Chapter 34 Gabriel
She’s going to kill me. I’m certain of it.
She’s pulling at every thread of my restraint.
My patience. My goddamn resolve to protect her and respect what she said she wanted.
I thought she understood what I was trying to do.
That this is for her. That I care about her so fucking much I’m willing to look the other way while she dates other men.
While she f… you know what, I can’t even finish the thought.
I can’t picture her with someone else because I know exactly what it would do to me.
It would destroy me. Absolutely gut me. Somewhere between that first night and the shower and to now she’s become mine to protect. Mine to take care of. And now she’s in my bed… getting herself off while I’m holding her in my arms.
Fuck me...
“What are you doing, Aly?” I practically growl.
She’s caged between my arms now, nowhere to go, her brown eyes wide as they flick up to mine in surprise.
But there’s something else there too. Something darker.
Hotter. She’s turned on. I can smell it.
I can still taste her on my fingers. She wants me to touch her.
She wants me to slide my tongue through her wet pussy and make her come like I know I can do so easily.
But I can’t. Not again. Not unless I know she’s mine and she’s not planning another date with Travis or any other asshole in Brookhaven who doesn’t deserve her.
“Touching myself,” Aly whispers. I release her wrist, and her hand instantly slides back to her waistband like she thinks she’s going in for seconds. Not if I’m here.
I stop her wrist before she can. “No.” And then I pin both her hands above her head in one of mine. “Why?”
“…Because you won’t,” she finishes, eyes blazing, lips parted, her chest rising and falling in sharp little breaths like she likes me restricting her movement.
I remember what I told her. That I want to tie her up.
To take away her control and restrain her while I fuck her.
I hold her there, completely at my mercy.
She’s not fighting it. She wants me to keep doing it.
Her hips lift off the bed, rolling instinctively, seeking friction, rubbing against the hardness that’s been in my sweatpants since the moment she walked downstairs. She does it again. Another body roll to the point where she’s practically grinding against my thigh.
I let out a groan, my gaze dropping to where she’s moving, the way she’s trying to get something out of me—get everything out of me to satisfy herself. I should stop her. Should tell her no. Should hold my ground. But I’m hard. So, fucking hard.
“You could come just like this, couldn’t you?”
She’s not even looking at me anymore. Her gaze is focused on my cock straining through my sweatpants.
“You’re so big,” she gasps.
“Aly.”
“I don’t know how I forgot already.”
“Aly.” My control is barely hanging on now.
“You’re the biggest man I’ve ever been with. Strong in every way. But your cock,” she bites down on her bottom limp and tries to move her arms. I squeeze them above her head tighter so she can’t move. She whimpers.
“I want you. Let me touch you. Fuck me. Please.” She’s begging now.
I shake my head, but it’s weak. She lifts her hips again, desperate for pressure, for relief. I grab her waist with my free hand and pin her back into the mattress so that she can’t move anything. This is torture for me.
She whimpers, writhing against my grip, testing it. But finally, she relents and goes still.
My cock aches, my balls are throbbing, tight and demanding some relief.
Every primal instinct inside me wants to rip off her fleece pants, shove down my sweats, and thrust inside her in one smooth, punishing motion.
I want to feel the way her body grips me like she was made to take me.
I want to come inside her every night so no matter where she goes and what she does, she’s leaking me.
But I can’t do that. At least not yet.
“Did you let him touch you?” My voice is softer, tight and I know it’s full of pain. Maybe it isn’t fair for me to ask her, but I need to know.
She stills beneath me, her breath catching.
“W-what?” she whispers.
“Did he touch you? Did you let Travis touch you.” What feels like mine.
A flick of her tongue across her lips—hesitation. And then she says, “A single kiss. That’s it, Gabriel. It was a goodbye kiss, and I felt nothing.”
I let out a heavy sigh. I have no right to be angry—I let her go.
I told her she should. I knew she needed this.
I wanted her to see that I was different.
But fuck, knowing she let someone else’s lips touch hers—even if it meant nothing to her, even if it confirmed what she already knew in her heart—burns like hell.
I tighten my hold, one hand still pinning hers above her head, the other locked onto her hip.
My gaze drags down her body, taking her in.
