Chapter 25
GAbrIEL
Fuck. I shouldn’t agree to this. What the hell am I thinking? This is wrong. She’s hurt and vulnerable. Shit. But I don’t know if I have it in me to deny her.
Cecilia rises up on her tiptoes and hovers her lips over mine. “Please,” her words whisper along my lips.
Do you think I can get my mouth to voice the words, very reasonable words, that suggest we pump the brakes? Slow down, at least until she feels better?
Of course not.
I’m lost when it comes to this girl. I want her, more than I’ve ever wanted anyone or anything in my life before.
I’ve kissed her lips. Stroked her body. Brought her to the height of pleasure with nothing more than my hand.
But it’s not enough. I want more. Everything she has to give, and it takes every single molecule of self-control I have to keep myself from taking it.
From grabbing her face, devouring her mouth with mine, and claiming her in a way that makes her and I more than casual.
I want fucking permanent.
But she’s scared. I want to take what she offers, but it’d destroy me if she later regretted it. I can’t lose her. Seeing her on the ground today shook me to my core. But fear isn’t reason enough to let those assholes get away with what they did to her.
Cecilia’s lips mold against mine. My control slips.
Cradling her head in my hand, I wait, giving her the chance to take the lead.
To be in control. That’s what she needs right now.
Control. I feel it in her kiss. In the tight line of her neck and shoulders.
She’s trying to reclaim some of her power back.
And I’ll be damned if I take it away from her. Cecilia’s tongue peaks out, and I groan as she leans in and explores my mouth. She’s shy at first. Almost timid like she worries any moment I will reject her.
I could never.
Pulling her closer, Cecilia presses against me, her breast mashing into my chest. I feel the exact moment her confidence rises. This is only the beginning, I want to tell her. There’s no rush. She can take all the time that she needs.
I release her face, running my hands down her arms before briefly squeezing her waist. Releasing her, I keep my eyes locked with hers and step backwards until the backs of my shins meet the small pullout couch in my room. I sink into my seat and motion her forward.
A small smile curls her lips, and she follows after me. Legs spread wide, I run my hands over my jean clad thighs and wait to see what she’ll do next. Cecilia hesitates for only a second before lowering herself to straddle my lap.
I fight the urge to shift in my seat. To thrust my already hard length against the warmth of her pussy. She settles her weight on me, her small hands pressing against my chest.
Her heat seeps through the thin material of her leggings.
And I squeeze my eyes closed, envisioning her bare and spread out for me, like a feast, ready to be savored and enjoyed.
Is she wet for me? Does her pussy ache to be filled the way my cock aches to fill her?
I bite back a groan and kiss her again, craving the feel of her skin against mine.
Cecilia’s mouth tastes like cherry and cola, the flavor sinking into my taste buds as I chase after her lips.
We kiss for what feels like an eternity but also not nearly long enough.
It will never be enough with her. Like before, I feel the moment she gets restless.
When kissing and licking and touching is no longer enough.
Her teeth nip at my bottom lip and against my control, my hips thrust up against her center.
Cecilia gasps into my mouth and I silently curse myself for my reaction, but fuck, I love it when she bites. I lick the corner of her mouth before biting her full bottom lip and she blesses me with the most incredible feeling.
Pressing down, Cecilia grinds herself against me. I groan, my fingers tightening around her hips. Fuck. I tear my mouth from hers and try to catch my breath.
“Is that—I’m sorry.”
What? No. She should not be apologizing right now.
Cecilia worriedly chews her bottom lip, cheeks flushed, and looks away. I pull her eyes back to me.
“What are you apologizing for?”
She opens her mouth, but no words come out.
“Do you think I didn’t like it?” I ask.
Her cheeks turn a darker shade of pink and I smirk. Fuck, she’s cute.
Careful. So fucking careful, I thrust my cock against her center while pulling down on her hips.
Her lips part and her lashes flutter. “Oh,” she gasps. “That feels…”
“Good?” I ask.
She nods, and I do it again. I’m rewarded with a breathy moan falling from her lips.
Cecilia grinding down on my dick is a mixture of pure pleasure and agony. Something I’ve never felt quite like this before.
The hard length of my cock is aligned with her pussy and her thighs cage me in, resting on either side of my waist, but it’s a cage of my own making. And one I have zero desire to escape.
