6. Gabriel
6
GAbrIEL
T his is, without question, the best night of my life.
Something about Kayla is bringing out every bit of me, as though she’s ready to take whatever I want to give her and then some. There’s no pretense, only straightforward interest, and it’s got me primed to do anything she wants—including standing in this ridiculous get-up in front of her.
But look at her. I’ve literally only seen her upper half and it’s covered by a sweatshirt, but my god. Dark red hair cascades around her, and she’s all curves and softness and mystery. I don’t know why she was up here all night, but I swear I’m half in love with her.
“If I do this, if I dance for you, you have to promise to forget it ever happened as soon as I’m done,” I warn.
She holds a hand over her heart. “Promise.” She’s shifted to sitting cross-legged in the bed, and I’m fairly certain she’s wearing nothing but panties. The sweatshirt she’s got on has done exactly nothing to hide the generous curves beneath, and I’d give anything to take them for a ride and feel the silky skin under my palm.
“Can’t believe I’m doing this,” I mutter, leaning over to pull my phone out of the duffel I’d brought in here. As I straighten, I realize the fucking hat is still on my head. I snatch it off.
She follows the Santa hat to the floor, then swings that beautiful aqua blue gaze back to me. “Did you have something against the Santa hat?”
I don’t answer. Because of course I have something against the Santa hat.
Eyes shimmering, Kayla prompts, “So, are you dancing for me?”
I press Play on a list on my phone, and instantly her face breaks into a smile.
“I’m sorry,” she laughs. “Are you playing Jingle Bells ?”
I start wiggling my hips. This woman undoes me, twisting me into beast mode and funny mode and back again in a matter of moments. I’m spinning, and I’m taking her with me. “Comedy is the way to go, Kayla, I promise.”
She laughs even harder, red hair spilling over her shoulders. “How about we change the words? Instead of jingle all the way , we go with naughty all the way. ”
I swivel my hips, hoping it doesn’t look nearly as horrifying as it surely did downstairs. “I like the way you think.”
“You know what else I think?” She grins saucily and slides her hand beneath the pillow and produces her phone. “I think I need to record this.”
“Oh no you don’t,” I say, lunging for the cell and losing my balance. I fall right on top of her, and immediately forget all about the dance and the music as I come face to face with her, our lips inches apart.
“This worked out better than I expected,” Kayla says.
She’s even more stunning up close. Her blue eyes are ringed with navy and shot through with specks of yellow, and the lightest of freckles are scattered across her nose and cheeks. The confident set of her lips and the amusement in her expression tells me she’s more than happy to take the kiss I’d like to give her.
“Yeah?” I whisper, leaning even closer.
She threads a hand through my hair and then cups my cheek. “How old are you?”
I squint at her. “ That’s the question you want to ask right now?”
She hums, her eyes searching mine. “I have others. But answer this one anyway.”
“Twenty-five.”
She groans and squeezes her eyes shut.
“Is that the wrong answer, Kayla?” I ask as my cock springs to life. Brushing a strand of hair off her forehead, I continue. “Because I’m trying hard to see why it matters. There’s a snowstorm outside, and we’re stuck inside. Together. All. Night. Long.” I lean closer, inhaling her deliciously spicy scent. It’s warm, but there’s a bite to it. I suspect that’s precisely how Kayla is, too. I put my lips next to her ear and say softly, “Besides. What happens if the power goes out? We need to remain warm, right?” I kiss the shell of her ear, then the delicate skin right beneath the lobe.
She shivers beneath me. “Body heat, right?”
I continue to kiss her neck. “Exactly.”
“I think you’re right,” she murmurs. “But you should know.”
I press my lips to her jaw. “Know what?”
“I’m thirty-eight.”
Now I kiss her chin. “Don’t care.” And I don’t.
“No?”
I move to her other ear. “I have an idea.”
“Oh yeah?”
I rise up onto my elbows and stare down at her. “I think you should let me eat your pussy. And when I’m down there, licking you, you can tell me if I’m doing it right.”
Her eyes flare. “That’s…quite an offer.”
“Say yes.”
“I might need more dancing,” she says.
But I shake my head. “No,” I say darkly. She’s going to drive me wild. The scent of her already has me rock hard. “No more playtime. You don’t need more dancing.” I reach a hand to the hem of the sweatshirt and tilt my hips against her. Even through the comforter, she’s guaranteed to feel my cock. “You need my mouth on your pussy.”
In answer, she pulls my lips to hers. They’re soft and warm, and after a moment, I press my thumb against her chin, pulling it down so I can sink into her. We both moan as our tongues meet, slick and wet, and she surges against me.
I push my hand under her sweatshirt, relishing the silky feel of her skin beneath my fingers. Whatever spell she has me under, I’ll gladly stay here all night.
She shifts, breaking the kiss to meet my eyes. “Take my clothes off,” she says, her lips already dark pink and flushed from the kisses.
“Gladly.” I stand up, tired of the awkward angle we’d been in, and yank the covers down. She’s wearing dark green lacy panties, and my mouth waters at the sight of her creamy legs against the white of the bedsheets. “Can’t wait to have those around my ears,” I growl, grabbing her ankles and straightening her length-wise on the bed. Then I straddle her thighs and grab her hands to pull her up against me.
It’s easy to read the desire in her eyes, and something else, too. The need to be dominated, perhaps. I’m happy to oblige.
Without a word, I yank her sweatshirt off and toss it away, and my head empties. She’s wearing a matching green bra, and it’s holding up breasts that are way more than two handfuls. I trace the scalloped edges at the top as her chest heaves, then brush my thumbs over her nipples. I meet her eyes again, and lean for another kiss, still caressing her breasts.
“Tell me what you want,” I murmur against her mouth.
“Rough,” comes the answer. “Like you fucking mean it.”
“Perfect,” I say, palming her breasts and squeezing harder than necessary.
She inhales sharply and curses. “Just like that,” she breathes out.
I pull the lace away from one breast and wrap my greedy mouth around her nipple, sucking and caressing as I reach behind to unhook the bra. She moans in relief as I pull it off, her breasts hanging heavy and low and absolutely fucking delicious. I grab them both in my hands and squeeze, licking and kissing my way from one to the other and taking the nipple into my mouth, pulling in hard.
“Yes,” she moans, drawing the word out and sending a bolt of possession through me.
“Mine,” I say against her skin. “Tonight, you are mine.” I guide her down to the mattress and make my way down her soft stomach, then rise up to kneeling. I lift her leg, kissing her calf as I rest the ankle on my shoulder. She’s relaxed, her hair fanned out on the pillows like a sunset, and as I meet her gaze, she licks her lips and grins.
I trail a hand down the inside of her leg and brush my fingers against her center. She heaves a deep breath, and I stroke the silk of her panties slowly, feeling the heat of her against my hand. I kiss her ankle, then nip it, trailing a line of kisses up her calf, to the side of her knee, and then up her thigh, lowering her leg and my body as I go.
Still lightly stroking her, I drag my mouth up to her hip and pull the thin strap of her lacy panties into my teeth. Then I look up at her.
“I might need this view on my Christmas card,” she breathes, her eyes molten.
Still keeping the lace in my teeth, I grab the other side of her panties with my hand and pull them down and off. Kneeling again between her, my fingers trailing up and down her legs, I ask, “Still yes?”
Her mouth hooks up in a grin. “I do love consent culture.”
I stare intently at her. “Is that a yes, Kayla?”
She nods, her hands flexing. “That’s a yes, Gabriel.”