to speak, how to think, how to do anything.
“Je t’aime, Raquel,” he rasps against me, sliding his hands down to grip me firmly at the waist. “Je t’aime et je suis désolé.”
“What does that mean?” I mumble, moaning softly when he grinds his growing erection against my thigh. He has me pinned between his body at the shower wall, surrounded by his big body and heated gaze.
He doesn’t translate for me. Instead, he drops to his knees, hands sliding down my outer thighs as he moves to lick at my clit. I tilt my head back and groan languidly, adoring the feel of his tongue swiping over my sensitive bud. My hands fly to his hair, fingers combing through his dark wet locks.
Gabriel’s a damn piece of art, kneeling before the altar of my thighs. The way he closes his eyes and hums as he works is the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen. He teases me like it’s his sole purpose for existing, drawing tight circles against my clit with the tip of his tongue. I can feel my self-control slipping with every stroke and light flick. I don’t dare look away, committed to memorizing this moment for all eternity.
My climax hits me hard and all at once. All I can do is let the pleasure flood through my veins, drowning me in ecstasy. I don’t know where I start and where the rest of the world begins, but as I surrender to Gabriel’s skillful mouth, I decide it doesn’t really matter. All I care about is him and us and what little time we have left.
“Gabriel,” I whine. “Gabriel, more.”
He rises dutifully, shrugging off his shirt while I make quick work of his drenched pants. He tosses the sopping fabric away, standing before me in all his naked glory. I lick my lips, eager to return the favor. It’s my turn to drop to my knees as his body shields me from the water. I peer up at him through my lashes, admiring the way his breath hitches when I drag my tongue along the bottom of his shaft from base to tip.
His eyes are dark as he caresses my cheek, watching me with adoration. “Beautiful,” he whispers.
I absorb his praise with glee, enjoying the warm tingle racing up and down my spine. His cock is hard and throbbing in my hand, leaking with arousal at the tip. Not wanting to waste another second, I wrap my lips around the head of his cock. Gabriel growls, low and guttural as I hollow my cheeks and suck him down in earnest. The heat of his length against my tongue is delicious, and I swear to God I feel him grow that much bigger in my mouth.
Bobbing my head rhythmically up and down his shaft, I savor the way he tastes. He mutters all manner of filthy things, sometimes in French, but more often than not in English for my benefit.
“Love fucking your mouth, Rocky,” he rasps. “That’s it, baby, just like that. God, you take me so deep. Touch yourself, little bird. Show me what makes you feel good.”
I obey —because fuck if I don’t love how demanding he can be sometimes— bringing my free hand to one breast to pinch at my nipple. It hardens beneath my touch, the heat of the water turning my sensitive skin pink the longer I remain on my knees for him.
I continue sucking and licking, wet at the thought of how powerful I feel. It’s incredibly liberating, having Gabriel at my mercy and on the brink of falling off the edge. Gabriel grunts, one of his big hands stroking my hair. I can tell he’s getting close by the way his breathing grows tight and shallow, his muscles tensing as I push him closer and closer to climax.
“Stand up, Raquel,” he orders, holding out a hand to help me to my feet.
I rise and immediately find his lips. It’s like our mouths have homing beacons for one another, never at risk of losing our way.
Gabriel grabs my thigh and hooks it over his hip, allowing him access to my throbbing core. He brings a hand down to my pussy, slowly stroking my folds. The water’s finally starting to get cold, but the combined heat of our bodies could sustain us for hours. He drags the tip of his erection along my pussy, gathering the slick heat before nudging my entrance. I can feel his hesitance, but since I know I’m already pregnant, there’s really no reason to worry.
“I want to feel you,” I murmur against his lips. I circle my arms around his neck and bump my nose affectionately against his. “Please, Gabriel. I don’t want anything between us.”
“Are you sure?”
“Fuck me,” I plead. “Come inside me. I want to be dripping with you.”
“Christ,” he hisses, pressing into me slowly.
He plunges deeper and deeper, my walls fluttering around him as he stretches me wide. I gasp into our next kiss. It’s slower, more tender. His thrusts come slowly, pulling all the way back out just to drive back in. We move together beautifully, chasing pleasure together at a leisurely pace. The head of his cock sweeps over my sweet spot with each and every one of his thrusts, a building pressure deep inside me growing brighter and hotter with every pass.
I whimper against him, dragging my nails down his back in search of purchase. I don’t want to let go. I don’t want this to end, but I can feel myself teetering on the brink of another climax.
“Ma belle,” he says hotly against my ear. “Mon amour.”
“Gabriel, I’m so close.”
“Don’t hold back, Raquel. Let me feel you milk my cock.”
I come undone around him, my pussy clenching his length as he pulses inside of me. I cry out as electricity arcs from nerve to nerve, euphoria sweeping in to claim me and my mind.
Gabriel never once lets me go, our bodies melting together. He lathers shampoo into my hair, washes my body with love and care. We rinse off, the water cool against our hot skin before stepping out together. He kisses me sweetly, drying us both off with the same big, fluffy towel.
A sleepy fog clouds my mind as Gabriel scoops me up in his arms and carries us to his bed. I curl up against him as he presses his lips to my forehead, one arm draped protectively over me and the blankets, like he’s afraid to let me go.
I think I’m the first to drift off, but I’m also the first to wake the next morning. There’s no point in putting off the inevitable. This is it. Our paths are officially diverging.
