But I can’t do that. At least not yet.
“Did you let him touch you?” My voice is softer, tight and I know it’s full of pain. Maybe it isn’t fair for me to ask her, but I need to know.
She stills beneath me, her breath catching.
“W-what?” she whispers.
“Did he touch you? Did you let Travis touch you.”What feels like mine.
A flick of her tongue across her lips—hesitation. And then she says, “A single kiss. That’s it, Gabriel. It was a goodbye kiss, and I felt nothing.”
I let out a heavy sigh. I have no right to be angry—I let her go. I told her she should. I knew she needed this. I wanted her to seethat I was different. Butfuck, knowing she let someone else’s lips touch hers—even if it meant nothing to her, even if it confirmed what she already knew in her heart—burns like hell.
I tighten my hold, one hand still pinning hers above her head, the other locked onto her hip. My gaze drags down her body, taking her in. Alessia’s always been beautiful to me. She’s always had the obvious things. The kind of beauty that makes men look twice when she walks into a room. But the things most men notice aren’t the things that matter. And they sure as hell aren’t the things I’ve been lucky enough to see up close.
Like the way her pupils widen just a little when she’s turned on, until the chocolate brown of her eyes almost disappears. The creamy light brown of her skin that reminds me of my coffee in the morning, the way it flushes pink when it’s bitten. Her nipples, a soft shade of brown and mauve that go tight and puffy just from me murmuring something filthy in her ear.
Her collarbone, delicate and sharp in a way that makes my eyes drift lower every single time. And her navel. I don’t know why, but something about it gets me every time. Small. Feminine. So fucking cute it drives me a little insane.
Then there are her thighs. My favorite. Thick and strong and soft all at once. When they squeeze tight around my head, when the world goes muffled and distant while she’s falling apart above me, I always know she’s close.
But none of those things are the real reason she’s beautiful. What most people never get to see is her heart because she protects it fiercely. It’s a heart that’s always just wanted to be loved. To have someone look at her and truly see her. To finally trust a man and not end up disappointed. I get that more than she might understand yet.
When I first met Alessia, she was closed off. Guarded. A little sharp around the edges. Like she was always waiting for the moment someone would prove her right about them. But that isn’t who she really is. That’s armor. She built it piece by pieceto protect herself. And with me… she’s never had to wear it. She knows that. When those walls come down, what’s left is the real Alessia. The one hardly anyone gets to see. And she’s the kindest, most thoughtful, most loving woman I’ve ever known. She loves her grandmother, adores her students and just wants what we all do… for someone to love.
She’s wearing too much clothing. There are too many layers between us. Too many barriers keeping me from feeling the heat of her, the sweat slicking her cool skin. The way her body is soaked for me.
I release her hip for only a second—just enough to shove my sweatpants down and free my cock. I wrap my fist around it, stroking roughly, needing just a moment of relief. But it only makes the ache worse. The need to be inside her stronger.
Aly watches, eyes wide.
She gasps. “Yes.”
I smirk at her. “Do you want this?”
She nods frantically. “Please, Gabriel. So badly.”
A pulse of satisfaction, of possession, floods me. My sack tingles and my cock stiffens in my grip.
“Tell me you regret letting him kiss you.”
She nods her head. “I do”
“Tell me that you were thinking of me.”
She doesn’t hesitate. “I was.”
“Good. Now I want to reclaim your mouth.”
Her brows lift slightly. “What does that mean?” she breathes.
I release her hands just long enough to tug her upright, stripping the oversized sweatshirt off her in one swift motion. Her full, heavy breasts spill free, perfect, soft, her brown nipples already tight just from us talking.
I groan, “You’re so beautiful, Alessia.” I cup them, thumbingover the sensitive peaks, rolling them between my fingers as I watch her body arch and open for me.
“More,” she moans.
I stop. “Not until I reclaim your mouth. Which means I need to fuck it.”
