No.
I followed him home from my grandma’s house in my own car, and the second we walked through the door, he carried me upstairs, stripped me down like it was an emergency, and laid me out on the bed before dragging his tongue in a sloppy, claimingline from my neck, across both of my breasts, down to my belly button, then straight over my pussy before diving in like a man who isferalme.
Do I like the way Gabriel makes me feel like he needs to explore every inch of my body before he’s finally inside me?
Yes.
Do I like the way his hands never stay in just one place when he’s kissing me?
Absolutely.
His touch is everywhere at once. One second his hands are on my breasts while his tongue flicks against my clit, and the next they’re sliding lower, gripping my hips like he’s trying to pull me even closer to his mouth. Like the distance between us, even with his tongue buried inside me, still isn’t close enough.
There was a time where I might have thought letting a man take the lead in the bedroom wasn’t very feminist of me. But I think that’s because the men I knew weren’t like Gabriel. They didn’t know what they were doing so I always felt like I had to be in control.
I want to roll in his scent. To smell like him. To be filled with him again. I don’t know what these feelings are, but I’ve never felt that way toward anyone else. I’ve never felt this… out of control, like I’m drunk on lust, even with my ex-husband. It’s a terrifying thought.
I roll my head to the side to look at his room and try to distract myself from coming too soon. The bedroom is simple—navy blue comforter, a dresser in the corner with a TV on top, some matching curtains with pinstripes. There are no photos, no clutter, no sentimental little details that tell me anything more about him except what I already know: Good guy. Okay,great guy,who loves his family. Sacrificed a lot of his younger years for them and works hard. It’s clean. Straightforward. Like all his creativity gets poured into his work. But his bedroom isstrictly for business.
“Will you let me use a toy on you?” he asks, taking a break from whatever spellbinding thing he’s doing with his tongue that has my nipples drawn tight and my breath coming in gasps as I try to hold off on finishing too soon.
I’m on a deadline. I have a case I’m supposed to be working in Hartford. But right now, the most important assignment feelings like the orgasm I know Gabriel is sure to give me if I’m patient.
My head lolls back against the pillow. I nod, swallowing. “Yeah.”
“Did you bring them with you?”
“Um.”
He chuckles, and then his tongue forms a wicked point, flicking against my clit with a speed that makes me see stars but not before he sucks down hard.
“It’s a yes or no question, Aly,” he says when he lifts his head again.
“Yes,” I breathe. “Yes. I brought them with me.”
“Good.”
And then, as if rewarding me, he slides two fingers deep inside me, crooking them just right, making my back arch off the bed with pleasure. “Gabriel!” I moan.
“Be right back.”
I whimper at the loss as he slips out of his bedroom and down the hall to where I’ve been staying, leaving me spread out on his bed, throbbing and so turned on I can’t think straight. I take a breath, trying to gather my thoughts, try to wrap my head around what the hell is happening not just now in the moment, but between us.
When he returns a moment later, he’s naked—heavy, hard cockswaying between his legs. It’s a feast for my gaze. And damn, do I feast.
He’s got an unfair body—broad, built, tanned-skinned—and the way he moves? The way he knows exactly how to use every inch of himself? It’s devastating. And that patch of dark hair at the base of his cock, the one I love rubbing my clit on, does things to me that I didn’t know where possible.
Was I jealous hearing that Amber had reached out to him to do work her new house? Absolutely. I’m sure it was written all over my face. But I’d never admit that to him because why do I have the right to be jealous? Gabriel isn’t my boyfriend. He’s… nothing. He’s my neighbor. My roommate’s cousin and a guy that I am thoroughly enjoying hooking up with.
He smiles when I finally lift my gaze away from his dick, holding up one of my favorite purple toys. “Clit stimulator?”
“Uh, yeah.” My voice is embarrassingly weak because I wasn’t expecting him to grab that one. My best friend from college and old roommate bought it for me as a divorce gift—a littleyou need this in your lifepresent that I haven’t actually gotten around to using yet.
‘Gets you off in three seconds flat,’ she’d said.‘Trust me. You need this.’
That sounds very appealing right now because he’s been edging me for minutes with no relief in sight.
Gabriel turns it on, the low hum making my stomach tighten in anticipation. He climbs back onto the bed and kneels between my legs, placing a soft, teasing kiss right on top of my wet clit first.
