Devotion (Central Cities #1)

Chapter 4

4

The next morning, my sixth day as Gabriel’s partner, I wake up bubbling with excitement.

I didn’t sleep very well the night before. Instead of letting my mind settle, I relived every moment of my session with Gabriel. Reviewed every small move, every breath, every flicker of expression on his face. I mentally reexperienced them throughout the night. Over and over again.

So while it wasn’t a bad night, it also wasn’t a restful one. And I’m as groggy as I am excited as I wash and dress while Gabriel is doing his morning swim.

I’ll have to be careful to not apply pressure. He might have been required to choose a partner and socially pushed into following the external palace conventions. But he can’t be forced or pressured in any way to accept sexual pleasure from me.

He has to want it.

But still… I really hope he wants it again.

Over the years, I’ve tried to imagine how it would feel to please a partner. I figured it might be a challenge. It might get tedious. Depending on the person, it might not always even be pleasant. But whatever it required of me would be a small sacrifice to gain a lifestyle and benefits for my entire family that I never would have been able to otherwise earn and to contribute to the larger purpose of the Central Cities through the only avenue open to me.

All this time, I’ve been prepping myself to approach this aspect of my job purely as work. Focus on performing to the best of my abilities and making my administrator as happy as I can. But I’ve never felt this level of satisfaction from any other task I’ve completed.

I honestly can’t wait to do it again.

I really hope he lets me.

He’s got another meeting this morning, but this one is confidential, so I’m not allowed to attend. I take my walk and then tidy up the room and fiddle around, giving myself multiple lectures on patience and rationality. He’s not going to get back from his meeting and immediately ask me to take care of him again. I might have known Gabriel for less than a week, but I know that much about him for sure. When he returns, he’ll start working again. And I’ll be lucky if several hours later he decides he needs me to help him relax and refocus like I did yesterday.

My realistic predictions are accurate. I’m pretending to read when he returns to the room, looking brisk and determined and slightly annoyed. He gives me about sixty seconds of attention, asking if I need anything and letting me know he’ll be working at his desk for the rest of the day.

And that’s exactly what he does.

Work.

For hour after hour.

By late afternoon, I’m forced to resign myself to the fact that he’s having no trouble focusing today.

Maybe he didn’t enjoy the way I pleased him as much as I hoped.

It’s not a big deal. He’s never truly understood my purpose, so he probably won’t make use of me for more than the occasional indulgence.

That’s still okay. He treats me well, and most people would love to have a position where they’re required to do almost no work.

I’d rather be needed and appreciated, but I can get used to this. We can fall into a comfortable routine.

My life might not be as satisfying and purposeful as I hoped, but it will still be good.

I’m knitting a shawl for my mother with pretty pink yarn I bought with Gabriel’s credits. Since my mind keeps spinning over my hopes and disappointments, reading and drawing are out of the question this afternoon. I try to keep my eyes focused on the garden outside the window instead of constantly staring at Gabriel, but I’m not entirely successful in that endeavor.

My gaze keeps straying toward him.

Maybe he feels me watching him. Or maybe my knitting needles make a soft sound that distracts him. He lifts his eyes from his notebook just then and meets mine across the short distance between the desk and my seat.

He doesn’t look annoyed or impatient in the way I can now recognize. He doesn’t look anything really. He stares at me for a minute.

I know I should be careful and discreet, but the words come out before I can stop myself. “Did you want to take a break today?”

He grows still. He doesn’t respond immediately. Then he says, “Uh, yeah. I guess I can.”

All my painfully cultivated realism and resignation burst into thrilled flutters at his casual words.

I put down my knitting and stand up, trying to move in a sultry, graceful way but almost stumbling in my excitement instead. “Ten minutes again today?”

He draws in a long inhale through his nose. “Yeah, ten or fifteen would be fine.”

Since he said fifteen minutes, that’s what I’m going with. The extra time will really help. After he pushes his chair out from his desk, I walk around to the back and start rubbing his shoulders the way I did yesterday. Today he immediately closes his eyes and lets out his breath like he’s intentionally trying to relax.

