Chapter 19 #2
I kissed her mouth, silencing the ragged gasp of my name with a deep, claiming possession. Her chest heaved against mine as I held her there, savoring the feel of her body beneath me. I pulled back just enough to catch the dazed look in her eyes.
“Absolutely incredible.” There was no other sight like her—not on this earth.
She blinked up at me, lips parting around a breathless laugh. “I think…” She swallowed hard. “I think we’ve earned that shower now.”
“I think we have.” I brushed sweat-damp strands of hair from her forehead. “Or anything else you want from me,” I added, tracing her cheekbone with my thumb.
“What about you?” she asked, still breathless. “I feel a little selfish this morning.”
“Nonsense.” I kissed her again, tasting sweat and sweetness and Gabrielle. “Making you come like that gives me more pleasure than you’ll ever know.”
A real laugh escaped her lips—pure joy. I let it echo in my mind as I reached into the nightstand, holding up a condom for her to see. She groaned in exasperated delight.
“Oh God,” she said, laughing again as she batted at my chest. “You really are insatiable.”
I stood and helped her off the bed, her warm skin pressing to mine as she linked her arms behind my neck. When I lifted her, she wrapped her legs around my waist, tangling herself against me once more. She was everything—warm, wild, and mine.
We stumbled into the en suite, a tangle of limbs and heat and breathless want, not bothering with the lights. I managed to turn on the water one-handed, still holding her, still kissing her.
She laughed against my lips, that glorious sound echoing off the tiles. “You’re going to have to put me down eventually, you know.”
“If you insist,” I murmured, kissing her again before setting her down to wait for the water to warm. I nipped at the curve of her neck as it heated up. “But only so I can get you into my shower without falling on my arse.”
Her laughter turned to a soft sigh as I trailed kisses along her collarbone.
Steam billowed over the glass as I pulled away and took her hand.
I led her into the walk-in shower and pulled the glass door closed.
The heat cocooned us, wrapping tight around my senses.
I set the condom on the tray beside the shampoo and body wash.
She tilted her head into the spray, water sluicing down her luminous skin that caught what little light spilled in from the bedroom. Her hair ran dark down her back like a sheet, and I was breathless—struck by how fucking beautiful she looked.
I lathered shampoo in my hands and worked it into her hair, the silken strands slipping between my fingers.
“Oh,” she said, surprised, leaning into my touch. “You weren’t kidding.”
“Not in the least.” I massaged her scalp in slow circles, savoring each sigh.
“That feels…” She paused, voice languid. “Nice. Really nice.”
I smiled at the abandon in her voice.
I detached the shower head and rinsed the lather from her hair, careful not to let any get in her eyes. “If you think that’s nice,” I said, replacing the shower head, “wait until my hands are scrubbing every inch of you clean.”
I worked body wash into my palms and slid them over her shoulders, down her arms, then back up. The soap foamed slick between us as I kept my promise, lathering every curve—every supple inch. I lingered on her breasts, watching her expression melt into bliss.
“You spoil me,” she breathed, eyes half-lidded, drunk on the sensation.
“That’s the idea.” My voice rumbled off the tiles.
She took the body wash and returned the favor, sliding suds over my chest and shoulders, down my arms and back in slow, decadent strokes.
Her skin against mine was electric—a live current that lit up every nerve.
When she trailed her hand down my abdomen, I drew in a sharp breath.
The slide of her palm was slow and deliberate, each stroke languid and exquisite as she took hold of me.
“God, Gabrielle,” I groaned, letting my head fall back against the tiles.
Steam swirled around us as the water rinsed the last traces of soap from our skin.
Her touch was sumptuous—silken and sure—sending heat spiraling through every inch of me, scattering thought into light.
When I opened my eyes, she was watching me—a wicked smile curling her lips—as she stroked me with the most maddeningly perfect grip.
My fingers splayed against the wall, the world narrowing to this moment, this feeling, this woman who unraveled me with nothing but her hand and that look in her eyes.
Water pounded around us, mingling with my ragged breath as I moved into her hand, caught in the delicious cadence of her strokes. She brought me to the edge and held me there—tension coiling tight—until my body thrummed with raw electric need.
Her voice cut through the haze—a hushed whisper, sultry and sure. “I want you inside me.”
I grabbed the condom with a groan, tore it open, and rolled it on. “Music to my ears,” I said, hiking her leg onto the built-in shower bench and teasing her until she was slick and ready. “Say it again.”
“I want you inside me,” she repeated, breath catching as I circled her clit.
“Again,” I said, watching her shudder from nothing but my hand and will.
She took hold of me, eyes blazing, and guided me exactly where she wanted. “I’ll say anything you want if it gets you inside me.”
