Chapter 39 - Gabriel
Bridget tasted of honey. I focused on that, her sweetness, while my heart pounded with anticipation.
The first time we had kissed, it had been tension shattering, an expression of the confused, pent up desire we’d been building. I had nearly kissed her again in the alley outside her parents’ home. But there had still been blood on my shoes; it was not the time.
But now there was no distraction. This time I would be patient.
I cradled Bridget’s jaw, her skin soft beneath my fingers, then traced a line down the side of her throat.
She whimpered again, so soft I almost couldn’t hear it.
I was not an Alpha, but the sound stirred something primal within me all the same.
The kiss drifted, slow and exploratory. Bridget licked delicately at the seam of my lips. Her flavor intensified as her tongue tangled with mine. The moment felt suspended, almost like a dream.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” Bridget murmured against my lips.
“Sí, mia bella. I am sure.”
The truth had been dawning on me, slowly, but nothing brought clarity like almost losing her. Bridget was Bridget, and she was mine.
Bridget’s eyes darkened, and our next kiss wasn’t so soft, or so slow. I groaned as she pushed her hands under the hem of my shirt.
It may have stopped there, been only a kiss, if she had not slipped her hand under my waistband.
Her fingers against me, just a brush of her hand against my cock, was enough to send me almost out of my skin with desire.
“Is this okay?” she asked, her eyes tentative.
“Carissima, it is—” I broke off with a groan as she brushed me again, more firmly this time. “It is magnificent. But you must stop before I—”
I stretched out over her, trapping her beneath me with her hands above her head.
“Fammi vedere.” I peeled off her shirt and soft, flimsy bra, revealing small breasts tipped with dark pink nipples. Her skin was so pale in the dim light that she could have been a spirit.
“Your turn,” she said, a bit breathless.
I pulled off my t-shirt, then rolled until she was straddling my hips. Bridget watched me with glazed eyes. I brushed my hand up from her hips to her waist and felt her shiver. “You make me feel like a beast, carissima.”
Bridget drew her fingers through the dark hair on my chest, down the trail across my stomach. “You’re beautiful.”
The sincerity in her eyes humbled me. Whatever I felt for her, Bridget felt it too.
Our lips met again and again in lazy, lingering kisses. Bridget grew bolder, stroking my tongue more firmly with hers, then licking at the shell of my ear. I groaned and gripped her hips instinctively, pressing her against my heavy, aching cock.
“Carissima,” I murmured. “I want to touch you. Here.” I rocked my hips, grinding against the heat between her thighs.
“Only if I can touch you, too,” she breathed, her face turning rosy pink.
The thought alone made my balls tighten. I swallowed. “Whatever you want, mi fiore.”
We removed the rest of our clothing quickly, watching each other. I saw Bridget’s eyes widen slightly as they roved over my cock. It curled towards my stomach, as hard as it had ever been. We settled back on the pillow, facing each other.
“We do not have to go any farther, tesoro,” I assured her.
Bridget kissed me again. “I want to,” she whispered against my lips.
I let myself go, as I hadn’t before. I poured in the terror I’d felt when she left with Domenic, when I’d seen the horror of that clinic.
The desire that had been mounting for weeks, the echoes of Andrew’s lust that reverberated through me whenever she entered the room, but also my own curiosity.
I had not been with anyone but Andrew in years, and learning someone new was intoxicating in its own right.
Just when she began to squirm, I brushed my hand against the thatch of dark blonde curls between her thighs. She gasped, then whined as I dipped one finger into the honey that gathered at her entrance.
I watched her face as I stroked inside, exploring her. She was so warm and soft it felt unreal. When I withdrew my finger to play with the soft folds of her skin, she whimpered again.
I was not so unfamiliar with a woman’s body that I did not know where to touch her. I found her clit, larger than I expected. She was already swollen for me, enough that I could grasp her between my thumb and forefinger and stroke gently.
“Oh my god,” she breathed, gripping my forearm. Her eyes were wide as she bit her lip.
“You like this?” I asked and stroked her again, more firmly this time.
“So much.” She dropped her gaze to watch me touch her. My cock jerked in response to her whimpers and rapidly thickening scent. I alternated between plunging my fingers inside her and stroking her hard clit until her slick was dripping to my wrist.
“Wait,” Bridget gasped. I froze, ready to stop completely if that’s what she wanted, even if my body was screaming to sink into her, to feel her sweet body grasping at my cock. Her eyes, hooded and deep blue, still looked glassy with desire. “I want to touch you first. Please.”
I groaned, smiling. “Certo che sí, carissima,” I murmured and reluctantly removed my hand.
“Roll over,” Bridget whispered, crawling over me. I dutifully rolled onto my back.
Holding herself above me with trembling arms, she started at my neck, breathing in a long inhale of my scent. Her breath tickled my skin, then her tongue as she teased the spot right below my ear.
Kisses trailed across my jaw, down my throat, to my collarbone.
My cock brushed against the skin of her stomach and I jerked involuntarily at the sensation.
Bridget took her time, licking then scraping her teeth against my nipples, brushing her nose through my chest hair. She finally settled between my legs.