Pulsing with anticipation, I give him the best shoulder and neck massage I’m capable of, extending it for a full five minutes since I have the extra time. His muscles are still really tight. Full of knots. When I find that particularly sore spot at the back of his neck, he releases a very soft groan that makes me clench excitedly.

I unbutton the top buttons on my bodice the way I did yesterday before I move back around to the front of his chair. He opens his eyes as I lower myself to my knees in front of him.

The polished tile is hard on my knees and shins, but it’s not enough of a discomfort to distract me from what I’m doing. Gabriel parts his legs to make room for me. Then, as he watches, I lift myself up higher and reach over to undo his trousers and gently free his cock from his clothes.

He’s more than halfway erect today. Not all the way but harder than he was at this point yesterday. I decide this is a very good sign as I caress him with my fingers. My eyes move from his cock to his face before I lean over to take him in my mouth.

He gives a soft grunt as my lips wrap around him. One of his hands moves restlessly from the armrest, toward my head, and then back.

He grows fully erect quickly at my first few sucks. Then I establish a steady rhythm of suction and head-bobs. It’s obviously working on Gabriel. His body grows more and more tense, and his breathing gets louder and faster.

His hand does that weird little move again, coming off the armrest toward my head and then back, and I suddenly realize why. He wants to hold my head, but he isn’t sure he should.

The knowledge that he wants to, as well as his concern about overstepping, really does a number on my emotions. I make a humming sound around his thick cock as I try to process the wave of feeling.

His body jerks slightly. His eyes had been falling closed, but they open sharply at the sound I make. Gaze down at me fixedly.

I’ve been holding on to his thighs for leverage as I work, but now I let go and reach over to take his hand and move it to the back of my head.

He settles his fingers around the curve of my skull, just above the tight bun of my hair, and he applies slight pressure in time with the rhythm I’ve established.

My entire body is throbbing now. My skin is hot, and my breath rushes in and out of my nose. I hum again because I honestly can’t help it, and he makes a choked sound and pushes a little harder against my head.

I respond to that slightest of demands and take him deeper, working on softening my throat muscles so my gag reflex doesn’t trigger.

“Fuck,” he mutters on a taken breath. “Oh fuck!”

He’s about to come. I can feel it in the tension of his body, the shuddering of his cock, the helplessness of his exclamation. I slide my lips up the length of him and move my hand into position to squeeze as he lets out a long, soft moan and comes in several spurts on my face.

I leave the semen where it splatters so he can see it when he opens his eyes. His expression is palpably sated in a way that thrills me. He’s still catching his breath as I tuck him back into his clothes, and then I get up to rub his neck, shoulders, and head for the final three minutes.

When it’s been exactly fifteen minutes, I reluctantly drop my hands. I come back around so I can look at him.

He’s flushed. Visibly relaxed. He murmurs thickly, “Thank you, Jess.”

“You’re welcome. I enjoyed it.”

“Did you?” He might be relishing the aftermath of an orgasm, but his mind will always be sharp. His eyes search my face with a glimmer of his deep intelligence, softened only partly by his physical release.

“Yes,” I tell him honestly. “I really did.”

“Can I do something for you in return?”

It takes me a moment to realize what he’s asking. Then I gasp and stiffen. “No! I told you yesterday. I don’t want that.”

He watches me without speaking.

“I’m sorry to be sharp,” I add quickly. “I know you’re not used to how things are here. But it’s actually an insult to ask me that. I don’t please you with the expectation of getting anything for myself.”

He appears to believe me. “Okay. I think I understand, and I won’t ask you again. Thank you for doing that for me. I’ve got to get back to work now.”

I nod, smiling at him again as I go to the bathroom to clean up, pee, and try to cool down. I’m way too excited, and it’s ridiculous.

I’m doing my job. I’m happy that he’s finally letting me, but that’s all it is.

Hopefully this means he’ll keep letting me do it.

For the next month, Gabriel lets me give him a fifteen-minute break every afternoon. A brief massage and a blow job. It’s not much in the scheme of things, but it’s as consistent as clockwork. Not always at the exact same time, but he never goes an afternoon without asking for it except for on my one monthly free day.

