“I don’t need safety,” I growl, free hand sliding beneath his shirt to find skin. “I need you.”
Gabriel pulls back far enough to look at me in thedim light. “Is that what you want? Me? Or would any body help you forget right now?”
The question hits harder than a physical blow, stealing breath. My hand flattens on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath warm skin.
“You,” I admit, the truth clawing its way out of me. “Only you.”
His pupils dilate, swallowing hazel in a wash of black.
“Let me show you.” His hand releases my wrist to cup my jaw, thumb tracing my bottom lip. “Release doesn’t have to come with pain.”
We move toward the bedroom in a halting path, steps interrupted by kisses that grow less frantic, less punishing with each point of contact. Gabriel backs through the doorway, guiding without pushing, his body a magnet I’m irresistibly drawn to.
Gabriel pauses at the bed, fingers toying with the hem of his shirt before pulling it over his head in one smooth motion. His slacks follow, pooling at his feet, leaving him naked in the darkness.
He waits, making no move to remove my clothing, offering me the choice. The control. I pull my shirt off, each inch of uncovered skin a conscious decision rather than a frantic stripping. My pants follow, and I stand before him, scarred andtrembling and painfully aware of every mark on my body.
Gabriel’s gaze travels over me without rushing, and when his hand lifts, I flinch, not from fear of his touch, but from fear of what it might reveal.
What if he sees right through me to the broken boy beneath? What if now is when he realizes how damaged I truly am?
He pauses, hand suspended between us. “We can stop.”
The offer hangs in the air, genuine and undemanding. He would stop now, walk away without complaint, and go to sleep on the couch.
I shake my head, a single trembling motion. “Don’t stop.”
Gabriel sits on the bed, then lies back, leaving me to join him on my own terms. I climb onto the mattress, body moving with a will separate from my racing thoughts. His hands find my hips as I straddle him, the position familiar but the energy between us transformed.
His mouth finds mine again, the kiss slower this time, deeper. One hand slides up my back to cradle the nape of my neck, fingertips threading through my hair. The other traces patterns along my side, each touch light enough to send shivers across my skin.
His hands continue their exploration, moving lower, over my hips, down my thighs. When his fingers brush the raised scars on my inner thighs, I flinch, muscles locking in automatic defense.
Gabriel freezes. “Too much?”
“No.” I force myself to breathe through the instinctive panic. “Keep going.”
His touch returns, gentler than before, tracing each scar with a reverence that threatens to break me. No disgust, no pity, just acknowledgment of pain survived.
Layer by layer, my defenses fall away beneath his careful hands. The urgency that drove me earlier quiets, replaced with a deeper desire that’s more frightening in its intimacy.
Gabriel takes his time, reading my body’s responses.
When he reaches for the bottle of lube, I track the movement, my pulse spiking, but I don’t shove him down, don’t switch our positions. As he slicks his fingers and pushes them inside me, I tense not from pain but because I’m allowing someone access to the most guarded parts of myself.
Gabriel pauses, waiting for me to relax and nod for him to continue.
“I’ve got you,” he whispers, drawing me down formore kisses as his fingers move inside me, seeking out my prostate.
The first brush over that sensitive spot pulls a jolt from me, and Gabriel soothes my nerves with more drugging kisses while his free hand strokes my dick, keeping me hard and deep in the haze of pleasure.
When he pushes another finger inside, the burn of being stretched sizzles up my spine, and my back arches, my hips bearing down on his fingers.
“That’s it.” Gabriel kisses and sucks on my jawline. “Take what you need.”
“Fuck.” I grip his shoulders, hips rocking, my dick sliding in and out of his hand. “Give me more.”
He adds a fourth finger, and a moan tears from my throat. Blindly, I wrap my hand around his leaking cock, pumping his shaft, and he groans, his hips thrusting upward.
