19. Gabriella
Gabriella
M y body trembled. My nerves were shot. This was the elevator scene at the hotel on steroids.
Damien’s arms protectively came around me as Darius’s words played on a loop in my mind. I clung tightly to his torso, the sound of his heart beating in my ear. Soothingly, he rubbed a circle on my back.
I looked up. “What if he would have come and you were gone?”
“He’s mostly talk.”
“Damien,” I said, taking a deep breath. “I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t even know which way is up right now. I do need to think. I also know I don’t want you to leave.”
He lifted my chin. “I never fucking wanted to leave you.”
Our lips came together.
My mind screamed that I was kissing a married man.
It was my body and heart that didn’t care.
After all, only an hour earlier, I believed myself to be married to Damien.
Our kiss deepened as Damien pulled my blouse from the waist of my slacks, and his warm large hands roamed over my lower back. I pressed closer, wanting the strength of his toned body against mine.
He slowly released me and took a step back. “I want you, Ella. I won’t leave you, but I need to know right now if this will go further. If you say no, I’ll go upstairs, take an ice-cold shower and jack off before sleeping in one of the spare bedrooms. No matter what, you won’t be alone. I’m acquiescing to you—to your decision.”
Looking in his eyes, I saw the turbulent indecision churning within. Our future was on a precipice. We could be subject to the whims of the world beyond our control, or we could choose to stay steadfast in the commitment we made to one another.
The world would forever conjure storms. To think otherwise was a fool’s dream. It wasn’t the wind and rain that mattered, but the way we withstood it. Such as the crops in the country fields, the tall stalks of corn survived the summer storms by bending to the wind and gaining strength from the rain. Brittle trees broke, splintering with their unyielding stance.
I didn’t want to break.
We could bend.
I took Damien’s hand in mine. “If I’m going to hell for loving a married man, I might as well enjoy the journey.” I tilted my head toward the staircase. “Come upstairs with me.”
Damien lifted my hand to his lips. “I love you, too.”
With his hand in my grasp, I led us up the stairs and to the bedroom we’d shared the night before. Once within, Damien closed the blinds and curtains as I began to unbutton the front of my blouse.
He turned on the lamp on the bedside stand, creating a golden glow of light. “I want to see you, to know you’re real.” In a few strides, he was before me, his large fingers taking over the task of undoing the buttons before he slid the material from my shoulders.
Goose bumps peppered my flesh as his lips found the sensitive skin where my neck and collarbone met. Distracting me with kisses, Damien unclasped my bra and teased it from my arms. I let out a whimper as his kisses moved lower, sucking and nipping my hardening nipples.
Wrapping my arms around his head, I held him close as his ministrations to my breasts instigated a corresponding twisting of my core. Soon, my slacks too were lost to the bedroom floor, leaving me with only my lace panties.
Damien took my hand and lifted it high. “You’re so damn beautiful. Spin.”
I did, turning a complete circle as if I were a ballerina in a jewelry box.
When I stopped, Damien reached for my hair tie, gently tugging it, and allowing my hair to cascade down my back. It was my turn to tease free the buttons of his shirt before pushing it from his wide shoulders. I unbuckled his belt as Damien kicked his shoes from his feet.
Once we were both clothed only in our underwear, Damien lifted my chin, setting his navy gaze on me. “What do you want?”
“Make the world go away.”
“Your wish,” he said as he lifted me, “is my command.”
My hands went to his solid shoulders, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. Our lips sought one another’s as he carried me from the bedroom into the adjoining bath.
Setting me on the edge of the marble vanity, Damien went to the shower, turning on the hot spray. “We’re going to wash the world away.”
My smile beamed as I watched him shed his boxer shorts and carefully monitor the water’s temperature. His muscles were well defined, from those in his chest and torso, to the tightness of his ass and strength in his thighs. It was as if I were watching Poseidon monitoring the waters of the seas.
Damien snagged the waistband of my panties. I lifted my behind from the counter as he dragged them down, leaving them with his boxers. Next, he offered me his hand. I placed mine in his as I hopped down to the floor. Together we entered the steamy stall.
Closing my eyes, I allowed the warm spray to rain down on me.
The act was cathartic as my hair dampened and my skin covered with water.
Damien was next, stepping under the shower. The way he closed his eyes made me wonder if he was thinking the same as I was, how nice it would be to simply wash away the world beyond our bubble. It was as his eyes opened that I saw the gleam I loved and do love.
It was that look that said he only saw me.
A predatory attraction as if he had me in his snare.
My heart beat faster as he closed the small space between us. Once again, with his hands under my ass, he lifted me. My breasts flattened against his hard pecs, and my core rubbed over his tight abs.
I let out a sigh as he spread my lower lips, and a long finger found its way inside me. I leaned back toward the tile, my eyes on his. Our intense stare-down continued as he added a second digit. I sucked in a breath at the invasion.
“Ride my fingers, beautiful.”
My lips quirked. “I’d rather ride your cock.”
“You have to earn my cock, Ella. Ride my fingers.”
Earn.
It was a challenge I’d willingly take.
Lifting myself higher, I pushed off his shoulders and lowered myself. All the while, we continued our stare-down. Over and over, I lifted and lowered. His fingers stretched and teased. It was as he added his thumb and small circles over my clit that I took a shuddering breath.
“That’s it. I want to watch you come.”
I wanted the same.
Faster and faster.
I was almost there.
The orgasm hit with a warning tremor before my entire body convulsed and my pussy spasmed around his fingers. For longer than I knew, I rode out the intense sensation, my lips open and my nails threatening his skin.
When I lifted my head, meeting his gaze, I grinned. “I don’t want the pill equivalent. You’re irreplaceable.”
“Oh, beautiful. We’re not done. It would take a whole fucking bottle.” His smile grew. “Can you stand?”
“Stand.” I looked around the shower. “I think I can.”
“Good.” He lowered my feet to the shower floor. “Turn around and hold onto the wall.”
There was no trepidation or second thoughts.
Damien was directing my pleasure and washing away the world. I was his puppet to instruct and manipulate. Putty in his hands, his capable hands. I widened my stance and placed each hand against the tile. My splayed fingers were all I saw as Damien’s touch covered me, such as the shower’s spray. Starting at my sides, he moved lower. My torso. My waist. My hips. My thighs. His touch shifted, inside my thighs, down to my ankles. He spread my legs farther apart and back to my ass, he pulled it toward him.
It was all a prelude, the building of the melody. The notes that signaled a verse was about to begin. There weren’t words, only notes. Notes that sang their own introduction. The music slowed, a ritardando. The anticipation built. Allegro.
My back arched as Damien filled me, sliding deep within my wet core and stretching me.
The tempo increased.
Vivace.
Presto.
Thrust after thrust.
Damien set the rhythm of the chorus.
My fingers curled as the tension built.
The accelerando wasn’t in my mind alone. Damien, too, was moving faster. His breaths panted in my ear. His grip of my hips intensified. All the while, the warm water coated us, washing away our sins until the stall echoed with Damien’s roar. His cock pulsated as he filled me. Simultaneously, my core imploded.
Synapse after synapse ignited, radiating through my nervous system until my toes curled and my scalp tingled. My forehead fell against the tile as Damien snaked his arm around my waist, saving me from falling.
“You’re mine, Ella,” he declared, his lips near my ear. “Mine.”
Hating myself for breaking our connection, I spun until we were face-to-face. I recalled my mother’s advice.
It takes strong women to love strong men.
I brushed his lips with mine. “And you’re mine, Damien. Make it happen. You promised me to rekindle. I’m holding you to it.”
“We’re stopping Amber and Darius.”
I nodded. “ We are.”