Gabriella #3
Oh, that’s different. Her brain tried to catch up with the speed of the descent she was falling, but was failing.
Her moan reverberated through her entire body, sending jolts of pleasure cascading downward as she drenched the borrowed clothes, her thighs pressing together against the ache building between them.
She was panting, hands roaming the hard planes of his body with a greediness she'd never allowed herself before—running her palms over his chest, his shoulders, the column of his neck, learning the layout of his body.
Methodically. Hungrily, as if she were starving and he was a feast.
“More,” she pleaded. Her arms wrapped around his neck, the old bed creaking its protest beneath them as he moved over her. “Touch me Mateo. Kiss me. Lick me. Tell me everything you want. Give me more,” she begged, the words scraped raw from somewhere she hadn't known existed.
“Fuck, you are gorgeous, Gabriella. Everything about you. Your heart, your joy, your passion. Not to mention, your body is sinful.” He bit down where her neck met her shoulder, and she let out a small, pained gasp that dissolved immediately into something else entirely—something she felt in her toes, her fingertips, the backs of her knees.
No one has ever made me feel like this.
“Yes, that's it. Please.” She squirmed under him, her hips tilting towards his, her body making its requests without thought.
He sat up, removing his shirt in a single, efficient motion that revealed the dark, muscled landscape of his torso in the lantern light, and began to pull off Gabriella's shorts.
Lifting her by her ass, he palmed her cheeks with an appreciative groan that vibrated through the close air of the room.
“God, you fit my hands perfectly. I always loved watching you walk away.”
Gabriella laughed at that, the sound bouncing between the muddied walls. “Is that why you would walk behind me?”
“One of the many reasons,” he murmured, his voice thick and warm like honey being poured on her. He kissed her again, just as dizzying and savage as before, then pulled away. He flashed her a wicked grin before he dove down, spread apart her legs, and took her in his mouth without warning.
Gabriella nearly vaulted off the bed.
Her cry echoed in the room as she rushed to cover her mouth, the sound muffled behind her palm, her eyes wide and streaming. The jungle still hummed. The camp still laughed and drank beyond the thin walls.
The whole world is carrying on, she thought wildly, while he does this to me?
“Oh, god, wait, Mateo!” she pleaded between biting her knuckles in restraint, her free hand fisting in the rough blanket beneath her.
He made a questioning noise against her—not stopping, not even slowing—his tongue pushing deeper as her walls contracted around him, her body beginning to shake with the violence of pleasure she hadn't allowed herself in so very long.
A teasing lick and nibble of her clit left her legs twitching, and her heel pressing helplessly into the mattress. Did he just bite me?
“Mateo,” she hissed, caught between pleasure and the last shredded remnants of her sanity. “It's been almost a year. Can you please be gentle?” She felt heat rise at the confession, the tips of her ears on fire.
Pleasure-drunk eyes lifted to meet hers from between her legs, holding her gaze for a long, devastating moment before he pulled away.
A trail of him and her glistened between them as a slow, knowing smile lit his face.
When he spoke, his voice roughened to gravel.
“I don't plan on ever going easy on you, Gabriella. I will mark you and fuck you until you can’t sit or walk straight. At the end of tonight, my brand will be permanently etched into your very being with my cock buried in your sweet cunt until morning.”
She couldn't breathe. She stared into his eyes as her chest heaved with the effort of processing words her body had apparently already decided to accept completely.
“And that's it? I don't have a say?”
He chuckled at her, low and satisfied, the sound doing absolutely nothing to help her composure. “Maybe in how long you ride me for.”
She laughed. She couldn’t help but laugh.
This is happening. She may have been kidnapped, dragged through a jungle, and nearly assaulted at a hot spring, but she was choosing this.
Choosing him. The man who had stolen her heart without her realizing it—not all at once, not in a single dramatic moment, but slowly, the way the tide comes in.
The way a fresh-hatched turtle finds the ocean.
He found me, she thought. Even when he was lying, something in him was looking for me.
“Fine, but make good on that promise,” she said as she took off the shirt he’d given her. Her breath caught as the warm air of the room settled against her bare skin. The sudden self-consciousness arrived swiftly, her hands moving instinctively inward before Mateo's voice stopped her cold.