I thrust in, smooth and deep. She squeezed me like a vise—tight, slick, and ready for everything I had. I gripped her hips and drove in harder, faster, losing myself in the rhythm that consumed us. She arched against the tiles, meeting every thrust—a perfect counterpoint to my own urgency.
“Is this what you wanted?” My voice came out rough as she pulled me in deeper.
“More,” she moaned, nails biting into my shoulders.
Steam swirled as we moved together, slick and seamless, an impossible cadence of thrusts and replies. I was drowning in the feel of her skin against mine, of her heat enveloping me with every push.
“You feel…” She exhaled sharply. “So damned good.”
“Then let me make you feel even better.” I pulled out, spun her around, and pressed her down onto the bench.
She caught herself with her palms, wet hair a cascade of gold.
Hands locked firm at her waist, I thrust in from behind in one swift motion, the angle sharp and exquisite.
Her yelp was pure delight, the sound careening off the tiles and straight into my blood.
I drove into her with raw power—nothing held back, nothing left to contain me but my own will.
She braced for each thrust as water poured over us in dizzying torrents. “Oh God,” she cried, voice breaking with the force of it.
“Like that?” I managed—more of a growl than an actual question.
“Yes,” she gasped. “Just—like—that.”
I gave her everything—every ounce of want and hunger—until she tightened around me in rippling waves of release.
Her body tensed as she came, and she cried out, voice shattering against the tiles.
A few more strokes, and heat coiled low inside me.
I came hard and heavy—breathless, weightless, untethered.
After a few steadying breaths, I pulled out and drew Gabrielle to me, cradling her against my chest as the water streamed across our skin. Her hair clung to her face in wet tendrils as I kissed her, tasting triumph on her lips.
“God, you’re incredible,” I murmured, letting each word fall like a benediction.
She nestled closer, a satisfied hum vibrating against my skin. “Says the man who—”
I kissed her before she could finish, stealing her surprise with my mouth.
Her laugh was breathless when I pulled back. “Is that how you plan to win every argument?”
“One tool of many,” I said, kissing her again—slow, unhurried. I savored the way her body curved into mine, soft and replete beneath my touch.
“Not fair,” she chided, though her eyes said otherwise—wide, warm, unguarded. I kissed her neck, then her shoulder, brushing wet hair from her face. Her skin was smooth and fragile under my touch, like porcelain warmed by fire.
We stayed there an impossibly long time, wrapped in steam and each other, as I murmured praise against her ear and savored every blissful sigh she gave in return.
The sun had climbed higher by the time we stepped out of the shower, towels slung loosely around us.
My skin was still damp where Gabrielle’s fingers had traced patterns through the steam.
She took a light blue button-down from the wardrobe and slipped into it with that easy grace that made it look better on her than it ever had on me.
She caught me watching her. “Going to stand there all morning?”
“Yes,” I said, earning another smile.
In the kitchen, I busied myself with the French press while Gabrielle perched on a counter stool. Her wet hair, darkened to honey gold, dripped onto her shoulders, leaving dark splotches on the blue shirt.
“Any plans today?” she asked.
“Have I got your Saturday too?”
“Oh, you can have just about anything you want.” She glanced down sheepishly at the countertop, suppressing a smile. “I hope that didn’t come across as desperate.”
I took the adjacent stool as the coffee darkened in the French press. “On the contrary,” I said, brushing a kiss against her temple. “It came across as charming.” I pulled back to look at her. “I don’t want to monopolize your time.” It was meant to sound light, casual. It came out…not quite.
She met my gaze. “Same here.” We were quiet for a beat before she continued. “Do you have work you need to do?”
“Just a few updates for Monday’s classes. Nothing that’ll take more than an hour. What about you?”
“Finishing a calculus problem set,” she said, grimacing. “And…homework for your class.”
I couldn’t help the smirk. I checked my watch and stood, pausing behind her to brush her hair aside and kiss the delicate spot behind her ear.
“Which isn’t due until Wednesday,” I murmured against her skin.
Her exhale was soft but amused. “Blurring the lines between church and state, Dr. Hawthorne?”
My honorific had never sounded sexy before. I kissed her again, slower this time. “You started it.”
I crossed to the opposite counter and poured our coffee.
“How do you take it?” I asked, already assuming the answer. “Milk and sugar? Cream and three packets of something unholy?”
“Nope,” she said, stretching her arms over her head. “Black.”
I glanced over my shoulder. “You drink tea—correction, potpourri in a cup—with half a sugar bowl. But coffee, you take black?”
I handed her the mug. She took it with both hands, eyes slipping blissfully closed as she inhaled the steam. And then she glanced at me—eyes coy over the rim of the mug, lips just barely curved into a lazy, wicked smile.
“You’re catching on.”
Heat stirred low in my spine again. She hadn’t even touched me, and already I wanted to drag her back to bed.