As his hand stroked her sex, his other hand caressed her body.
“These…” he murmured, cupping her breasts. “I wish to lie on them day and night. I wish to lick them until you ache further. I wish to kiss up the valley between them, finding my way right back to your mouth. Your body was envisioned by Aphrodite herself, and you have been gifted to me.”
Sibyl gave a soft moan, both at the way he curled his fingers inside her and at his words.
“Gabriel,” she whispered, but he was already enacting his wish.
His tongue flattened over one nipple, while his hand kneaded the other breast, and Sibyl struggled to stay focused on pumping his length.
She arched against him, not knowing where to seek her pleasure—her breasts or between her legs. But Gabriel’s attentiveness made sure that she did not have to.
He kissed his way down her breasts, paying particular attention to her stomach, her waist, her hips. She had grown curvier after having Rosie and had worried it would make her less desirable, but Gabriel’s length twitched in her hand as he kissed over the softness of her stomach, the dip of her waist.
“You are so perfect that I cannot restrain myself,” he muttered against her hips. He had moved further down such that she had to release him.
“And do not try to tell me that you are not,” he warned, meeting her gaze.
His eyes were heavy and hooded with lust, and Sibyl trusted that look more than his words, more than her doubts, more than her insecurities and fears.
“I will not,” she breathed. “I trust you, Gabriel.”
Gabriel chuckled against her thigh, his teeth grazing her skin. “I have been waiting for that trust.”
“I said it before.”
“I know.” He smiled into another kiss on her other thigh. “But I enjoy hearing it, for you were determined not to trust me at the start. Rightfully so, I suppose.”
“And yet here we are,” she sighed happily, sliding her fingers through his unruly hair.
“Here we are.”
He pushed up to kiss her, and she wrapped her legs around his hips as if her body naturally knew how to hold onto him. Her fingers stroked through his hair as he kissed her breathless, the tip of his length sliding between her legs.
“Sibyl.” He murmured against her lower lip. “Tell me one last time that you want this. That you are ready.”
“I have never been more ready,” she told him, tugging on his hair. “I need you so much, Gabriel, that I fear I will do something foolish if I do not have you insid?—”
Her words broke into a breathless giggle as he finally slipped inside her. As soon as he breached her, she was gone, lost to the fullness, her hips lifting as if to draw him in further.
She had experienced a quick coupling once, but even that had not been like this. That time had been hurried, clinical, and Sibyl had barely taken a breath before it was over.
This was different.
Gabriel held her gaze as he slid deeper into her, inch by inch, watching her face for any signs of discomfort. And therewasan ache, an acute awareness of being penetrated, but the pleasure eventually overtook it.
“Is this all right?” Gabriel asked, his voice tight with restraint.
“It is—it is heaven,” she breathed, laughing at her own silly desire.
“Youare heaven, my dear Sibyl.” Gabriel cupped her face in one hand while bracing the other above her head.
He kissed her over and over, as if he were trying to steal her breath. He kissed her when he was finally seated to the hilt, and she could only inhale in little gasps through it.
“If it is too much…”
“Itistoo much.” Sibyl giggled. “You are entirely too much. How could one man have so much power?”
He frowned, but she was only teasing him.