I still think I could do more for him, but at least he’s letting me do this. And I honestly do believe I’m helping him. He’s always a lot more relaxed and focused after I take care of him.

This is a good life for me. I have safety, comfortable surroundings, pretty clothes, every modern convenience, and a leisurely schedule. But Gabriel’s daily break is still the best part of my days. I wait for it breathlessly every afternoon.

I also enjoy attending the public meetings with him. I hear a lot about the ins and outs of running the Central Cities, and I’ve gotten a pretty clear sense of the president and most of the other administrators at the palace. There’s a lot of politicking going on, but Gabriel intentionally stays out of most of it. He only socializes when he has to, and I’ve heard him avoid getting drawn into schemes and agendas multiple times.

He’s not here to gain power or move up the political ladder. He’s here to do a job.

I like that about him, and I hope it won’t end up backfiring in the boiling pot of palace politics.

My future is now inextricably tied to Gabriel’s, so naturally I want him to succeed.

On a Saturday, my thirty-eighth day as Gabriel’s partner, I walk down to the shops just outside the palace complex so I can buy a few things for my family this evening with the credits Gabriel gave me. I’ve filled a basket with fruit and sweets plus a couple of bottles of fruit wine. I saved some extra Saturday credits from the past few weeks, so I’m also able to purchase a book for my father, fancy yarn for my mother, pipe tobacco for my grandfather, and a hair clip for my younger sister Carrie.

I’m happy and pleased with both Gabriel and myself as I wait to pay. A little girl in front of me with her mother is staring at me in wide-eyed awe—it’s probably clear from my hair and outfit that I’m a partner at the palace—so I smile at her, making her giggle and hide her face.

When the girl’s mother sees me, she insists that I go ahead of her in line. It’s hard to get used to this kind of respect and admiration, but she’d be offended if I refused. I thank her, and after my purchases have been added up, I use the remaining partial credit to buy the little girl a piece of jellied candy that clearly makes her entire day.

I’m leaving when I run into Kyra and another partner on the road. They’ve also been shopping and are on their way back to the palace, so I walk with them.

I like both of them, and it’s evident from their friendly gossip that their partners are much more enthusiastic about their services than Gabriel is. Kyra is laughingly complaining that she was up most of the night pleasuring the woman she’s paired with, who was so loud in her ecstasy that the guards came to check on them, and Verity says that her administrator, the Master of Roads, gets bad-tempered if he doesn’t get serviced at least three times a day.

I respond in a friendly, laughing manner, but I don’t volunteer any information about Gabriel’s habits.

It’s not that I’m embarrassed about him. I’m a little embarrassed about me . I’m clearly not appealing enough to tempt Gabriel to more than one fifteen-minute break a day.

I know I shouldn’t take it personally. Gabriel told me it wasn’t personal. He simply isn’t in sync with this part of palace culture. But still…

It would be nice if he enjoyed me enough to want at least a little bit more.

I shake off the insecurity by the time I return to our room. Gabriel has been working since his morning swim, and because he doesn’t have any meetings this morning, he’ll likely work all the way to bedtime.

There’s no reason for me to be discontent about my situation. It’s better than most women dream of in this world. He’s generous and treats me well even if he doesn’t value what I can do for him. Things could be so much worse, and it’s not right for me to be mentally wishing he were different than he is.

I’m his partner, and I need to trust him. He told me he’s solely focused on work and that there’s nothing wrong with me or the way I do my job. There’s plenty to like about him, so I’m going to set my mind on that and not on anything that might be lacking.

He glances up when I come in and asks if I got anything good for my family, so I show him my purchases and he approves. He thumbs through the book I bought my father and looks at me questioningly. “I thought you said your family was labor class.”

“They are.”

“Your father can read well enough for this book?”

“Yes. He’s really good at reading and writing. His mom taught him. She said it didn’t matter whether he’d ever need it in a job. He still should know how. He’s the one who taught Carrie and me. My sister.”

Gabriel nods as if he’s interested, but he doesn’t say anything else. And by the time I’ve put my gifts up and returned to my window seat, he’s deep into his papers again.

