6. Chapter 6
Hannah
Gavin’s mouth is still on mine when his hands close around my hips.
Then I am moving.
I make a startled sound as he lifts me onto the island, and he swallows it with another kiss before stepping between my knees.
Once Gavin Mercer stops behaving, he seems determined to make up for lost time.
My hands go to his shoulders. He is hot beneath my palms, all hard muscle and bare skin, and there is nothing accidental left between us now.
His hand slides higher along my thigh.
I gasp against his mouth.
He pulls back just enough to look at me.
“Still don’t want me to behave?”
His voice is rough and low, carrying enough warning to send heat rushing through me.
“Still.”
His fingers tighten.
“Good.”
That one word goes straight through me.
His mouth finds my neck, and I tip my head back as his lips move over my skin.
“Gavin.”
A rough sound leaves him.
His hand climbs my thigh again.
“You keep saying my name like that, I’m going to assume you want something.”
“I thought we established that.”
His mouth curves against my skin.
“We did.”
His teeth graze the sensitive place below my ear, and whatever argument I might have made disappears.
He kisses me harder, one hand gripping my hip while the other slips beneath my shirt. His palm moves over my side, the scrape of his calluses against my skin making every inch he touches feel claimed.
When his hand crosses my stomach, I tense before I can stop myself.
Gavin feels it.
His mouth leaves mine.
“Don’t.”
My cheeks heat. “I didn’t do anything.”
“You pulled away.”
“I did not.”
His hand settles more firmly over the softness of my stomach.
“You did.”
I open my mouth to argue, but the look in his eyes stops me.
“I want this.”
My breath catches.
His thumb strokes my skin once.
“All of it.”
There is nothing careful or rehearsed in the way he says it. He simply looks at me as if wanting me exactly like this should have been obvious from the beginning.
Then he kisses me again.
My shirt does not survive much longer.
Gavin catches the hem and pulls it over my head, tossing it somewhere behind him before his gaze drops to me.
For one second, I almost cover myself.
Then I see his face.
“Fuck.”
The word comes out rough enough to erase the impulse.
His hands slide around my waist.
“You have any idea what you do to me?”
I shake my head.
“Good.”
His mouth drops to my throat.
“Then I get to show you.”
Oh.
That seems promising.
His hands move over me without hesitation, gripping my hips, tracing my waist, then sliding higher. One palm cups my breast, his thumb brushing over my nipple until it tightens beneath his touch.
My breath catches.
His eyes drop to it.
“Fuck.”
The rough satisfaction in his voice sends another wave of heat through me.
Then his mouth follows his hand, and I quickly lose the ability to think about anything except where he is touching me and where I want him to touch next.
My fingers knot in his hair when his mouth moves lower.
“Gavin.”
He looks up at me, silver-gray eyes fixed on mine with enough hunger to make my pulse stumble.
“Tell me if you want me to stop.”
I stare at him.
“Do I look like I want you to stop?”
His mouth curves.
“No.”
“Good.”
“Good girl.”
My entire body reacts before my pride can intervene.
Gavin notices.
His expression changes.
Oh, that cannot be good.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“That is absolutely not a nothing face.”
His hand tightens on my thigh.
“Do that again.”
“Do what?”
“React like that when I praise you.”
My face goes hot.
“I did not react.”
He smiles, and it is devastating.
“Liar.”
“Excuse me, I think I would know what my own body—”
Gavin does not give me time to finish.
His hands find the waistband of my shorts, and my sentence disappears along with them. He pulls them down my legs with my panties, leaving both abandoned on the kitchen floor before he drops to his knees between mine.
My breath catches.
Well.
That escalated beautifully.
Gavin grips the backs of my thighs and pulls me closer to the edge of the island until I have no choice but to open wider around his shoulders.
Then he looks at me.
Or rather, at a part of me I have never had anyone look at quite this intently before.
Heat floods my face.
Gavin does not seem remotely embarrassed on my behalf.
His gaze is heavy and hungry, fixed between my thighs as if nothing else in the cabin deserves his attention.
“Look at you,” he mutters.
The roughness in his voice reaches places he has not even touched yet.
Then he leans in.
The first stroke of his tongue shocks a gasp out of me.
My hands fly to his shoulders as pleasure snaps through my body, sharp enough that my back arches and his name breaks from me.
“Gavin.”
He does not stop.
His tongue moves over me again, broad and wet, tracing through my slit before finding my clit. The first swirl around it makes my thighs tighten around his shoulders.
Oh God.
There should be some kind of warning before a man who looks like Gavin discovers he is also extremely talented at this.
My fingers dig into him.
His mouth closes around my clit.
The pull makes my hips jerk toward him.
A low growl vibrates against me.
That nearly ends me.
Gavin grips me harder, spreading my thighs and holding me open while his mouth works between them. He wants to see what he is doing to me, and judging by the rough sound he makes when I get wetter beneath his mouth, he likes the evidence.
A lot.
His tongue finds the same sensitive spot again.
My breath catches.
Then again.
“Oh my God.”
