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“Gabriel,” she says, her voice high in my ear, and breaks apart again in a third orgasm I didn’t have to ask for.
I can’t say no to that.
My release is a raw, aching thing. My ribs don’t appreciate the animal way I rut into her. They don’t have a choice in the matter.
I’m dimly aware of collapsing onto her. Fuck. Ribs. Somehow we end up at the pillows. Elise tucks herself into my side, fingertips tracing my ribs. “Wow,” she whispers. “Wow.”
“Not what you wanted?”
“EverythingI wanted. You—” She giggles, obviously sex-high. “You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”
“Only a little.”
“Gabriel, you can’t—”
“You needed it. And I promised you.”
Elise hesitates. “You needed it, too. At the end, you were…it was like the other night. You were…I don’t know. I felt you. If that makes any sense.”
“I should hope so, since I was balls-deep in your cunt.”
“Gabriel! That’s not what I meant.”
“I know, sweetness.” I’m surrounded by the sensation of her body against mine. Wrapped in it. “It was different.”
“Like you took off your shirt.”
I put the back of my hand to her forehead, pretending to check for a fever.
Elise laughs. “Like you took off yourperfectshirts. Your armor shirts. And it was just you underneath.”
A faint fear twists in my gut. “Did you like what was underneath?”
She pushes herself up so she can kiss me, slow and gentle, her tongue darting out to taste me. I think she almost forgets we’re in the middle of a conversation.Ialmost forget we’re in the middle of a conversation.
Until she pulls away again. “I love what’s underneath, Gabriel.”
“Good.”
“Now.” She wrinkles her nose. “Will you take a shower with me? You got lube all over me. And I want you to wash my hair.”
“You’re very demanding for a baker. I’m concerned you’ll lose your balance after what I put you through.”
Elise considers. “You could wash it while I’m on my knees. And just to be safe, I could keep my balance with your cock in my—”
“Get up. Go. Shower. Now.” My cock is already stirring, the insatiable bastard.
Elise gives me big, innocent eyes. “Are you sure?” At the look on my face, her eyes get bigger. “Okay! Okay. I’m going. No need to chase—Gabriel!”
I chase her anyway, just to hear her laugh.
21
GABRIEL
Saturday brunch is finallythe family gathering of Mason’s dreams.
I’m not kidding. He tears up three separate times over waffles. Nate watches him with one eyebrow arched.
