Chapter 15 Alessia
Gabriel moves me carefully again, lifting me with strong arms until my back presses against the cool tile of the shower.
The water from the shower head cascades over us in a steady, hot stream, steam curling against the fogged glass so that everything outside of this tiny space we’re in isn’t visible.
His cock rests between my legs, heavy and insistent, and I already know that this is going to ruin me in the best possible way. That he’s going to follow through on my request for him to wreck me.
“Are you sure about this?” he asks again, his gaze searching mine for any hesitation. He brushes damp strands of hair away from my face, his brown eyes searching mine, waiting, giving me the space to change my mind.
“Yes.”
His hand moves between us, gripping himself, pulling back just enough to line the head of his thick cock up at my entrance.
It’s warm and wet, the skin smooth and flared as he drags it through my slickness first, coating himself in me.
He fists his shaft, spreading my arousal, mixing his precum with mine like a natural lubricant until he’s completely hard.
“I can’t wait to be inside you, Alessia. I’m dying to feel this pretty pussy squeeze me when you come again.”
I nod because I can’t either.
And then he’s there, pressing in, so careful, so patient with me. I relax every muscle in my pelvis, my abdomen, my face—forcing myself to let go and open.
Where it used to feel like forcing a pencil inside me when I tried with my ex-husband—especially toward the end when my body knew something was wrong, but I didn’t have the evidence that he was lying and cheating, this is different.
Gabriel made sure that I was ready for his big size.
He wanted me soft, pliant and open so that this wouldn’t physically hurt.
And maybe that’s why, despite how much bigger he is than anyone I’ve ever been with, despite the nerves coiling in my stomach at the thought of letting someone in again, of being vulnerable and.
.. seen, it still feels… right. It doesn’t hurt physically or emotionally. It feels… incredible.
He pulls back slightly, watching between us as his cock slides free just enough for us both to see it reemerge. His gaze darkens like it’s something to behold before he pushes in deeper.
“I’m almost all the way in, Aly. Relax. Let me feel you wrapped around me. Let me make you feel so good. Let me help you come again.”
I exhale, melting into his arms, into the way he holds me up so effortlessly against the tiles.
He rocks his hips back, and this time, when he moves forward, he sinks all the way in—until there’s nowhere left to go.
It’s just me and him, connected in the most intimate way with a sharp, delicious stretch that has our pelvises kissing, my breasts pressed to his strong chest, and nothing but him.
I inhale sharply.
Oh.
My.
God.
The fullness.
The fullness.
It can’t be described. Like being filled in a way you were always meant to be but never quite managed because nothing was ever big enough. Like the final piece of a puzzle clicking into place, fitting exactly as it should—like it was always supposed to.
It’s like being starving—empty, hollow, aching—and then suddenly so stuffed from an all-you-can-eat buffet you can barely move.
I could go on, but just picture one of those memes—a massive tractor-trailer trying to squeeze through a tunnel half its size. It’s that.
And more.
So much more.
You couldn’t wedge a finger around him if you tried. There’s just too much of him. Too much thickness. Too much girth. Too much man.
He pauses, holding himself still inside me, watching me carefully, and that’s when I see it—the tight strain in his jaw, the thick cords of his neck bulging, the flex of muscle in his chest. He’s holding back so that he doesn’t hurt me. He’s just as lost in this as I am in the sensations.
“Are you okay?” I whisper.
A slow smile spreads across his face before he tilts his head back into the stream of water.
Like a fucking slow-motion porno, he tosses his black hair under the spray, sending droplets flying over my skin, my nipples, my face.
Then, with a free hand, he slicks it all back, and it’s unfair unreal really how good he looks under the water.
Then his face hardens, his voice dropping into a gravelly growl.
“No, I’m not fucking okay, Alessia. I’m never going to recover from this. I’m never going to recover from you.”
His fingers flex against my thighs as his gaze darkens, his body tightening like a predator on the verge of snapping. My lips part in surprise.
“It’s taking every shred of strength, every ounce of patience, every single cell in my body not to come inside you right now.
Your pussy…” His hand moves between us, fingers swiping at where we’re joined underneath, brushing against the sensitive seam of his cock where I know he’s pierced.
I feel the silver balls when he pulls back a little, changes his angle just slightly, and rubs them right against my opening.
“Your pussy is fucking glorious. The tightest I’ve ever been inside. ”
My nipples feel like they’re going to explode. I’ve never had someone talk this dirty to me.
“It’s warm. Wet. Holding me like a tourniquet.
If you asked me to pull out and stop right now, I don’t think I could.
But I’d find a way—and then I’d drop to my knees and worship you all over again, eat this divine pussy until you came all over my face and I feasted on every drop that you’re willing to give me. ”
My mouth falls open, my breath stuttering, my brain short-circuiting. Then he leans in, pressing his forehead to mine, his next words spoken so close I feel the heat of them against my lips.
“So yeah, I’m going to start fucking you now—if that’s okay—because it’s been a really long fucking time since I’ve been inside a woman, and never—never—have I fucked one raw since my ex-wife.”
I nod, feeling desperate, frantic, ready for what he’s going to give me. And that’s all it takes.
Gabriel moves hard. He pulls out, thrusts back in, all the way to the root. I let out a moan and he groans, and we both look down, watching as I stretch around him, as my body takes him, welcomes him, something I didn’t think I was capable of doing anymore without pain.
One of his hands slips between us, fingers finding my clit, rubbing slow, careful circles.
Just enough pressure to keep me on the edge but not enough to send me over too soon.
My thighs quiver, tightening around his hips as I try to hold on.
He twists his hips on his next thrust, and I feel the silver jewelry again.
