Page 91 of Vicious Temptation
It hurts, and I know I’ll be sore tomorrow, but I don’t care. It feels good, too, having him inside of me like this, filling me, the two of us as close as two people can be. I cling to him a little tighter, soaking in the sensations, the feeling of his heated skin against mine, the brush of his chest hair against my breasts, the soft curls of his hair against my fingertips. The swollen, throbbing fullness of his cock anchoring him inside of me.
I shiver, clenching around him, and Gabriel moans.
“Fuck, Bella, if you keep doing that—god, you feel so fucking good.”
I bite my lip, looking up at him. “Have you done this before?” The question comes out before I can stop it, and Gabriel looks at me confusedly for a moment.
“Sex? Bella, I?—”
“No.” I shake my head, shifting under him, which drags another moan from his lips. “Been—someone’s first.”
Gabriel lets out a ragged sigh. “Bella, the last thing I want to do is talk about other women while I’m inside of you?—”
Something twists in my chest. “Just tell me,” I whisper, and he reaches up, brushing a tear that I hadn’t realized was there away from the corner of my eye.
“No,” Gabriel murmurs. “I’ve never been the first before. And even if I had, it wouldn’t be like this, Bella. Being your first is—something else.”
He leans in, his lips pressing softly against mine, his tongue sliding into my mouth as he begins to move. He starts to fuck me in long, slow strokes that leave me trembling, pleasure building around the pain, until my nails are digging into his shoulders, and I feel like I can’t get close enough to him.
“I’ll try to make you come again,” he breathes, angling himself so that his pelvis is grinding against my clit with every thrust. “I’m so close, Bella. You feel so good, I can’t last much longer?—”
He already made me come twice. I wouldn’t have anything to complain about if there wasn’t a third. But I can feel it building, tighter and tighter, as Gabriel slides into me again and again, his mouth dragging over mine, down my throat, over my collarbone as he moans my name. I feel him stiffen inside of me, feel the throbbing in the moment before he thrusts once more, grinding against me as he groans aloud.
“I’m coming—oh fuck, Bella?—”
I arch underneath him, fingers tangling in his hair as I cry out, too, the thought of him coming inside of me and the feeling of his body rocking into mine sending me spiraling over the edge. I gasp his name against his lips, writhing under him, hot tears welling behind my eyes at the overwhelming pleasure and emotion of it all. It’s so much, almost too much—and I wrap myself around him, wanting to prolong it, to enjoy all of this for as long as I possibly can.
But it has to end eventually. Gabriel gives me one more soft kiss, sliding out of me, and I gasp at the sensation. Everything feels too sensitive, and he carefully moves away, going to the bathroom briefly before he returns. He’s still naked, and I stare at him as he walks towards the bed. I can’t imagine ever seeing a more gorgeous man. He’s sculpted to perfection, every inch of him, and as he lays back down in bed next to me, tugging down the covers, I can’t stop looking.
I already want him again. Even though this is supposed to be a one-and-done. I thought that would be all I wanted, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. It feels like I’ve been woken up, lit on fire, and I want him to teach me so much more. I want him over and over, for as many nights as I can have him.
Not love, I tell myself firmly. Just lust. But that kind of lust wasn’t part of the deal, either.
Gabriel reaches down, dragging his finger over my hip. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice this before,” he murmurs, tracing the rose tattoo there. “I guess I was so caught up in everything else.” He smiles, glancing up at me. “There’s got to be a story here.”
“There is,” I admit. “I went out for my eighteenth birthday with Clara. We told my father we were having a sleepover, but she had her own apartment by then. We snuck into a club, got drunk, and got matching tattoos. He never found out.”
“Rebel.” Gabriel traces it again, and my skin prickles. “I like that about you. You don’t let anyone tell you how to live your life.”
“I did, for a while.” I bite my lip. “In some ways, I always have. I just managed to rebel in little ways. But I couldn’t have gotten this far without your help.”
“My pleasure.” Gabriel chuckles, a clear innuendo in his voice, and wraps an arm around me, pulling me closer as he tugs the blankets back over us. His naked body nestles over mine, warm and solid. “Sleep here tonight,” he murmurs, his voice already drowsy.
I know it will make it harder to walk away in the morning. But I’m warm and comfortable, and I don’t want to get up. I’ve never been held like this, and I was afraid that I never would be. But the weight of Gabriel’s arm over me makes me feel safe, not trapped. Protected, instead of caged. The heat of his body sinking into mine feels like a warm blanket on a cold night, and I can’t help but think that I could never get enough of it, if I had this forever. And I want to stay right here, at least for tonight.
I want to lie here in his arms because, for the first time, I feel like I could fall asleep without my pills, and not have nightmares. Like I could get a full, normal night’s sleep for the first time in months.
I close my eyes, and all I dream about is Gabriel.
27
GABRIEL
She’s asleep almost immediately, breathing soft and deep, the kind of sleep I’ve never seen her manage unmedicated before. I can’t help the jolt of satisfaction I feel at that. The woman lying in my arms feels a million miles from the terrified version of Bella, who woke up screaming from nightmares just a short time ago. And her tenacity, her perseverance, make me all the more impressed by her.
I’m exhausted, but sleep doesn’t come as easily to me as it does to Bella. I want to lie here, memorizing the feeling of her pressed up against me, her warm, slender body curving into mine. It’s been so long since I’ve had this. Since I’ve gotten to fall asleep with someone else this close to me. Since I’ve held someone in the aftermath of intimacy and felt them falling asleep in my arms.
I want to remember all of it—her soft breathing, the brush of her hair tumbling over my shoulder, the silky dampness of her skin under my fingers. All of it, as impactful to me as the feeling of being inside of her was, the act of finally teaching her what it means to take pleasure from sex, instead of pain.