23. Gabriel
Gabriel
I don’t waste a second. The instant Alexis’s lips part under mine, I take the kiss deeper, pouring all those weeks of pent-up hunger into it. The fire that’s been building between us has finally caught, and now that it has, I don’t think it’s ever going out.
There was no rational business reason for me to buy Liora—especially at the astronomical price I just paid for it. But right now, I feel like it’s the best thing I’ve ever spent my considerable wealth on.
Because it got me this.
This moment, with the woman who’s been working her way under my skin since before the day we said “I do.”
The only thing that matters right now is Alexis, and making her mine.
Truly mine. She wants me to teach her about sex, so I’m going to show her everything I know and then some—here, and a hundred other places, until she can’t remember a version of herself that didn’t know exactly how good this could feel.
My hands find her waist and grip hard, and the heat of her body against mine sparks my cock right back to life. The minutes I spent away from her, offering an obscene amount of money to the owner and settling things with the staff, felt like an eternity, and I ached for her the whole walk back.
She gasps against my mouth, her fingers twisting in my shirt, and the desperation in her movements tears through what little control I have left.
I lift her by the waist, and she yelps in surprise as I carry her to the nearest table.
It’s still set with expensive cutlery and half-finished plates the last customers left behind, and I sweep it all aside with one arm.
Glass shatters, the sound loud in the quiet room.
I don’t give a shit about the mess though.
All that matters is getting my gorgeous wife undressed and getting my hands on her.
I set her on the edge of the table, and she looks up at me with wide eyes, her skin already pricked with goosebumps.
She watches me peel her pants and panties down and off, and when I part her knees and see how wet she already is, it takes everything I’ve got to hold myself together.
I drag my tongue across my lower lip, inhaling deeply as her scent fills my nostrils. “Do you have any idea how fucking beautiful you are?”
Her pupils dilate, and her breath hitches when I kneel in front of her and reach out to tease her with my fingers, parting her folds and baring her glistening clit to my gaze.
She grabs the edge of the table, her knuckles going white, and traps her lip between her teeth as if she’s holding a sound back.
I still my hand as I hold her gaze. “Don’t be quiet, sunshine. I want to hear you. Tell me how good it feels.”
I ease one finger inside her, then slowly add another, stretching her a little without taking it too far.
She exhales sharply and clenches around me, and a groan slips out of her when I curl my fingers and draw them back, finding her g-spot.
Her back arches and her eyelids droop, her dark lashes fluttering.
“Oh my god. Holy shit.”
Despite my urging to get loud, she says it so quietly that if this place weren’t dead empty, I’d never catch it. That’s fine. I plan on having her scream my name before I’m through—loud enough to ring off every wall in here, so there’s never any question who’s making her feel like this.
I keep teasing her, massaging her g-spot and teasing her clit, taking my time with it as I tell her, “Shirt off. Bra too.”
She seems so lost in the pleasure of what I’m doing to her that it takes her a second to move, then she tugs at her shirt with jerky movements, yanking it over her head before disposing of her bra.
I track every action with hungry eyes, savoring every new inch of skin as it comes into view.
Every part of her is perfect. It’s hard to believe no man has ever treated her the way she deserves, but I’m so damn glad it gets to be me.
I wouldn’t trust anyone else to do it right.
When she starts working her hips against my hand, silently begging for more, I slide my fingers free and bring them to her mouth. Her lips part on instinct, and I drag the wetness across them, watching her tongue chase the taste of her own arousal.
“Good girl,” I rasp. “See? There’s nothing I need to teach you. You already know.”
She moans, and the sound is so fucking hot that I have to cover her mouth with mine, drinking it up, devouring it.
My cock jumps again, fully hard and straining toward her.
But this is the moment I’ve been fantasizing about for weeks, and now that I have her in front of me, naked and wanton and mine, I plan to take my time.
My hands move up to her breasts, cupping and kneading them as I kiss her.
She moans into it, her head tipping back, and I nip at her lower lip before following the line of her throat with my mouth, kissing down to her collarbone.
She tastes as good as she smells, like honey and vanilla and amber, better than any of the fancy desserts on Liora’s menu.
As my hands move to roam over her again, tracing the curve of her waist and gripping her thighs, one of them brushes something cold, and I realize there’s a dish of ice cream with handmade chocolate sauce drizzled on top still sitting on the table.
I glance over at it briefly, and a wicked thought fills my mind when I realize it hasn’t even been touched.
Whoever ordered it was clearly asked to leave by the staff before they got to indulge in their dessert.
Their loss, my gain.
I rise to my feet and pick it up with a sinful grin.
“Lean back a bit,” I instruct Alexis.
She does, and I hold the dish over her chest, tilting it until the melting cream and a thread of chocolate slide toward the rim. She watches with huge eyes, her chest heaving, as it gathers and then slowly slips over the edge.
She jumps and gasps when the first cold drop lands on her breast, but her gaze snaps right back to mine—and what I find there is a hunger I didn’t know she had in her. I tip the dish further, spilling a little more over her pale skin as I watch it run down her breasts and onto her stomach.
“So fucking sexy,” I murmur. “You look good enough to eat.”