“Mi fai impazzire,” I groaned with a wry smile. Somehow, Bridget’s instincts to tease me were the same as Andrew’s, as if she knew it was the anticipation that made things even sweeter.
“What does that mean?” She asked, drawing one finger up the inside of my thigh.
I pressed my head against the bed, clenching my fists to stop from grasping my cock. “You are driving me mad, tesoro.”
Bridget’s breath caught, and she gave a small whimper. Did she like the idea of having me at her mercy? Her hot gaze said yes.
“Stay still,” she whispered, then drew her fingers from my thigh to my balls.
They had already tightened, but her touch made them contract farther, and a bit of pre-cum leaked from my tip.
When her finger brushed against the delicate skin behind them, I had to dig my heels in not to beg for her touch.
She massaged me gently for a few moments, watching my face intently, then finally, finally touched my aching cock.
Her hand was soft, barely brushing the skin of my shaft, then the head. Her thumb swiped gently at the trail of pre-cum. But before I could adjust to the feeling of her hand, she was leaning forward, her mouth hovering above me. “Can I?”
“Se non lo fai…” I trailed off. My brain seemed unable to find English words. “Sí.”
Bridget’s tongue was first, soft as a kitten’s against the head of my cock, lapping at the slit. I did not have the flavor of an Alpha, but she did not seem to care.
She took the whole tip in her mouth slowly, her tongue still lapping experimentally against me.
I was murmuring to her, telling her what a good girl she was, how her mouth felt against me, how I wanted to feel her pussy where her mouth was sweetly torturing me.
Doubtless she did not understand a word, but when her hand joined her mouth, to stroke at my shaft while her tongue swirled around me, I had to grasp her wrist and pull her hand away.
“Aspetti, tesoro. Wait,” I said urgently. I would not finish in her mouth. Bridget sat up, her lips glossy and pink. I groaned at her expression, but forced myself to take two slow breaths. “I want to cum inside you, carissima.”
“Yes,” Bridget said simply, her eyes blazing.
We moved again until I was between her thighs. She bent her legs to let her knees fall open, and my cock strained towards her. “Are you ready?”
“Please,” Bridget said with a hint of a whine.
I couldn’t wait any longer. I dragged the tip of my cock through the slick dripping from her until I was coated in it, then eased my way inside.
Would I hurt her? I watched her face for any sign of pain, but I shouldn’t have worried.
“Oh my god, yes,” she breathed as I inched forward. The whole way, I could feel the walls of her pussy gripping me.
So different from fucking Andrew. Softer, smoother. When I was fully seated inside her, Bridget’s pussy contracted around me in waves that made me want to thrust, but I held myself still.
“Is okay?” I asked, proud of myself for managing to ask in English when my brain was scrambled by lust.
Bridget nodded and rocked her hips slightly. I shifted inside her, and something shifted in my mind as well.
My control broke. I pulled out, then thrust forward, and the sensation was just as intense as the first time. I leaned over her, still plunging inside, until I could kiss her. Her lips, her throat, the lobes of her small, delicate ears.
Bridget’s moans grew louder, more urgent. I leaned back again and brought her hand to her pussy. “Touch,” I said, not trusting myself to do it properly when my mind was half gone.
She began circling her clit with her finger, and I watched the movement, committing what she liked to memory. The strokes became faster, and I matched her pace.
I was going to come. My balls were tightening again, but I held back.
“Bella ragazza,” I rasped. “Come for me, carissima.”
Bridget went rigid beneath me as her free hand gripped the mattress, looking for purchase. I tumbled too as her body gripped me tighter, pulsing in waves that matched the jerking of my cock. It seemed to last an age.
When my orgasm finally released me, I rolled Bridget onto her side so I could collapse beside her. Her pussy was still contracting around me intermittently as she came down as well.
I pulled her close, suddenly emotional. To share something like this with her was a precious gift.
She wrapped her arms around my waist, her face in the hollow of my throat.
I murmured in her ear again, praising her, telling her how she had filled my heart.
Some of it might have even been in English.
“Thank you,” she said after a few moments. Her voice was thick with emotion, too, and when she leaned back, I saw tears clinging to her dark blonde lashes.
“Of course, mia cara,” I said, kissing away a tear from her cheek. “Mi fiore.” Another kiss below the corner of her left eye. “Mine.”
Bridget smiled then, a little teasing. “Yours?”
“Certo,” I whispered. I hesitated for just a moment. It was too soon, and I would probably scare her, but I couldn’t keep it to myself any longer. “You are mine as surely as I love you, carissima.”
Bridget’s breath caught again, her mouth a small O of surprise. But then she smiled. “You love me?”
“How could I not?” I asked, brushing away another tear that had escaped.
Bridget’s eyes flickered between mine. “I love you, too,” she murmured, her smile widening.
“Sí?” I asked. My voice broke on the question.
Bridget kissed me once more, her eyes shining. “How could I not?”
We lay quietly for a few moments, just breathing. As I adjusted to this new reality, where I could tell Bridget how beautiful and precious and loved she was any time of the day, I felt Andrew assert himself in the bond. Jealousy, exasperating smugness, and love. I sent my happiness back to him.
Things were not perfect. There were loose ends that needed tying up before I could properly relax. But at that moment, with Bridget warm and dozing in my arms, I was content.