How did he live without this? His anger had deprived him of it. Gabe knew deep in his heart that he had hurt this woman.
He grabbed her hair, yanking her head back and slung an arm around her shoulder, angling her up, so he got even deeper.
“Dammit, yes!”
“Take it, Princess,” Gabe commanded.
His balls slapped against her mound; Gabe closed his eyes, feeling the sweat roll between his shoulders.
Dammit, this was so hot. He was going to come in her, any moment.
“Gabe.”
He let go of her hair, his palm clamping over her mouth and nose. “Don’t say my name.”
By the new pool of liquid, he knew she loved that. He pressed his palm harder against her face, her saliva on his palm, feeling her pussy clench around his cock as she mewled, and he hammered hard and fast into her.
Each stroke in her wetness was like dipping into electric fire. All his nerve endings buzzed.
“Yes, whimper for it.”
So damn good.
Her pussy drew him in deeper, fire licking up his spine.
He tilted her neck up, her eyes so dilated, so huge.
He pounded her mercilessly, his hips pushing into her, deeper and deeper. He felt her walls grip him, close around him, her body tense. Under his palm, she screamed, tears running down her face.
If she wanted him, she was going to take it. He drilled through her orgasm and kept going as she cried out, trying to bite his palm.
Ah! This was the rush of dominance he missed. The fucking power and control. Her pussy shook with aftershocks. He kept blazing through them, hearing her pant. Her sharp intake of breath made it sweeter.
“Please, Sir,” came her mumbled plea. He brought his hand away from her mouth and pushed her face down on the pillow.
Fuck, yeah. He didn’t know if her cry was for him to finish and let up on her, but that whisper of pain in her voice drove him over the edge. His orgasm yanked all his muscles, catapulting him into a blaze of pleasure.
Black spots danced behind his eyes as he released in her hot depth.
He let out a groan of his own, releasing his grip on her as he removed himself from her warmth. Ivy shuffled, so her head laid on the pillow, and she looked up at him with her dewy green eyes, leaning forward to kiss him.
He turned his cheek, running his hand along her jaw.
“Now, can you say you’re sorry?”
Like a light going out, she frowned. She threw the blankets off and glared at him.
“So much for putting it behind us for one night. No, Gabe, I am not sorry. I will not apologize for doing what I believed was right. I’ll take the couch.”
Damn her. Why couldn’t she admit she was wrong? Why didn’t she want what they had?
“No. I need to be out early. I’ll take it.” He didn’t want to leave her. He wanted to cuddle her, stroke her, and tell her it would be okay. But she never wanted to be touched after sex, and by the anger in her tone, she didn’t want that now.
Her harsh laser stare followed him as he grabbed the pillow and blanket and closed the bedroom door.
CHAPTER TWELVE – IVY
Hesaidonenight.