His hands tighten when I try to move closer, anchoring me exactly where he wants me while his mouth continues the relentless assault on my ability to function.
My legs are starting to shake.
“Please.”
Gavin stops.
The sudden absence nearly kills me.
I look down.
His lips are wet, his eyes dark and fixed on mine.
“Please what?”
I stare at him.
He cannot possibly be serious.
Then one eyebrow lifts.
He is serious.
“Don’t stop.”
His mouth curves.
“Good girl.”
Heat clenches low inside me.
I am definitely going to regret teaching him that phrase works.
Not right now.
Later.
Much later.
His mouth returns to me, and his hand follows. One finger presses into me first, making my breath hitch at the unfamiliar stretch.
Gavin immediately eases his pace.
His eyes lift to mine.
“You good?”
“Yes.”
The answer comes out breathless.
He gives me another moment before moving his finger deeper.
The sensation is strange for all of three seconds.
Then his tongue circles my clit again.
Strange becomes irrelevant.
My head falls back.
“Oh.”
A second finger joins the first only after my body has relaxed around him, stretching me more while his mouth keeps working.
My thighs tremble.
There are too many sensations at once.
His fingers filling me.
His tongue moving over my clit.
The grip on my thigh keeping me exactly where he wants me.
The increasingly obvious fact that Gavin knows exactly what he is doing.
The tension gathers low in my belly, winding tighter every time his fingers move inside me.
Gavin feels the change.
His eyes lift to my face.
Then he finds a spot that makes my entire body jerk.
I gasp.
He does it again.
“Right there.”
His fingers repeat the motion.
“Gavin, right there.”
That is all the instruction he needs.
His mouth stays on my clit while his fingers keep the same rhythm, and the pressure inside me builds so quickly I stop trying to follow it.
I grab his shoulders.
My legs shake.
“Gavin.”
He grips my thigh.
“I’ve got you.”
Something snaps.
Pleasure crashes through me so hard my breath disappears. My body locks around his fingers, hips lifting helplessly as his name tears out of me.
Gavin does not stop when I come. He stays between my thighs until the hardest waves finally ease, his mouth moving over me with softer strokes while my body still twitches from every touch.
When he finally rises, I am fairly certain several essential systems have shut down.
He looks wrecked.
That is extremely satisfying.
His hand comes up beneath my chin, tilting my face toward his.
“So did I behave?” he asks, voice rough.
I stare at him.
Then manage, “Well.”
His chest moves with a quiet laugh.
“Well?”
“I had a better sentence.”
“What happened to it?”
“You.”
His mouth presses against my temple.
The tenderness catches me off guard after what he just did to me on his kitchen island.
When he steps between my knees again, I feel the hard ridge of him through his sweatpants, and my cheeks heat.
His hand settles on my hip.
“I’m taking you to bed.”
My pulse jumps.
The words change something.
What happened here already matters, but we both know what he means.
I put my hand against his chest.
“Wait.”
Gavin stops immediately.
His attention locks onto me.
“There’s something you should know.”
“What?”
I swallow.
“I’m a virgin.”
He goes completely still.
His eyes search mine.
“You’ve never had sex.”
“No.”
His jaw tightens.
“Why?”
I blink. “That’s your question?”
“Yes.”
I should have expected that.
“Because I wanted it to mean something. I wanted to trust the person and feel safe with him.”
His eyes stay on mine.
I hesitate only a second.
“And I always thought I’d wait until I loved him.”
The words settle between us.
I know what I have just admitted.
Judging by Gavin’s face, so does he.
His hand tightens on my hip.
“Fuck, Hannah.”
“That sounded ominous.”
“It wasn’t.”
“Then what was it?”
He leans in until his forehead touches mine.
“If I take you to my bed, I’m not doing temporary.”
My heart pounds.
“What does that mean?”
His gaze does not move.
“It means if we do this, you’re mine.”
Heat rushes through me.
“That is extremely possessive.”
“Yes.”
“At least you admit it.”
His thumb moves over my waist.
“You’re still mine.”
I stare at him.
“You know I’m not property.”
“I know.”
“Good.”
“And I’m yours.”
That shuts me up much more effectively than anything else he has said.
There is no teasing in his face now. Gavin looks at me with the same certainty he brings to everything else, as if he settled this question somewhere in his own head before I knew anyone was asking it.
I touch the stubble along his jaw.
“You really don’t do anything halfway.”
“No.”
The answer comes so quickly that I almost laugh.
Instead, Gavin slides one arm beneath my knees and the other around my back.
“Oh.”
He lifts me from the island.
My arms go around his neck.
“You know I can walk.”
“I know.”
He starts down the hallway anyway.
I look at his profile, at the hard line of his jaw, and my heart does something inconveniently soft.
“Gavin.”
“What?”
“If I tell you this is absurdly attractive, will it go to your head?”
“Yes.”
“Good talk.”
His mouth twitches.
Then he kicks the bedroom door open.
My stomach flips.
There are subtler ways to enter a room.
I am suddenly not interested in any of them.