Chapter Twenty-Six #2
I stare down the length of my body at his hand beneath my underwear, my pale thighs framed on either side of his tattooed wrist. There’s something indecent about watching the way the muscles in his arm flex with every smooth roll of his wrist. How the ink shifts with every thrust of his fingers.
Feeling the evidence of my desire for him seems to have flipped the switch on his patience, because he works at me with single-minded determination, pushing me relentlessly higher.
There is no slow buildup. No careful tiptoe toward the edge.
Gabriel drags my pleasure from my body like it’s his to command.
“I’m—I don’t—”
“Mmhmm. I know.” He leans forward and drops a gentle kiss to the corner of my mouth. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
He curls his free hand around my throat, his fingers light as a feather as he holds my attention firmly on him.
“Don’t you feel it?” he whispers, dragging his thumb back and forth over the place where my pulse should be.
“It was fucking inevitable, Darcy. From the first moment I saw you. And you thought I’d let you walk away without a fight?
” He shakes his head, the hand between my legs rubbing roughly.
“Nah,” he whispers. “Where you go, I go, Darcy. That’s how it’s going to be. ”
It’s the flex of his power, his uncompromising stare, the press of his adoration and the heat of his body. It’s his conviction that this is right. This is his and mine. This belongs to us. This is something we deserve to have.
It sends me into a tailspin. The first piece of straw catching before an inferno sweeps me into a blaze.
He dips his mouth to mine and catches all the wild sounds I make as I come, unbearable heat unraveling like a ribbon through the center of me.
It starts where his hand works between my legs and spreads outward.
My trembling thighs. The flare of my hips.
My hands gripping at his bare skin like I’ll float away without him holding me here.
The shadows lurking in the corners of the room start to move as I come and come and come, the light on the end table flickering before going out with a sharp pop.
When I finally stop shaking, Gabriel hums, tracing barely there patterns on the soft skin of the inside of my thighs.
“Do you get it yet?” He drops a kiss to the curve of my jaw. “I’m not leaving you without a fight.”
I nod and reach for him, dragging my palms down his chest while I tip my mouth under his. He’s so solid. So big. So warm.
“Darcy,” he groans when I push at his jeans. “Please. I need you now.”
I nod, my hands already working at his button and fly. I shove them down as much as I can, his cock thick and hard against the slope of my belly. I grip him and stroke once, just to watch the way his eyes slip shut.
He props himself above me and grabs my hand with his. I think he’s going to pull me away, but he just fits his fingers over mine, gripping tighter, making us stroke him together. His head is angled down, watching, his dark curls toppling over his forehead.
“Look at us,” he pants. He lets go of my hand and grips my thigh instead, pulling it wider, making it easier for the both of us to see. My magic feels like it’s swirling, my fingertips tingling with the need to let it go.
“I need—” I shudder, and shadows curl over the bed, brushing over the band of my underwear and his. Our clothes evaporate like smoke over water, leaving us bare. Gabriel huffs a laugh and I smile. “Inside,” I tell him.
“Yes,” he agrees.
He doesn’t go slow. He doesn’t work me up to it. He sinks inside of me with one smooth thrust, rolling his hips in a rhythm that’s immediately sharp and punishing.
Finally. This is Gabriel when he lets himself want.
And it’s good. It’s so good.
“Knew it would be like this with you,” he grunts. His tattoos are glowing brighter now, a light sheen of sweat against his chest and neck. He stares down at me, sparks dancing behind his eyes. “Fuck,” he breathes. “I can’t—”
I hum and the sound seems to rattle through my bones. Every part of my body feels tight. I can’t stop touching his skin. Holding him close. I let my eyes shut as he presses me further into the mattress, his hips biting against the inside of my thighs.
“Don’t.” His hand slips under my hair, and he grips the back of my neck. “I want you to look at me.”
I blink open my eyes, half-lidded and hazy.
Gabriel smiles, breathless, his shoulders tense as he works his body against mine. “Yeah. Like that.”
“Bossy.”
He laughs. “Sweetheart, you’ve got no idea.”
I roll my hips and his laugh trips into a moan. My magic wrenches free from its loose leash at the sound of it, my shadows curling around my fingers and over the strong planes of his back.
“There you are,” he says, his mouth against my neck. “Stay here. Stay right here with me.”
He keeps repeating it as he moves over me. As my nails dig into his skin. As his wings explode from his back and he groans so loud the bed frame shakes. A picture frame falls off the wall, and I sink my teeth against his collarbone.
I come just like that, curled around him like a vine, holding on to him with both hands.
He adjusts us as I float down, sinking back onto his heels and draping me over his lap. I trace my fingers over his shoulders and the tops of his wings. The strong lines of his face. He stares up at me like I’m something to be worshipped.
“It’s okay,” I whisper, grinding my hips back and forth. He’s so much deeper like this. I can feel him everywhere.
His fingers dig into my skin. “Stay with me,” he demands.
I nod and he buries his face in my neck, his hands around my rib cage, urging me up and down against him as he chases his pleasure. He uses me like a toy. Like his favorite one. Like I’m something that’s been made solely for his pleasure.
When he comes, it’s with a groan that shakes the windows. His wings spread wide and then curl around us, wrapping us in a cocoon of dark.
I drag my fingers through his hair and brush my mouth against his temple.
“I’ll stay,” I promise. “All my minutes. Every last one.”
He nods, silent. But his arms tighten around my middle, and I know he knows I’ve given him the only answer I’m capable of.
I won’t push him away again. I can’t. I’m not strong enough to deny either of us this last bit of selfishness.
But it doesn’t change the truth. I still owe Gideon a life.
And I refuse to drag Gabriel down with me.