She obeys, and I finish binding her wrists with the length of scarlet silk and lace. I guide both of her arms up over her head, resting them on the pillow. “Keep them there, or I won’t let you come. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” Her answer is little more than a gasp.
I reward her with a slow, deep kiss before moving over her body. She pants and shivers under my mouth as I kiss a path from her mouth to her neck. I move lower, tasting every inch of her from the tight buds of her nipples, to the sweet hollow of her navel.
As I savor the tender skin at her hip, I slide my fingers into her wet, silky cleft. I want to take it slow, wrestle back some of my fleeting control, but my need for her is too wild.
I press my hands to her thighs and spread her open to my fevered gaze. Then I lower my head and claim herwith my mouth. She moans, bucking against the sensual onslaught of my tongue and lips. “Please,” she gasps. “Oh, God . . . Gabe, please.”
“Please what?” I murmur against her tender flesh.
“I want . . . I want you inside me now.” She shudders as I continue to lick and suck at her sex. Her shoulders come off the pillows and for an instant I think she’s going to break her promise to keep her hands where I’ve placed them, but she falls back down on a groan. “Oh, God. I need to come so bad, Gabe.”
Her desperation is swiftly becoming my own. I tongue her swollen clit, arousal ruling both of us now. My face is wet from her juices, my senses swamped with desire for her. Every nerve ending in my body is lit up and sizzling, every tendon and sinew ratcheted to the breaking point. And my cock has never been harder, ready to explode.
“Come for me now, baby.”
That’s all it takes. With my name a strangled cry, she breaks on my tongue in wave after powerful wave. I want to savor every hard tremor and nuanced vibration, but my need is too urgent now.
I flip her over to her stomach, drawing her hips back until she’s on her knees before me, her head down on the pillows in a nest of her loose dark hair, her bound wrists stretched above her.
“Christ, you’re gorgeous like this. Tell me you enjoy this. Tell me this is what you want.”
“Yes,” she gasps, her body still thrumming under my fingers. “I want this. I want you, Gabe . . . now.”
I stroke my hand down the length of her spine, from the top of her nape to the seam of her sweet, rounded ass and the drenched, molten haven below it. I move inbehind her and guide my cock to the mouth of her sex. I drive home in one long, hard thrust, too far gone to even think I have the ability or the will to take things any slower now.
A possessive growl unfurls deep inside me as I pump within the tight, hot walls of her body. “Fuck, Eve.” My voice is guttural and ragged, my release building like a tidal wave. “You’re mine.Mine.”
“Yes. Oh, God, Gabriel . . . yes.”
“You belong to me. No matter what,” I snarl. “Say it.”
“I am yours.” The pledge gusts out of her on a sharp sigh. “No matter what, Gabe. I belong only to you.”
Her reply is enough to snap the leash on my control, but it is the feel of her sex convulsing around me in climax that sends me hurtling over the edge. She cries out with her release, and I slam into her feverishly, savagely, my body tensing with every rapid pound of my hips against her backside. My orgasm erupts in a scalding rush.
I’ve barely finished coming as I reposition her on her back and strip the bindings off her wrists. I sink between her legs again, picking up a tempo that’s even more relentless, more fevered. She wraps her arms around me, her thighs hooked around my hips.
“Don’t stop,” she whispers. “Please, Gabe . . . don’t stop.”
I couldn’t if I tried. The white-hot explosion of pleasure is still rippling through every cell in my body, but I want more. Need more.
With this woman, I know I won’t be content with anything less than all of her.
25
~ Evelyn ~
The next morning, after showering and brushing my teeth in the apartment’s sole bathroom, I pad barefoot in a fresh camisole and yoga pants toward the small kitchen, where the aromas of brewing coffee and sizzling bacon make my stomach growl with interest.
That’s not the only thing that stokes my hunger.
Gabe must have been up for a while. Long enough that he’s already clean and has breakfast more than half under way. He pivots from the stove as I approach, alerted to me even though my steps are silent on the beige thick-pile carpet of the hall.
Holding a black spatula in his hand, he is naked except for the low-slung, gray sweatpants he wears, all of those delicious planes and roped muscles of his body bared for my appreciation. As for the bulge of his cock,the baggy fabric hardly conceals its thick, heavy outline. And the loose waistband of his pants only accentuates the obvious, sagging enticingly on the lean cut of his hips.
I can’t imagine ever tiring of seeing him like this. The fact that he’s cooking breakfast for me and has a pot of coffee waiting only makes me adore him even more.
