Before I realize what’s happening, he’s lifting my legs, hooking my knees over his broad shoulders as he dives back in.
His tongue presses firm against my clit, circling, flicking hard and fast, his grip locking me in place as he devours me. The pleasure builds back quickly, too intensely, too much, and before I can even stop it, another orgasm blasts through me. I cry out, my body arching, my head falling back into the couch to rest. And once again—Gabriel doesn’t stop.
He drags it out, his tongue slow now, languid, exploring every inch of me like he’s trying to memorize the shape of me. Tasting me. Kissing, licking, sucking, owning. My nipples ache, so painfully tight. My back arches deeper into the couch, but Ican’t focus, can’t think, can’t do anything but let him wreck me.
Before Gabriel, I was always one and done. Maybe that’s just because my ex was the same way. We’d finish, sometimes I wouldn’t at all, and then we’d roll over and go to sleep like checking something off a to-do list.
Gabriel is… not like that. Gabriel treats my body like a challenge he has every intention of winning. Like the number of times that he can make me orgasm is some private game he’s playing with himself, and he refuses to stop until he’s absolutely certain I can’t take another second of it. And the worst or best part is he looks so damn pleased every time I lose control. Like wringing another orgasm out of me is the most satisfying victory he’s ever had, and my protests about how sensitive I am or how I might actually die of dehydration mean absolutely nothing to him.
I need water. I need electrolytes. I need rest. I needmore.
He lifts his head to see me, his lips slick from my orgasm, his breath hot against my pussy.
“Fuck, Gabriel,” I whisper, barely able to speak. My body is still trembling, still pulsing, my limbs heavy and weak. “You weren’t lying about making it up to me.”
His strong arms wrap around me, lifting me like I weigh nothing, and then he’s flipping me around so he can take a seat, placing me on his lap to straddle his thighs.
And his cock—It’s still between us, thick and heavy, so hard it throbs against my stomach and leaks precum there. He looks up at me, his hazel eyes dark, burning, his lips curling in a dangerous smile that tells me he isn’t finished.
“I’ll never lie to you. Might punish you but I won’t lie. Are you ready for a little more? Can you handle another one?”
I look down at him—at that thick, round head, flushed, glistening, squeezed between us. The way the firelight dances offit and his jaw carved from stone, highlighting just how perfect he is.
Gabriel has an incredible body. That’s apparent to anyone who looks at him. A strong body. But it isn’t just his body that’s perfect. I fear it might be him, his heart that’s perfect, too.
I could tease him. I could make him wait. I could withhold an orgasm from him. Could still be mad about what he did earlier.
I could leave him like this. Denied. Desperate. Wrecked in the same way that he did me before my date. But I don’t want to. I want more.Somuch more.
I nod. “I can handle it.”
His fingers tighten around my waist, his voice dropping into something rougher.
“Use me, Alessia… get your third orgasm. Take what you need from me and when you come, let it be my name on your lips.”
Chapter 24: Gabriel
Aly doesn’t hesitate.? She lifts her hips, dragging her soaked, aching opening over the thick, swollen head of my cock before sinking down so slow and deep I swear I black out for a good five seconds.
Fuckme.
“Best pussy I’ve ever had,” I say, my head rocking back against the couch cushion, my hands gripping her thighs so hard I’ll probably leave bruises there from how good it feels.
She takes my wrists, shakes her head at me, the same way I did earlier when she tried to touch her nipples on the floor, and then moves them behind my neck, locking me in place so that I can’t touch her the way that I want to.
“No,” she says softly. Her brown eyes glisten with mischief, a wicked, knowing smirk curling at her lips.
“You tortured me,” she continues, rolling her hips against me in a slow, sensual wave. Each pass of her wet pussy sends another spike of pleasure down my spine. Her clit drags against my pelvic hair, sending a shudder through her whole body as she takes what she wants from me. “Now I’m going to tortureyou.”
I chuckle darkly, but the sound breaks when she lifts just enough for us to both see the way she’s coating me, before sliding back down—slow, controlled, unbearable—her wet, tight heat gripping me like a vice.
Her ass bumps against my balls, and I already know what she’s doing. She’s making me suffer. And I deserve it. I fucking love it too. She’s so wet, so addictive, I swear as long as she lets me come tonight, I’ll let her do whatever she wants to me.
Oops. Guess I said that last part out loud.
Aly grins, tilting her head slightly to smile at me. “You’ll let me do anything?”
She circles her hips, clenches her pussy walls, giving me just enough friction to drive me insane—but not let me finish. I want her torideme. I want to take her hips, pin her in place, and fuck up into her so hard that she screams my name. And when I come, I black out inside her, fall asleep buried deep there with my cum leaking out of her again.