Lowering my mouth to her cleavage, I lick a slow stripe upward through the sticky ice cream and chocolate, then drag across to one nipple and draw it in, circling it with my tongue. It tightens instantly, and she hisses, the sound shifting into a needy groan.
Fierce desire roars under my skin as I work my way across her chest, feeling almost drunk on the sweetness mixed with the warm taste of her skin.
Goosebumps chase my tongue everywhere it goes, and when I close my mouth over her other nipple and graze it lightly with my teeth, she cries out—much louder than her earlier muffled sound.
“You’re the best fucking thing I’ve ever tasted,” I groan against her skin as she mewls, arching into my touch.
I keep going, pouring the half-melted ice cream and chocolate over her breasts before lapping it off her skin.
She must love the contrast between the cold and the heat, because she’s starting to unravel, any shyness melting away as she leans back farther, arching her back as if presenting her breasts to me like a feast. I can’t resist wrapping my lips around them and sucking hard, deep pulls that make her hands fly to the back of my head, her nails digging into my scalp as she whimpers my name.
The effort of staying upright must become too much for her, because she falls back against the table after a while, pulling me down over her. I lick away the last bit of ice cream and finally abandon her breasts, diving in for another ravenous kiss.
I can’t fucking believe we’re here. None of it feels fully real.
My wife is stretched out beneath me, flushed and glowing, and it’s almost more than I can take. I break the kiss and hold her gaze as I find her pussy again, starting off with two fingers this time and going straight for the spot I know will elicit more of those incredible sounds.
“This place should put you on the menu,” I murmur, my fingers moving faster as she bucks against my hand.
“Nothing else will ever taste as good. But then again, I’d never let another soul inside this place if they did.
Because that taste? It’s just for me, sunshine.
As long as we’re married, no one else gets to taste you like this.
No one gets to see you like this. No one gets to know what a dirty, perfect girl you are besides me. ”
She shakes her head, then nods, her breath coming faster. “Yes. I mean, no. No one.”
I can’t help but laugh roughly. I get the sense that all of the blood has moved south in her body, abandoning her brain to fend for itself as she struggles to form a coherent sentence. I know how that feels, because I feel the same damn way.
“That’s right,” I tell her, not quite sure where the primal possessiveness I’m feeling is coming from, but unable to deny it. “Not a fucking soul.”
“Please…” She squirms on the table, reaching down to grip my wrist as if urging me on. “Gabriel.”
“Please what?”
“P-please—make me come.”
Her pussy clenches around my fingers as she speaks, as if her body is making the case for her.
The fact that she needs it badly enough to beg for it, to use her words like that, makes me want to drop everything and bury my cock inside her right now.
But I want to do this right. I want her first time to be something she remembers for the rest of her life, for all the right reasons.
I want her to fucking love it.
So I withdraw my fingers from her, drop to my knees, and pull the tablecloth toward me, dragging her right to the edge.
More dishes slide off and smash on the floor, and I don’t spare them a thought, because now she’s right where I need her, open and glistening in the bright sunlight streaming through the windows, and there’s no holding back anymore.
I bury my face between her legs and lick her the way I’ve been imagining since she went down on me in that bathroom, reveling in the taste and smell and feel of her.
The breath she was holding rushes out, and a fresh wave of wetness spills across my tongue as she arches up off the table. When I circle her clit and slide a finger into her at the same time, the cry that leaves her mouth fills the whole room.
“That’s it,” I mutter with satisfaction. “Scream for me. Let it all out.”
Her eyes are squeezed shut, but she blinks them open and lifts her head a little, staring down the length of her body at me as she rolls her hips, riding my finger and grinding against my tongue.
“Oh my god,” she breathes. “Oh fuck!”
“You close?” I demand, barely lifting my lips away from her swollen flesh to ask the question.
“Yes. Yes—oh fuck, please—”
“Then come for me, wife.”
“Gabriel!”
My name is the loudest fucking sound she’s made all day, and it sounds so damn good that I feel almost lightheaded as I keep working her with my mouth and my hand, helping her ride out each wave of pleasure as her body jerks and her legs try to clamp down on either side of my head.
It takes several long beats for her muscles to relax, and as her thighs fall slackly to the sides again, I press one final kiss to her clit before surging to my feet. I shove my pants and boxer briefs down and drag a fist up and down my cock once, just enough to take the edge off.
“We’re not done, are we?” Alexis whispers, gazing up at me.
“No, sunshine.” My voice is tight. “We’re not done. Not by a long shot.”
Her smile is a fucking sight to behold, hungry and fierce as she pushes herself up and reaches for the buttons on my shirt, clawing at them like she can’t stand the thing being in her way another second.
The desire in her eyes makes me feel half out of my mind, like we’ve both come unhinged, and it shuts out everything else.
I pull my shirt over my head and toss it onto a nearby table, then kick free of my pants, boxer briefs, and shoes. Alexis flattens her hand against my chest and drags her fingers down over my pecs and abs, stopping just short of my cock, which jumps in my grip at the proximity of her touch.
“Tell me you want this,” I rasp as I give myself another slow stroke. I already know the answer, but I need to hear it anyway. I want to see the words leave her mouth.
Her delicate throat works as she swallows, holding my eyes.
“I want you,” she breathes, and fuck, that’s an even better answer.