“You have no idea,” he mutters, “how hard it was not to think about this. About you. About how you fall apart when I take my time.”
He returns his mouth to mine, slower than before, claiming me inch by inch. He kisses me until my thoughts blur, until I’m clinging to him, until the only thing I can focus on is how desperately I want more, and how cruelly patient he’s being about giving it.
He pulls back just enough to speak again. “Tell me,” he says softly “Tell me you want me.”
I don’t answer him right away. Instead, I slide my hand up his chest, feeling his breath hitch under my palm. I see surpriseflicker across his features when I don’t give him what he’s expecting.
“Get off me,” I say quietly.
A beat of silence stretches between us as his brows knit together. “What?”
I press my hand to his chest and push. He hesitates for half a second before rolling off of me onto his back, his eyes never leaving mine, curiosity warring with frustration.
I swing my leg over him and settle astride his hips, letting him feel the change in control.
“Fucking hell,” he says when he realizes I’m turning the tables.
“There,” I murmur. “That’s better.”
His hands twitch at his sides like he’s fighting the instinct to grab me, and I love every second of it.
“No hands,” I warn, and he exhales through his nose, jaw tightening, but he obeys and slides them flat against the mattress.
“Good boy,” I purr, leaning forward to kiss him and pull back before he can deepen it. “You don’t get to rush this,” I say, echoing his words back to him.
His blue eyes darken again. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Zalea.”
I smirk, slowly shaking my head. “No,” I say. “I’m just reminding you who’s in control.”
My mouth traces his jaw and his throat, deliberately avoiding anywhere that could give him relief. I take my time, just like he did, dragging my lips over his skin. His breathing turns ragged and he shifts his hips instinctively, but I press down just enough to stop him.
“Stay,” I warn.
He makes a strained sound as he frowns at me. “You’re doing this on purpose.”
“You’re right,” I say simply.
I sit back up, palms resting on his chest, watching him realize he doesn’t get to lead tonight.
“You want to hear me say I want you,” I continue, calmly. “But you already know that, Gabriel.” I lean down, my mouth hovering over his ear. “What you don’t know,” I whisper. “Is how long I’ve wantedthis.”
I roll my hips, deliberately slow, feeling his hard length press against me through his boxers.
“Look at you,” I murmur. “Still trying so hard not to move.”
His jaw clenches tighter, eyes locked on my face. “You’re pushing it.”
I tilt my head. “I didn’t tell you to speak.”
His mouth closes instantly, but there’s no anger, just heat and want. I lean forward, palms pressing into his chest, my mouth hovering just above his, but I don’t kiss him.
“Good,” I say after a moment. “You learn fast.”
His breath stutters at the praise, his fingers curling helplessly into the sheets like he’s holding himself back by force alone and I can’t hold back my grin.
“God,” he exhales. “You’re incredible.”
“Quiet, Gabriel,” I warn.
