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He positions my arms so I’m stretched out with my fingers touching the edges. “Hold on, beautiful.”
Grabbing the cold granite for leverage, I brace myself, knowing when Gabriel takes me from behind it will be hard. Exactly how I want. His fingers play over my folds, gathering moisture and lubricating me. The broad head of his cock nudges at my opening. He’s already hard again. One hand is guiding his shaft, the other gripping my hip. Seeing that it’s been a while, he enters me slowly, as considerately as only Gabriel can be. After every inch he stops, giving me time to adjust while playing with my clit. By the time he’s fully lodged inside, we’re both panting. I don’t have to tell him I need more. He knows my body inside and out. He knows my needs better than I know them myself.
When he starts moving, it’s with the grueling pace I need to push me toward another climax. He slams into me, pivoting our groins together, and shifting my body up and down over the smooth surface. My need climbs high and fierce. When my inner muscles clench around him, he rolls my clit between his deft fingers, taking me over the edge. Coming around his cock, I scream out my pleasure.
He covers my body with his, putting his chest against my back. “Fuck, yes. You’re beautiful when you come.”
My reprieve only lasts a few seconds. Aftershocks from the orgasm are still rippling through me when he pulls out and flips me over.
“I want to look into your face.”
So do I. I want to see his eyes when he comes. There was a time he didn’t look at me when we had sex. It was the time he only fucked me from behind, hiding his scarred face and his true person, but I never wanted a different face or another soul. Only him.
He spreads my legs and bends my knees. His expression is tender as he rubs his palms up my inner thighs to the center between my legs. Parting my labia with his thumbs, it’s on my eyes he focuses when he pushes inside. I don’t hesitate to bare my heart. My feelings are etched on my face for him to read. For his eyes only. I show him my ecstasy as he fills me in the only way that makes me complete––with his body and soul. I show him my reverence as he starts pouring everything he has inside of me. Our desires, emotions, dreams, and essence intertwine as we move together. I take what he gives when his thrusts become more powerful, but I also give back in return. For every shove, I clench down on him, dragging him deeper and holding him tighter. My hands travel over his strong arms and his hard chest, tracing the familiar grooves. I adore every part of him, inside and out, and I’m falling harder than I imagined possible. The sensation is wild and vulnerable, beautiful and frightening in its intensity. I need his arms around me.
“Hold me,” I whisper.
He doesn’t hesitate. Without breaking his pace, he laces our fingers together and lifts my arms above my head. His chest presses against mine as he claims my lips in an incredibly soft and lingering kiss. I embrace my feelings, letting the love explode and grow inside of me until there’s nothing but him. He fills my senses. His kiss tells me what I want to know. He cares. He still cares for me and not just as a possession. I’m pinned under his strong body, a damaged being, but I’m here out of my own free will, and that makes me more than a broken toy. I’m more than a vendetta or a debt, and he’s more than The Breaker, because he kisses me like a husband. Right now, he’s only a man who loves a woman, and I’m the woman who loves him back. Falling in love––the giddy kind––after deep and eternal loving may be doing things in reverse, but Gabriel and I have never been the norm. Perhaps we weren’t meant to be the norm. We’re us, and I love us.
“Valentina.”
His whisper brings me back to him, to the sensation where our bodies are connected. It’s too much and too little. I can’t bear more, and I can’t stop. My fingers clench around his as a strangled cry of pleasure leaves my mouth.
“I’ve got you, beautiful.”
He does. He always has. He slows his pace a fraction and tilts his hips, changing the angle of his penetration. There. Oh, God. My lips part on a soundless gasp as he hits the right spot.
“Come with me.”
It’s a plea, not a command, and I obey it more eagerly than I obeyed any of his orders. My vision blurs as my body explodes. He’s right there with me, giving me his all. His back arches, and his hips jerk as he holds my gaze. His eyes are open and his soul exposed as he shows me what I do to him. Our connection is perfect. There are no thoughts about the past or the future in my head. What I feel is too intense to leave space for worries and fear. There’s only this moment. As his arms come around me to cushion my back and hold me close, I allow myself to fall apart, heal, and for the shattered pieces to come together. I weep in the crook of his neck, unabashedly, for the greatness of this gift, for having him again.
