Lusty and anguished, he did it again.
What was it going to take for her realize what a bastard he was?
***
Thea was bombarded with sensation. It was like being immersed in music, in a different world where reality was suspended and nothing but feeling existed. She was glad for the cloth covering her eyes; her senses were already overwhelmed, and seeing what was happening would be too much. Here in the darkness, it was easier to let herself go.
To surrender to the wicked percussion of his dominance.
Her hands curled around the cool, smooth back of the bench as Gabriel’s big hand smacked her bottom. The contact wasn’t painful—quite the opposite. Who knew that being spanked would feel sogood? His touch made sparks leap from nerve to nerve. Wherever he made contact, tingling warmth and pleasure spread.
“For God’s sake, Thea, tell me to stop.”
The agitated arousal in his words made her want him even more.
“Give me more, Gabriel,” she whispered.
She heard him curse, and for an instant she feared he meant to stop altogether. Then he growled and branding kisses fell upon her shoulder blades, the undulating length of her spine. Strong hands cupped her bottom, kneading, soothing the stimulated flesh. Stars flashed across the dark field of the blindfold as he suddenly delved lower, into her swollen folds.
“Christ, your pussy is drenched for me.” His words were guttural, disbelieving.
That part of her grew wetter at its naughty name. She gripped the back of the bench, her senses dissolving in a delicious haze as he cupped her, palming her soaking cleft.
“Devil and damn, youlikedbeing spanked by me?”
He was catching on.
Shamelessly, she rubbed herself against his hand, sighing, “Oh, yes.”
“You want my hand here, petting your pussy?”
“Yes, yes,” she gasped.
“And this?” he growled.
His fingers plunged, filling her where she needed him. She moaned, her muscles clenching on the penetration, the fullness shooting fire along her nerves. Then he began to move in deep, masterful lunges that pushed the breath from her lungs.
“Push back on me, princess,” he ordered. “Fuck yourself on my fingers.”
His wicked words made her giddy with arousal. She obeyed, her need mounting as she rode his hand. His groans melded with the slick sounds of their connection, driving her on, making her wild in her pursuit of that vital finish. She’d never felt more alive, her lungs pumping, her skin burning with need. Suddenly, his touch skated over her hidden bud, and the race careened out of her control.
“Your pearl, your cunny belongs to me,” he rasped. “Your pleasure is mine.”
“Yes.”
He circled her pearl in rhythm to his invading touch. “Then come for me now.”
His forceful thrust propelled her over the edge. With a cry, she flew into the glittering horizon. He caught her, one hand muffling her moans as the other coaxed out spasm after soaring spasm.
The blindfold lifted. Floating on a cloud, she gazed up blissfully into his smoldering eyes as he settled her on the bench. Standing before her, he untied his robe and unfastened the fall of his trousers. Her breath caught as he pulled out his manhood: it was ruddy and thick, prominent veins girdling the length. The upthrust shaft visibly pulsed and strained against the confines of his fist.
“Touch me,” he commanded. “Put your hands on my cock.”
She’d thought herself well-read, but tonight her vocabulary was increasing by leaps and bounds. Excitement stirred as she wrapped her fingers around him. It was like holding a lightning bolt: a hot, potent rod that she could barely contain between her palms.
“I like touching you,” she breathed.
Approval and dark wonder heated his eyes. “Then do it harder. Frig me like this.”
