Chapter 26 #3
“Vienna…” I whispered, though I wasn’t sure whether it was protest or invitation.
“Quickly,” he said quietly. Quietly enough to make every nerve ending in my body sit up and listen.
I swallowed.
He looked devastatingly composed for a man standing half-hidden on enemy territory in the middle of the night with sin written all over his face.
I hated how much I loved that.
“Go on,” he murmured. “Show me what had you so brave over the phone.”
Heat rushed through me all over again.
I should have laughed it off. I should have told him to fuck off. I should have remembered every reason why this was reckless, stupid, and likely to end with both of us dead if we were to get caught.
But I did none of those things.
Instead, I stepped backwards slowly, never taking my eyes off him. His hungry gaze followed me, attentive and unblinking.
I sat on the edge of the bed and let my knees part just slightly. I could feel the cool night air against my skin, rushing against where I was still so wet for him. I sucked in a sharp breath, and noticed his breathing had also changed almost instantly.
And then his face changed, becoming something feral, something that told me I still had the power to ruin him if I wanted to.
And maybe that made me cruel.
Maybe it made me selfish.
But after everything that had been taken from me, after years of having my body treated like something to endure rather than something to inhabit, there was something dangerously intoxicating about being looked at by Vienna and feeling wanted instead of used.
His voice dropped lower. “More.”
The word slid through me like silk. I obeyed before I could think too hard about what that said about me.
My knees parted wider, and I leant back, pulling my dress up as I did so.
His head tipped slightly, his eyes darkening further as he took me in.
“Good girl,” he murmured.
My entire body reacted. A flush swept from my throat to my chest to somewhere much lower, and I hated how quickly he noticed.
A smile ghosted at the corner of his mouth.
Catching his eyes, I slipped the straps off my shoulders and pushed my dress down my chest, revealing my bare tits to him.
“Fuck,” he breathed, scanning me from head to toe. “There you are.”
I bit my lip and looked away for half a second, suddenly far too aware of my own body, of the cool air on my skin, of the way my pulse had climbed into something frantic and breathless and entirely too revealing.
“Don’t hide from me now,” he said softly. “I want to see you, Gabby. I want your eyes on me as I devour your body.”
I looked back at him instantly, noticing his eyes flare with satisfaction.
He shifted further into the room, one hand braced lightly against the doorframe, his entire focus locked onto me with such devastating intensity that it became almost impossible to remember there was a world outside this room.
“Touch yourself,” he said. “Play with your pussy and make yourself cum. I want those fingers dripping.”
The words dropped into the room like a match.
The wine in my bloodstream had made me bold enough to start this, but now that he was here—really here, watching me with that expression, sounding like that, taking control so naturally I barely even thought to resist. Everything felt so natural. So dangerous. So fucking delicious.
And somehow, impossibly, that made it easier.
I let my hand drift slowly over my thigh again, higher this time, feeling his gaze follow every inch of the movement.
He didn’t rush me. He didn’t fill the silence for the sake of it. He was happy to simply watch, and wait, letting me follow his commands as and when I felt comfortable.
He made me feel every second. The waiting. The sweet, torturous wait until finally, finally, my fingers were there, and he smothered a moan, watching me.
My mouth parted as my fingers dipped between my pussy lips, seeking out my throbbing clit. A breath I couldn’t contain escaped with a moan, and my head tipped back as I circled my clit, spreading my legs further, opening myself wide for him.
“That’s it,” he said quietly. “Circle your clit, nice and slow. Show me what a good girl you can be.”
“Vienna…”
“You’re doing so good, baby.”
The praise hit me embarrassingly hard. My fingers picked up their speed, and a breathy laugh escaped me as my stomach flipped.
“Look at me,” he murmured. I forced my eyes open and locked eyes with him once more.
There was nothing casual in his face now.
Nothing playful.
Only hunger and control and the kind of desperate restraint that looked one wrong move away from snapping entirely.
“Push your fingers inside yourself,” he said, his hand stroking down the length of his cock.
With my eyes on his, I did exactly as he asked, sliding two fingers inside me with embarrassing ease. I was so aroused, so turned on, my fingers were slick with my wetness.
I slowly pumped them inside me, my breathing picking up, my chest heaving.
“Faster, baby,” he whispered, keeping his focus on the movement between my legs.
