Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
When Gabriel took her to his chambers, Sibyl was more than ready.
If anything, she had been ready for days, weeks, needing him, craving him. Every time she had felt his erection against her or claimed he would take care of himself later, she was ready.
And finally, she felt safe.
“Tell me,” Gabriel murmured as he guided her down onto his bedsheets. “Tell me how ready you are.”
“I am safe,” she told him. “I feel safer, more wanted, than I ever had.”
“Heavens, Sibyl.” He gave a throaty laugh. “You cannot say that and expect me to keep my wits about me.”
“What if I do not want you to keep your wits about you?” she challenged, because she was so ready. She was so damned ready.
“Sibyl—”
“Do not second-guess me,” she said gently. “Just… take me at my word. I am ready, and I want you. I want you so much that…”
“That?” he prompted.
“That… I think I might perish if I do not have you immediately.”
“You may have me,” Gabriel promised, kissing down her neck, her arousal flaring at that mere affection. “You may have me for as long and as much as you need.”
“And I do need,” she confessed. “I need you—I need you desperately.”
“Say my name.”
It was both a question and a demand.
“Gabriel,” she breathed.
“Again.”
“Gabriel.”
“Tell me what you need.”
Sibyl struggled to find the right words. “I need you—I need you… in—inside me.”
“Tell me again.”
“Heavens, you will be the death of me, husband.”
“And yet I will make sure that you want me.” He smirked down at her.
Sibyl was so lost in those beautiful, captivating eyes of his that she wanted to ask, Do you know how much your eyes ensnare me?
“I want you,” she declared with such conviction. “I want you so much that I dream of our coupling. I want you so much that I wake up aching when you are not there. I want you, Gabriel.”
Gabriel muttered a filthy curse, one that would have made her blush under different circumstances. But for now, she just pulled him closer. Closer and closer until her hand found the fly of his breeches, and closer until his found the laces at the back of her dress.
Bit by bit, their clothes came off, gently, until they were flush against one another, bare and exposed, both of them vulnerable.
Sibyl’s breath caught as her eyes roamed over him—from his wide, muscular shoulders to his thick thighs and what was between them. The very thing she had been craving but waiting to be fully ready for.
Her hand reached for him, just like she had done the first time in her chambers. But this time, he did not stop her. He let her fingers wrap around his thick manhood.
He inhaled sharply at that first contact, and even that slight noise had her aching. She started moving her hand up and down, feeling the smooth skin.
“You are… big,” she said, her voice thick with desire.
Gabriel pressed his lips to her neck. “Too big?”
“I am well prepared.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Keep moving your hand like that.”
She did, and his own hand slipped between her legs, spreading her open with his fingers, the two of them preparing one another.
It felt sacred. It felt like the biggest act of intimacy, in a way.
I want you, so I will prepare you.
“Sibyl.” Gabriel’s voice was tight. “Sibyl, you are—Heavens, you are beautiful.”
His eyes roved over her body, and she realized that he had never seen her fully bare. He had pleasured her many a time now with his tongue or fingers, but in all those instances, she had never been naked.
As his hand stroked her sex, his other hand caressed her body.
“These…” he murmured, cupping her breasts. “I wish to lie on them day and night. I wish to lick them until you ache further. I wish to kiss up the valley between them, finding my way right back to your mouth. Your body was envisioned by Aphrodite herself, and you have been gifted to me.”
Sibyl gave a soft moan, both at the way he curled his fingers inside her and at his words.
“Gabriel,” she whispered, but he was already enacting his wish.
His tongue flattened over one nipple, while his hand kneaded the other breast, and Sibyl struggled to stay focused on pumping his length.
She arched against him, not knowing where to seek her pleasure—her breasts or between her legs. But Gabriel’s attentiveness made sure that she did not have to.
He kissed his way down her breasts, paying particular attention to her stomach, her waist, her hips.
She had grown curvier after having Rosie and had worried it would make her less desirable, but Gabriel’s length twitched in her hand as he kissed over the softness of her stomach, the dip of her waist.
“You are so perfect that I cannot restrain myself,” he muttered against her hips. He had moved further down such that she had to release him.
“And do not try to tell me that you are not,” he warned, meeting her gaze.
His eyes were heavy and hooded with lust, and Sibyl trusted that look more than his words, more than her doubts, more than her insecurities and fears.
“I will not,” she breathed. “I trust you, Gabriel.”
Gabriel chuckled against her thigh, his teeth grazing her skin. “I have been waiting for that trust.”
“I said it before.”