Alessia’s always been beautiful to me. She’s always had the obvious things.
The kind of beauty that makes men look twice when she walks into a room.
But the things most men notice aren’t the things that matter.
And they sure as hell aren’t the things I’ve been lucky enough to see up close.
Like the way her pupils widen just a little when she’s turned on, until the chocolate brown of her eyes almost disappears.
The creamy light brown of her skin that reminds me of my coffee in the morning, the way it flushes pink when it’s bitten.
Her nipples, a soft shade of brown and mauve that go tight and puffy just from me murmuring something filthy in her ear.
Her collarbone, delicate and sharp in a way that makes my eyes drift lower every single time. And her navel. I don’t know why, but something about it gets me every time. Small. Feminine. So fucking cute it drives me a little insane.
Then there are her thighs. My favorite. Thick and strong and soft all at once. When they squeeze tight around my head, when the world goes muffled and distant while she’s falling apart above me, I always know she’s close.
But none of those things are the real reason she’s beautiful.
What most people never get to see is her heart because she protects it fiercely.
It’s a heart that’s always just wanted to be loved.
To have someone look at her and truly see her.
To finally trust a man and not end up disappointed.
I get that more than she might understand yet.
When I first met Alessia, she was closed off.
Guarded. A little sharp around the edges.
Like she was always waiting for the moment someone would prove her right about them.
But that isn’t who she really is. That’s armor.
She built it piece by piece to protect herself.
And with me… she’s never had to wear it.
She knows that. When those walls come down, what’s left is the real Alessia.
The one hardly anyone gets to see. And she’s the kindest, most thoughtful, most loving woman I’ve ever known.
She loves her grandmother, adores her students and just wants what we all do… for someone to love.
She’s wearing too much clothing. There are too many layers between us. Too many barriers keeping me from feeling the heat of her, the sweat slicking her cool skin. The way her body is soaked for me.
I release her hip for only a second—just enough to shove my sweatpants down and free my cock. I wrap my fist around it, stroking roughly, needing just a moment of relief. But it only makes the ache worse. The need to be inside her stronger.
Aly watches, eyes wide.
She gasps. “Yes.”
I smirk at her. “Do you want this?”
She nods frantically. “Please, Gabriel. So badly.”
A pulse of satisfaction, of possession, floods me. My sack tingles and my cock stiffens in my grip.
“Tell me you regret letting him kiss you.”
She nods her head. “I do”
“Tell me that you were thinking of me.”
She doesn’t hesitate. “I was.”
“Good. Now I want to reclaim your mouth.”
Her brows lift slightly. “What does that mean?” she breathes.
I release her hands just long enough to tug her upright, stripping the oversized sweatshirt off her in one swift motion. Her full, heavy breasts spill free, perfect, soft, her brown nipples already tight just from us talking.
I groan, “You’re so beautiful, Alessia.” I cup them, thumbing over the sensitive peaks, rolling them between my fingers as I watch her body arch and open for me.
“More,” she moans.
I stop. “Not until I reclaim your mouth. Which means I need to fuck it.”
Her breath catches. Her thighs press together like she’s trying to ease the ache but I’m between her legs and my body stops them from rubbing together.
“Would you like that?” I murmur. “Will you let me fuck your mouth so that the only taste you have when you press your lips together is me?”
She nods eagerly. “Yes.”
“Good. Lay back.”
She obeys instantly, sinking into the mattress, eyes locked on mine, full lips already parting and ready.
I move over her, straddling her body, shifting forward until I’m gripping the headboard and my thighs are on either side of her chest. My cock angles at her lips, the tip grazing her chin.
Her tongue peeks out, teasing, flicking the crown in light little taps.
“Grip it,” I tell her. “Yank it. Make me come in your mouth.”
Her hands wrap around my length, and she pumps me. My abs tighten, a sharp exhale leaving my throat with the first swipe of her wet, warm tongue. She does it again, teasing, playing, and I swear I can feel my balls swell even harder, desperate to release down her throat.
I groan, low and rough.
“Open wide and tell me if it’s ever too much.”
“I can take you,” she whispers, her voice wrecked with want before she opens her mouth. Lips parted, eyes locked on mine as I press forward, slowly, letting her mouth stretch, adjust, take me in.