For the next several minutes we dry hump like teenagers on the sofa, her tiny nails digging into my shoulders as she chases her release. Her eyes are glazed and her hair is a mess, but she’s never been more beautiful than she is right now. Needy. Desperate. Determined to take her pleasure.
I’m all but fucking her through our clothes, my dick shoving its way through the fabric of her pants and the thin material of my soccer shorts, but it’s not enough. I want more.
Releasing her, I fist my hands at my sides and shove them back against the cushions.
I refuse to fuck this up. Her hands move from digging into my skin to clawing at the fabric of my shirt as her throat makes this soft mewling sound that drives me absolutely insane. I swear this girl will be the death of me.
Following her lead, I help her tug my shirt over my head, leaving my chest bare. Her eyes darken with lust and she licks her lips in clear appreciation.
Fingers itching, I slip them beneath the hem of her shirt before meeting her gaze. A silent question passes between us and she nods.
Fucking yes.
Swallowing hard, I push up the fabric of her shirt and she obediently raises her arms for me. Peeling it from her skin, I take in every inch of perfectly tanned skin I expose before tossing the shirt aside.
I eye her reverently. “Es un suena.”
“What does that mean?” I can hear the worry in her voice. The insecurities.
Leaning forward, I kiss the tops of each of her breasts before tilting my head up and meeting her gaze. “You’re a dream.”
A small smile curls the corners of her lips.
“I don’t deserve you,” I tell her, and it’s true.
I don’t. Cecilia Russo is cut from a different cloth.
An angel walking amongst us mere mortals.
She is stronger and braver than anyone I know and I was an idiot to ever believe her selfish or a coward for trying to take her own life.
She is the complete opposite of those things and she is quickly becoming my everything.
“I’m too selfish to let you go,” I confess. “I want you, Cecilia.” I smile and shake my head. “No. I don’t want you,” I tell her. “I need you.”
I hope she knows that. Believes it down to the very marrow of her bones. She’s upset with me now. Hurt because I want to protect her. But there is no one else for me. Already, without even having her, she’s ruined me for anyone else. Only she will do.
Her eyes widen and her throat bobs as she swallows hard. I see her doubts reflected in her eyes. The fear. But with me, there is nothing to be afraid of. I would sooner carve my bleeding heart from my chest than do anything to hurt her.
I grab her by the back of the neck and press my forehead to hers. “You are the only woman I want.” I wait for my words to sink in, but instead of answering my declaration with words of her own, Cecilia boldly reaches behind herself and unclasps her bra, letting the thin material fall to her waist.
I jerk my gaze down and crush the lace fabric in my hands, knowing that all it will take is one look and I’m done for. My control will snap.
“Then for tonight, take me.”
Did I hear that right? Cecilia takes the bra from my hands and sets it aside before taking my larger hand in hers and guiding it to her breast.
Shit. Swallowing hard, I stare at her chest and my other hand follows suit to cup her other breast.
“I want this,” she says and rocks into me. “I want you.”
I knead her breasts in my palms, stroking my thumbs over her nipples. She whimpers so I do it again, paying close attention to how her body responds.
She makes these breathy, needy sounds as I play with her tits, and the sounds alone are enough to have precum leaking from my dick. Fuck. I’ll cum in my shorts if we keep going like this.
“What do you need?” I ask, needing her to advance this along, but I don’t want to push her. To take more than she’s willing to give. If I fuck this up, I’ll never forgive myself.
Cecilia pushes to her feet, and it takes everything in me to drop my hands to my sides instead of pulling her back. With a coy look on her face, she surprises me again as she lowers her pants, taking her underwear with them until she stands before me, completely bare.
Leaning forward, I brace my forearms on my knees. “Fuck me.” My words are hoarse and I fight to remain in my seat.
“I want you inside of me.”
Hallelujah. Hearing her words is heaven to my ears, but I still have to ask.
“Are you sure?”
She nods.
“Words, baby. I need words.”
“Yes. I’m sure.”
Taking her word that she’s ready for what comes next, I lift my hips and shove my shorts down, kicking them free as soon as they hit the ground. My dick bobs to attention, proud and eager to be of use.
Cecilia’s eyes widen, gaze locked on my cock. Her tongue peeks out to wet her lips, and I give her a moment to take me in.
Fisting myself, I lean back and stroke my length, watching her face for any sign of hesitancy. There is none.
“Come here.”