I silence him by freeing his cock and taking him into my mouth in one smooth motion. The taste of him, salt and heat, makes me moan around him.
He's thick and hard and perfect, and the way he jerks at the first touch of my tongue sends power surging through my veins.
Thisis what I needed. This feeling of control, of choice, of being the one making him fall apart instead of the other way around.
I can feel his restraint in the tension of his body, see it in the way his hands remain clenched at his sides instead of touching me.
I pull off him long enough to look up and meet his blazing eyes. "Gabriel," I say, voice husky with want. "Touch me. Use me."
Something wild and desperate flashes across his face. "You sure?"
Instead of answering with words, I take his hands and guide them to my hair, then take him back into my mouth and start moving with purpose.
The effect is immediate and devastating. Gabriel's control shatters completely. His hands tighten in my hair, guiding my movements as I work him with my mouth and tongue.
The rough groans and muttered curses he makes go straight to my core, making me ache.
"Christ, Lucy," he pants, hips starting to move in short, controlled thrusts. "Your mouth. So fucking perfect."
I can feel him getting close, can taste the desperation building. When I hollow my cheeks and take him deeper than I thought possible, he breaks with a growl.
He comes hard, whole body going rigid as he spills himself down my throat. I swallow everything he gives me, holding him until the aftershocks stop and his breathing starts to return to normal.
When I finally pull away and look up at him, Gabriel's expression is pure awe mixed with something that looks suspiciously like worship.
"That was..." he starts, then stops, apparently unable to find words.
I stand slowly, wiping the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand, watching as his eyes track the movement. There's something incredibly satisfying about seeing him rumpled and undone, his usually perfect composure thoroughly shattered.
"That was me choosing," I tell him, voice carrying a confidence I didn't know I possessed. "Choosing you, choosing this, choosing all of it without apology."
Gabriel reaches for me, pulling me against his chest and holding me tight. "Don't know what I did to deserve you," he murmurs against my hair, "but I'm not questioning it."
"Good," I say, smiling against his shirt. "Because I'm not going anywhere."
As he holds me in his quiet office, morning sun streaming through windows and the taste of him still on my lips, I realize something important has shifted. The doubt and anxiety that plagued me on the walk here are gone, replaced by something stronger.
I might not control everything about my situation. I might not be able to predict how this unconventional relationship will work, or whether the men will still want me when they learn the truth about my past.
But this part? This choice to be bold, to take what I want, to own my desires without shame or apology?
This part is completely, utterly mine.
And I'm just getting started.
28
Gabriel
The taste of Lucy still burns on my lips as I watch her walk away from the station, that sundress swaying around her hips like pure temptation. Even through the window, I can see the confidence in her stride, the way she carries herself like a woman who knows exactly what she wants and isn't afraid to take it.
Christ.What she just did to me. What she's been doing to me since the moment she walked into my life.
I'm still trying to catch my breath, still hard as granite despite the fact she just blew my mind along with everything else. I should be disturbed by how easily she's unraveled years of discipline.
Should be worried about the man I'm becoming around her. The one who lets her drop to her knees in a government building like some horny teenager who can't control himself.
Instead, all I can think about is the next time I can get my hands on her. The next time I can watch her face as she comes apart for me.