“God, you've got perfect fucking breasts. I can't wait to come on them.”
She sputtered, a startled laugh breaking free once more as heat rose from the top of her ears down to the tips of her toes.
Was sex always this much fun and joyous?
Despite how erotic they were being, despite how much she was teetering, everything this man was doing was so sinfully sexy and sweet.
The complete opposite of the serious exchanges she had.
The rawness of it, the complete and unashamed want in his voice—nothing about it resembled the clumsy, obligatory attention Justin had occasionally paid her body.
This was something else. Something that made her feel seen in a way that had nothing to do with simply being looked at and everything to do with being wanted.
“Then prove it, Mateo.” She took one breast in her hand, rolling the nipple between her thumb and finger, knowing her body well enough to coax it to a taut bead. The look on his face was worth every shred of vulnerability it cost her. “Make me come, please.”
“For you, anything,” he growled, descending again with a focused, devastating intent. “Tell me how badly you need to come.”
His lips and teeth grazed her clit, pain and pleasure twisting into something she was rapidly becoming addicted to.
“Oh god, Mateo. I need it. So badly. Please.” His fingers found her entrance and slid in, curling, applying pressure to her walls with a precision that made her wonder wildly what else those hands were capable of.
“That’s a good girl. Let me take care of you. I’ll show you exactly what you want, Gabriella.”
He was learning her, responding to her body’s cues and her various gasps and moans—noises no man had ever elicited from her before—and edging her until she was on the brink of orgasm.
“Yes, god yes …” she breathed, body drawn taut as a wire, playing with her own nipples as he worked her towards the edge. She was almost there, painfully close, the pleasure cresting in great warm waves. “So close.”
And like the devil she thought him to be, he pulled away.
Gabriella cried out. Fresh tears gathered as she reached for him. “No! Wait, what?”
He gripped her wrist, pressing it against his hardened cock and rocked against her hand. “I want you to ride me and come on my cock, tica.”
God, yes she wanted that too but she had been so close. It was hard not to whine to him about it.
“You said you’d take care of me, Mateo.”
“I did. And I plan to, by claiming you and filling you up. You want that don’t you?”
She nodded her head vigorously, willing to admit she would say yes to anything this man demanded of her. “Please Mateo,” she begged, her fingers tightening around the length of him.
“And you beg so prettily. That’s so good. But right now, my focus is to remove every existence of other men from you except the imprint of my cock. Do you hear me, Gabriella?”
She nodded once more. He watched her with a dark, patient hunger, and when he noticed her frustrated tears beginning to build, his expression shifted—something more humane surfacing through the heat, sudden and genuine.
“I’ve got you, Gabriella.” He pulled her hand back to his lips, kissing the knuckles with reverence.
“I was afraid that if I didn't stop …” His hesitancy in their shared breath said the rest. She felt his unease, the trembling edge of his restraint, and she understood.
He's holding on by a thread too. The realization softened her.
She smiled up at him, wet-eyed and exasperated and more certain than she'd been of anything in years. “Mateo, I'm frustrated and a little annoyed, but …” she paused and held his gaze. “If you listen and lie down, I’ll ride your cock until you’re begging me to stop.”
His smile lit the entire room, cracking through the darkness like dawn through a canopy, his anxiety dissolving into something open and warm and so purely him that her chest ached. “With an offer like that, who would ever say no?”
He pulled away, stripping off the remainder of his clothes with an efficiency that left her mouth dry, then helped her move to the side before stretching out beneath her.
The lantern light painted his body in gold and shadow—the breadth of his tatted chest, the dark trail of hair below his navel, the controlled tension running through every line of him.
His cock jutted forward, thick and flushed and far larger than she had seen before. Gabriella's eyes widened.
Right. She swallowed. That is going to be … different.
“Stay still,” she whispered and crawled over him, settling herself above him with a deliberateness that made his jaw clench. He watched her with an arched brow—amused, barely contained—until pleasure overtook his face as she sank onto him.
Oh! The world dissolved. Nothing else existed aside from him inside of her. Oh … my.