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“Gabe…” It takes all my self-control to fist a handful of his shirt, to hold him as I lean back, giving me an inch of breathing space.
“Let me guess, you’ve never done this before?” Gabe cocks his eyebrow.
“You got a fetish about taking delicate virgin flowers?” I growl. “And you’d better give me the right answer, or I’m kneeing you in the balls.”
“No fetish, I’m just…” Gabriel kisses the tip of my nose. “It would be an honor, Mac. But are you sure you want it to be me? What about Eli?”
I shake my head. Eli… if I chose him, it would mean something. Eli couldn’t have sex with someone without giving away a piece of himself, and I’m already broken enough as it is without carrying someone else’s pain around with me. It would open a window into things I’m not ready to say, not when there are still so many secrets.
Not when I promised him I wouldn’t lie.
Eli would be wonderful as a boyfriend, but I’ve already hurt him so deeply he’ll never heal. I may be the Ice Queen, but I’m not cold enough for that game.
But Gabriel… he doesn’t bring emotions to us – there’s no weight of a history only one of us recalls crushing us together. Gabe can make me feel without giving away a piece of himself. He does it night after night on stage, and judging by the pure sex that spills from his mouth every time he sings, he’ll be damn good at it.
“Everything’s messed up,” I murmur, stroking his arm, tracing the lines of the snake tattoo encircling his wrist. His skin feels so good. “But I don’t care. Right now, tonight, I want you. I want you to make me feel something. Just, you know… don’t expect one of your sex-crazed groupies.”
“How about this? We’ve got this room all night. We can go back downstairs if you want, or we can stay up here, and kiss, and touch…” Gabriel circles his thumb on my bare shoulder, playing with the edge of the strap. “And if you want to take things further, we can. Either way, we’ll have a fun night.”
A fun night. Part of me needs that, desperately, and part of me wants to be so much more to Gabriel. But the way he has my body purring like a kitten with just his thumb, I’m not saying no.
“Will this cause problems with the others?”
“Only if we let it.” And then he’s kissing me, slow and reassuring, and it feels so good, I don’t ever want him to stop.
Gabriel kisses like he sings, throwing his whole self into it. He reaches inside me and drags up my demons from their lockbox and dances with them under the stars. It’s in the dark places and the fae shadows that Gabriel Fallen rules with his crown of thorns. I groan as his lips part mine, so slow, so assuring. Our tongues touch, and I get my first taste of starlight, and I know I’ll never, ever have my fill.
I wind my arms around his neck and pull him closer, my body aching for more, more, more, as if I can somehow crawl inside his skin and wear that sexy ass of his. Which sounds totally crazy and serial killer-ish, but I’ve got Gabriel Fallen’s tongue in my mouth – coherent metaphors ain’t gonna happen.
His tongue-stud is this whole other sensation, and I can’t resist playing with it, holding it between my teeth and tugging on it lightly. Now it’s Gabriel’s turn to moan, his grip on me tightening, his body tense with need.
Gabriel breaks the kiss to trail his lips along my jaw. He nibbles on my earlobe, his fingertips stroking a tune along my neck. Who knew having someone touching your neck is so fucking hot? Gabriel presses his lips to the hollow of my throat. The coolness of his piercings hits the heat of my skin, and I’m a trembling mess. The urge to beg him for more, for something I don’t yet know, dances on my lips, but I resist. Even when she’s horny as fuck, Mackenzie Malloy doesn’t beg.
“Let me make you feel good.” Sometimes the shit Gabriel says is so cheesy, but with that British accent purring in my ear, I’m not going to complain. A tiny moan escapes my lips, and it’s all the signal Gabriel needs.
His fingers twine in my hair as he pulls me back to him, our lips meeting with a rush of fire. He lays me back against the sheets. His weight on mine feels so fucking perfect. I stare up into a blood-stained sky shot with glittering stars.
Gabriel’s hands are everywhere – touching my cheeks, cupping my chin, in my hair, skimming my hips the way he did back on the dance floor, leaving us both panting. My stomach aches with a hunger that isn’t for food, and I raise my hips to grind against him, my body desperate for more, more, more.
Gabriel chuckles darkly as he slides a hand underneath my red top, pushing the fabric over my skin. I raise my arms above my head as he drags it over my head.
“Fuck, Mac.” Gabriel shoves my bra up, not even bothering to undo it. “If I’d known you were hiding these, I’d have had you sooner.”
His mouth circles my nipple, and I gasp. It’s wet and hot and intense and magical, especially when his piercing rubs against the sensitive bud. Gabriel cups my other breast, rolling the nipple in his fingers as his stormy eyes watch me, drinking in my reaction.
It feels fucking amazing.
So amazing in fact, I’m not even aware that Gabriel’s pulled off my shorts until he trails kisses across my stomach, his fingers teasing the edges of my lace panties. He pulls down one edge of the lace and stops, his face tipping toward me, his eyes wide and that cocky grin frozen on his perfect lips. The barbell jerks up and down.
“What are you waiting for, Fallen?” I growl. “A written invitation?”
Gabriel tears the flimsy material away and dives between my legs. His tongue finds my clit, and he flicks his stud across it until I’m a writhing, blubbering mess. My hands claw at his shoulders as I come undone. He slips a finger inside me and moans against me. The heat that rises inside me could burn the world. Gabe strokes his finger inside me while he makes circles around my clit, that stud doing magical things as he gets faster and faster. The stars swim in my eyes and I’m gone, I’m fucking gone.
I’ve made myself come plenty of times. I lived completely alone for four years. If I didn’t have a vibrator, I’d have gone full psychopath by now. But it’s a completely different thing to come by your own hand in an empty room in an empty house while your cat bats impatiently at your face so you’ll get out of bed and feed her, and to tremble with pleasure in the arms of the world’s hottest rockstar while the heavens dance around you.
Gabriel pulls me against him, holding my body to his chest, his fingers stroking my face. He picks up my limp hand and examines my fingers. “Looks like you ruined your manicure digging your nails into my back.”
“Don’t look so fucking smug about it,” I manage to choke out. “I’m going to marry your tongue stud.”