“I know.” He smiled into another kiss on her other thigh. “But I enjoy hearing it, for you were determined not to trust me at the start. Rightfully so, I suppose.”
“And yet here we are,” she sighed happily, sliding her fingers through his unruly hair.
“Here we are.”
He pushed up to kiss her, and she wrapped her legs around his hips as if her body naturally knew how to hold onto him. Her fingers stroked through his hair as he kissed her breathless, the tip of his length sliding between her legs.
“Sibyl.” He murmured against her lower lip. “Tell me one last time that you want this. That you are ready.”
“I have never been more ready,” she told him, tugging on his hair. “I need you so much, Gabriel, that I fear I will do something foolish if I do not have you insid—”
Her words broke into a breathless giggle as he finally slipped inside her. As soon as he breached her, she was gone, lost to the fullness, her hips lifting as if to draw him in further.
She had experienced a quick coupling once, but even that had not been like this. That time had been hurried, clinical, and Sibyl had barely taken a breath before it was over.
This was different.
Gabriel held her gaze as he slid deeper into her, inch by inch, watching her face for any signs of discomfort. And there was an ache, an acute awareness of being penetrated, but the pleasure eventually overtook it.
“Is this all right?” Gabriel asked, his voice tight with restraint.
“It is—it is heaven,” she breathed, laughing at her own silly desire.
“You are heaven, my dear Sibyl.” Gabriel cupped her face in one hand while bracing the other above her head.
He kissed her over and over, as if he were trying to steal her breath. He kissed her when he was finally seated to the hilt, and she could only inhale in little gasps through it.
“If it is too much…”
“It is too much.” Sibyl giggled. “You are entirely too much. How could one man have so much power?”
He frowned, but she was only teasing him.
“It is too much because my husband is well-endowed and I can feel him everywhere.” She caressed his face and kissed the tip of his nose. “You may move, Gabriel. Take me, for I am yours to take. I have been from the moment I met you.”
“Sibyl,” he groaned, kissing her shoulder. Inside her, his length twitched. “You—you disarm me, do you know that?”
“Then perhaps you should disarm me too,” she whispered.
And then his hips were moving, pulling out of her before pushing back in, rocking steadily.
Sibyl’s back arched, her entire body shuddering and coming apart at the seams with pleasure. Her thoughts scattered, letting her float in desire, only grounded by Gabriel’s thrusts.
“Gabriel,” she moaned when he hit a deeper spot as she shifted her legs slightly. “Gabriel.”
He smiled down at her, pausing to take her hand and intertwine their fingers. He pressed a kiss to her knuckles.
“When you are close,” he murmured into her ear, “do tell me. I want us to climax together for the first time. My wife deserves the attention, and I will have you climaxing a thousand times before I ever think selfishly about my own release, but there is something intimate about doing it together.”
“I agree,” she gasped, and he quickened his pace. “Ga-Gabriel, you… you are speeding up.”
“Is it bad?” he asked.
She shook her head vehemently.
“I just… Sibyl, I am desperate for you. I cannot keep the pace slow and steady unless it is something I really want. But your body entices me, your voice stirs me, and your entire being makes every part of me come alive. I cannot fight the desperate need I have for you.”
The worship, the devotion he rained upon her, pushed her closer to her release. Her moans turned breathier as her hips rocked sharply against his, as her fingers tightened around his.
She was lost to pleasure, and she never wanted to feel any other way.
“I am close,” she warned. “It is—it is building inside me, and I feel like… like I am going to burst.”
“Then do so, Duchess.” Gabriel pressed a hard kiss to her neck. “Fall apart, and do it as messily and as loudly as you need. We do not have to worry about anything.”
Sibyl quietened the voice that worried the servants would gossip about them, but the need to climax was greater.
Soon, the two of them were rocking against one another frantically, gasping and moaning, tugging at one another, grasping wherever they could. It was uncoordinated yet sensual.
It was everything Sibyl had wanted, and she flew into her release right as Gabriel did.
They clung to each other, both shaking and moaning. In that moment, Sibyl had never felt closer to him. So much so that even when her body stopped trembling, she didn’t let go, and he didn’t pull away either.
“Gabriel.” Her voice was a mere whisper in the aftermath of their coupling.
“Sibyl.”
Words hung on the tip of her tongue: I love you. I am in love with you. You have saved me in more ways than you know. You have brought me back to life. I was a ghost, Gabriel, and you have breathed life back into me.
In the end, she only murmured, “Will you hold me for a while?”
And Gabriel did.
They fell asleep like that, naked and joined, tangled together on the bedsheets.