I read a new book I got from the palace library for a couple of hours until I realize that Gabriel has straightened up and is looking at me.

I put down my book, and my heart gives a silly jump when he makes a summoning gesture with his hand.

Rising to my feet, I’m unbuttoning my bodice as I come toward him. He’s scooted the chair away and turned it to line up with the small rug we added by the desk to cushion my knees.

He leans forward so I can massage his upper back as well as his shoulders, gradually moving my hands up until I’m pressing into the tense spots on his head. He’s still incredibly quiet as I work on him—the only signs of pleasure and relaxation are the long, raspy breaths he takes and the slow softening of his muscles. I spend almost a minute on that tender place at the base of his skull, digging my knuckles into it until he finally lets loose and groans.

I love when he groans like that. Thick and lingering and carnal. It might be soft, but it’s also helpless. Like there’s no way he can hold it back.

It’s only then that I move around to the front of his chair. He parts his legs as I kneel on the thick rug, rubbing his chest for just a minute before I slide my hands down to the buttons on his trousers.

He’s almost fully erect by the time I draw out his cock.

He’s not always. Sometimes he’s so stressed and distracted that it takes longer to get him all the way hard. But I’ve always been able to do it.

Today it’s obviously not an issue. I run a finger along the tip of his shaft to wipe away the drop of moisture there. Then I lower my head and take him in my mouth.

He holds my head in both hands, letting out textured sighs as I hollow out my cheeks and begin to suck. He fills my mouth. He smells warm and natural and familiar. His back arches slightly as I suck a little harder. His hands get more entitled, guiding my head with the rhythm he wants.

I love it. Love how he doesn’t question this anymore. That he knows it’s his—I’m his—whenever he wants.

One of his hands slides down to curve around the back of my neck. Then he groans again and leans back in his chair.

I’m throbbing all over, the way I always do when I get to please him this way. I’m acutely attuned to every detail and nuance of his body, so I notice immediately when something changes.

Slanting my eyes up toward his face, I see he’s closed his eyes, his face turned away from me. He’s still holding my head in place at his groin and guiding its speed and motion, but it feels like he’s drifting.

Sometimes he’s so stressed about his work that he has trouble focusing on reaching climax, but that’s not what this feels like. It’s more like he’s lost in vague sensations.

Maybe it shouldn’t matter, but I want him to be focused on me . So I moan around his cock. That always gets his attention.

His eyes open, angle down at me. Watch me sucking him intimately. “Oh fuck,” he breathes out. “Faster. Do it faster.”

I speed up my rhythm as his hands get tighter on my head. I love when he gives me instructions—that he knows he’s allowed—so a deep wave of heated pleasure washes over me.

“That’s right.” He shifts slightly in his chair like he can’t quite keep his hips still. “Now you’ve got it good.”

My jaw muscles are getting sore, but I’m barely aware of the discomfort in another wave of pleasure from the small compliment.

He directs my head more urgently. I take him deeper because I know that’s what he needs. He chokes on the word “Fuck!” as his body starts to shake.

I barely get my mouth off him before he’s coming with a series of guttural sounds and jerks of his hips. I manage to get my hand around the base of his cock so I can squeeze him through the spurts of his release.

His semen ends up on my chin, my cheek, my chest. I’m still squeezing gently when he’s finally finished since I’m not quite ready to let him go.

He’s slouched in his desk chair, flushed and visibly sated. He’s still holding my head.

When I meet his eyes, I smile at him. I’m hot all over and a little achy between my legs.

“Thank you, Jess,” he murmurs hoarsely, giving my hair a brief caress with one hand. “That was really good today.”

“You’re welcome,” I tell him, trying to hide how pleased and happy I am because he might find my reaction silly. “I’m glad it was good.”

I tuck him back into his underwear and button up his trousers before I get up. We used the entire fifteen minutes—it’s actually been sixteen—so I don’t rub his shoulders again the way I sometimes do. I head for the bathroom as he moves his chair back into position at his desk.

I’m still hot and jittery after I’ve cleaned up and used the bathroom, but Gabriel’s break is over and he’s back to working intently. So I settle in my window nook and try to focus on my book until it’s time to go visit my family.