“You like that?” he rasps, swiping water from his face. Without even looking, he reaches up, adjusts the shower head, angling it so the spray hits exactly where we’re joined—so it pelts my already oversensitive clit in relentless, pinpointed pressure.
Oh.
Oh.
If that wasn’t the sexiest fucking thing ever. A man checking in, adjusting, making sure I’m pleased and having a good time while he’s still riding his own high.
He presses a button and the stream sharpens, a single concentrated jet hitting right there, and I can’t even form words to answer him.
“Yeah,” I breathe, barely able to speak. “Yeah, I like that. Gabriel, I’m not going to last very long.”
He grins. A knowing, wicked grin. Then he thrusts back into me, deeper this time. My back thumps against the wall, and it’s too good—so good—I can’t stop.
“You think you can give me another one?”
“Um...” my clit feels like it’s going to fall off. “Yeah.”
Gabriel grins, flashing perfect white teeth, then shifts his grip—one hand tightening on my waist, the other moving to my ass.
He squeezes, lifts, adjusts—and suddenly, I’m weightless again.
He’s holding me up effortlessly, my back’s no longer against the wall, he’s positioned me exactly how he wants, and fuck, it’s like I was made for this. Made to ride him.
Then he takes over.
His hips snap up into me, his cock driving deep, the obscene slap of our bodies filling the tight shower.
The mix of heat, steam, and slick skin has me feeling like I might melt right off him.
There’s no ice. There’s nothing cold about me anymore.
I hold on—clutching, clinging, gasping and coming.
So much coming. I can’t figure out where one orgasm ends and the next stars because he isn’t stopping.
I feel boneless, like I’d agree to anything he asked of me right now. And that’s saying a lot, considering Gabriel is still very much a man and a stranger.
“Yes, Gabriel, oh my god, yes. Take me. Your piercings.” I can’t even finish my sentence it feels so good.
A deep rumble vibrates through his chest, a sound so guttural, so primal, that it sends another wave of need surging through me. He pushes deeper, stretching me more, reaching places that haven’t been touched in years.
Maybe ever.
And then—oh fuck.
The pleasure crests so fast, so hard, I barely have time to realize it’s happening before I’m thrown off the edge. No warning, no control—just pure, helpless release. Another one.
I can’t get the words out. I just hold onto him, gasping for air in the thick humidity as my pussy clenches, crushes, and squeezes around his thick length, pulling him deeper, refusing to let him go.
“Fuck,” he grits out. His entire body tenses as he tries to hold on, but then his rhythm stutters, his grip tightens, and his cock twitches inside me.
“Fuck. You’re pulling me in. I—shit.”
Gabriel jerks back and pulls out—just barely—slipping out with only a second to spare. His arm stays locked around me as his other hand grips himself, stroking rough and fast as he aims downward. Then he groans, tips his head to the ceiling, and releases all over the floor.
I watch, entranced, as cum spills from the swollen tip of his dick, landing on the wet tile, streaking down his thigh and dripping onto mine.
The water rushes most of it toward the drain, but I don’t want it all to go. I don’t want all of him to just… disappear. For this wild night where I’ve reclaimed my own right to feel pleasure to be gone.
So, before I can second-guess myself, I reach down, scooping up a streak of white that landed on my leg before the water could steal it. Then I bring it to my lips so that he can see, spread my fingers and part my lips, sucking them clean.
Salty. Warm. Masculine.
But there’s something else, too. Something deeper. A man who cares about women. A man who takes his time. A man who wants to be sure you trust him before he touches you.
Gabriel watches, eyes blazing, silent as he breathes through the last shudders of release. Then, without a word, he reaches for my washcloth, his touch unexpectedly tender as he wipes the rest away—down my legs, between my thighs, lingering just enough to make me shiver.
Once I’m clean, he twists the shower knob, cutting off the water, and then steps out. A second later, a thick towel is wrapped around my shoulders, swallowing me whole. He’s got another tucked low around his waist covering him up.
Then, just like before, he picks me up.
I let him.
He carries me to my bed, peeling back the covers before tucking me under them, like I’m something precious. Something worth protecting.
“It’s fucking freezing in here,” he mutters, pulling the blankets higher around my neck until I’m cozy. “I’m not leaving you to sleep like this.”
“It’s okay,” I whisper, my body already sinking into the mattress. The exhaustion mixed with too many orgasms to count is hitting me hard and fast. If I don’t pass out in the next ten seconds, it’ll be a miracle.
“Not a fucking chance,” he grumbles. “I’ll be right back. I’m getting a space heater from my house.”
I blink, half-conscious, and push up on one elbow as the towel slips down my chest. “You’re naked. And isn’t it snowing outside?”
Gabriel glances down at himself like he forgot he’s only wearing a towel, then sighs, heading back into the bathroom. A second later, he’s pulling on his jeans and yanking his shirt over his damp hair.
“I’ll be back.”
I watch him go.
I should stay awake. I should wait for him. Maybe he’d want to stay. Maybe we could—cuddle.
…Cuddle? Oh my god, get a grip. Cuddling? Now?
He did what he came here to do. What I wanted him to do. I should let him go in peace. He gave me orgasms. He gave me trust. Gabriel will make some woman very happy someday. He’ll get his second chance with the right person just like I will. We agreed that all tonight was about was sex.
And somewhere in the waiting for him to return, I drift off.
And when I wake in the early hours of the morning…I’m warm.
I blink sleepily, turning my head toward the side of the bed to see what’s the source of that warmth. A sleek, stainless steel space heater hums quietly a few feet away, aimed right at me, blowing a steady stream of air over my body.
My toes have never been warmer. And that’s saying something, considering I’m wearing no socks. I smile, curling deeper into the blankets and smell the scent of Gabriel still on my skin.
Then I fall back asleep, dreaming of better days ahead.