“Shhh, sweetness. It’s okay. It’s alright,” Gabe coos in my ear. “Shatter for me. Break apart. It’s what you need.”
I sob again as my orgasm slams into me from nowhere. My body bears down, taking the thickness of him impossibly deep inside.
“Fuck,” Gabe swears. “Hell, woman. Tighten that little pussy like that around me again and I’ll soak your insides too fast.”
I mumble my reply into his shoulder, my head turned into his arm. He nuzzles into my neck, pressing tender kisses against my throat as his fingers toy my nipples, squeezing and plucking rhythmically.
The pressure I just got rid of rebuilds almost instantly. I hate my body for its attempt at tenacity when I thought it was exhausted. The next orgasm hits me as I squeeze my legs together. Gabe tuts and taps my ankles apart, enjoying himself far too much.
“Is this your reward or my punishment?” I mutter. “I can’t believe I cooked for you.”
He strokes my nipples gently. “Did you say you cooked, sweetness?” he murmurs thoughtfully.
“Yeah.” I snort and moan in the same breath. Not impossible and, I think, quite talented. “I had this stupid idea of you comingh– back, and me feeding you to say thank you. But instead you carved my body up like it was your personal table to eat at, and–shit!”I shriek as he rolls us, pinning me onto my back with my hands over my head beneath one of his, his cock still lodged deep inside me.
“You cooked for me.” Gabe’s forehead rests gently on mine. “After what I did for you?”
“I–yes?” I admit. “It’s stupid. I said that. Let me up,” I beg as tears cloud my vision.
I hate that he can see me like this as the sun crests the horizon, breaking through the haze that has concealed all the truths I hid from myself last night.
I sold myself to this man to prevent another man from killing me.
I gave away the last things about myself that I loved and he will never know or care.
And in that time I convinced myself that I matter to him. That I care about him too.
The truth is that I know nothing about this man and he knows nothing about me, either. All we know about each other is limited to a brief negotiation and last night's marathon round of sex.
My tears fall unhindered as he watches me. I hate myself all the more.
For years I managed not to show any emotion to Oliver. I never let him see me cry. Now, in front of this man I barely know? Here I am, letting everything out. He does me one favour, one thing, and I sell him my dignity along with my soul.
Or my heart.
Oh hell.
I haven’t. I can’t have.
Or maybe I did.
Gabriel Decker appears to have come to the same conclusion as me at the same time.
“Sweetness,” he murmurs in a hushed voice. The thickness lodged inside me swells.
I cry out, an involuntary sound I can’t prevent as he breaks his promise and begins to move.
I should hurt. Everything should ache and burn and tear.
It doesn’t.
Gabe cradles me in his arms like I'm the most precious thing he’s ever seen. He holds me close as I struggle for him, my legs tucked near his hips. I cry out when he reaches down and lifts one of my legs over his shoulders, rearing over me.
“Hold on,” he murmurs. “You can’t hurt me.”
But I can hurt you.
I hear what he doesn’t say, gripping his arms tight as he slams deep into me. My head tosses back, and a darkness that I swear the sun already chased away filters across my vision. My cries are distant as he moves over me, his words faint, though his touch is warm and close.