I followed his command, pumping my fingers inside me harder, my thumb circling my clit. I spread my legs wider, giving him the best view possible, and brought my other hand up to play with my nipples, squeezing them tight and pulling them into stiff peaks.
“Fuck, Gabby,” he breathed, the veins in his neck protruding from holding himself back. I knew he wanted to come in here. I knew he wanted to take over. But common sense, my safety, the fact that I was drunk, kept him a spectator.
The sight of it made me bolder.
Or stupider.
Possibly both.
I shifted higher up the bed, then slowly turned, moving onto my knees instead.
His breath caught, and a pained groan was ripped from his throat, sending a wicked little thrill through me.
I glanced back over my shoulder, just once, and whatever he saw in my expression made something in his own tighten instantly.
“Gabriella,” he said, warning threaded through the syllables. His hand jerked his cock harder, his other hand cupping his balls, his cock leaking pre-cum from the tip, making my mouth water.
Smiling to myself, I shuffled back across the mattress until I was close enough to the edge closest to the balcony door that I could feel the coolness of it at my back, every nerve ending in my body suddenly alive with the knowledge that he was right there.
Watching.
Wanting.
A low sound left his throat. A sound of raw male appreciation, and for one suspended moment, nothing else existed between us. It was just this moment. The here and the now. The only thing we were promised.
It should have been impossible to feel safe and dangerously close to the edge at the same time.
But that was what Vienna had always done to me.
Made the worst ideas feel like home.
“Keep touching yourself,” he demanded, and his tone let me know there was no room for negotiation.
Lowering my chest down to the bed, I pushed one hand underneath me and between my legs, rubbing furiously at my clit.
“Fuck, you’re so wet. Fuck your pussy for me, Gabby. Show me what I’ve been missing.”
With an anguished moan, I slid two fingers inside myself, biting down on the bedsheets as I did.
I made a big show of coating my fingers in my wetness, and then gliding them along the length of my pussy, making it glisten for him, and then pushed them back in.
“Another finger,” he demanded, and I dared to peek over my shoulder to see his fist pumping his cock as rapidly as I was fucking myself.
I pushed the third finger into my pussy, and groaned loudly, my hips bucking back to meet my thrusts.
“Oh, god,” I moaned, hearing how wet I was, hearing how slick I sounded.
“Harder,” he ground out. “Show me how much you’ve missed me. Show me how you’d like this cock to be fucking you.”
My nipples scraped along the bedsheets as I did what he demanded, and I could feel my thighs tensing up, my legs beginning to shake, and that pressure building in my stomach that let me know I was getting close.
And then I heard him move, his rapid footsteps crossing the room, and then his hand was on my wrist, his skin on mine.
Finally. After all these years.
But instead of helping me, his grip on my wrist tightened, preventing me from moving.
“I don’t think so,” he whispered, bending down low to whisper in my ear. “You think after all this time, I’m going to let you cum so easily? Not a chance.”
He pulled my hand to a stop, no longer allowing my fingers to continue sliding in and out of my pussy.
One hand pressed to my head, keeping me buried in the bedsheets, and I heard his laboured breathing.
Though I couldn’t see him, I could feel his eyes on me. I could feel them between my legs.
And then, as though he was scared to touch me, I felt his feather light touch, his fingers gliding over the globes of my ass.
“What are you doing to me?” he whispered. But before I had the chance to reply, he shoved my hand to the side, pushed my head harder into the sheets and then rammed two of his fingers inside me.
I screamed loudly, thanking my lucky stars that the pillows muffled the sound.
“If this is all I can have, you’ll be damned if you think I’m not getting a taste,” he told me, pulling his fingers out of me, dragging a groan of protest from deep in my chest.
And then I heard him sucking on his fingers, and my legs began shaking once more.
I rocked my hips back, silently encouraging him to continue, and felt his other hand press against the small of my back.
I knew what he was silently demanding, and had no hesitation in following.
I shuffled forward, almost bent in half on the bed, my knees touching my chin.
“Keep your head down,” he breathed, removing both his hands from my body. “I want your ass nice and high in the air like this.” He punctuated his words by slapping my ass hard, making me yelp with surprise.
And then I felt him there.
The head of his cock sliding against my pussy, gently pushing past my lips for the briefest of moments before pulling back to run along the length of me again.