I grab his hair and gasp when he drags his mouth from my breast. He looks up, eyes dark with desire. “Are you okay?” he asks.
More than okay, the best I’ve ever been, I want to tell him. Instead, I say, “I’m a virgin.”
He backs away from me like I’m the plague and runs his hands through his hair. He’s clearly furious, and my heart sinks with dread.
Chapter 8
Gabriel
I can’t settle on an emotion. Shock, for one. Utter horror, yes. When I look at Lorelei huddled on my couch, I want to punch something, namely myself.
“I’m sorry,” she squeaks. “Please don’t be mad.”
She thinks I’m angry at her. My frustration evaporates. “I’m mad at myself. You’re a virgin, and I’ve got you spread out on my fucking couch.”
She scrambles to sit up and reaches for me. I can’t stop myself from letting her curl her fingers in my shirt. I still want her so very badly.
“I don’t mind the couch,” she says. “I didn’t want you to stop. I just thought you should, uh, know.”
She’s so sweet. She deserves more than this. I go weak when she pulls my head down for a tentative kiss. “You really don’t want to stop?” I ask.
Shaking her head, she pulls away just enough to lock her eyes to mine. “Not at all, not even a little bit.” She sighs and looks down. “I thought you didn’t want me anymore.”
I snort. Is she that innocent that she doesn’t notice my cock about to rip out of my pants? “Oh, I do,” I assure her.
Her sparkling smile tugs at my heart, bringing it to life a little more. I shake my head and give her a stern look.
“Not here, though. Your first time is going to be perfect.”
She shivers with anticipation, and I know there’s no going back. Against her protests, I pick her up and carry her to my bedroom.
“My ankle’s fine,” she says, snuggling against my chest anyway.
There’s no way I’m letting go, and I pause to kiss her before climbing the stairs. Our lips seem to be magnetic, and I have to stop every few feet for another taste.
When we reach my bedroom, I lay her gently on the bed, then slowly work my way up her tight body. My hands work their way under her top, and she sighs against my mouth when I lightly tweak her nipples to tight nubs. She presses hard against me, her own hands running up and down my chest, then she tugs at the button on my pants.
“Not yet,” I tell her, gently taking her hands and stretching them over her head."
"Why?” she whines.
“Because you deserve to be savored,” I tell her.
She smiles, and I kiss along her hairline and down her neck. She smells like fresh laundry and a hint of vanilla. I lick the hollow of her throat like she’s candy. She’s every bit as sweet.
I release her hands, and she fumbles with the buttons on my shirt. I take her hands and kiss them before whipping my shirt off and tossing it aside. Her eyes darken as she runs her hands all over my chest.
“I like this so much,” she says, curling her fingers through my chest hair. “You’re a beast.”
Once again, she has me shouting with laughter. I want to pound my chest like Tarzan, but she distracts me when she arches her back and grabs my hands, pulling them to her breasts. Then, she slides her hands down my body and cups me through my jeans.
“I need more,” she pleads.
I take her hands and hold them above her head again.
“I told you, not yet. Now be a good girl.”
Her eyes darken, and she gasps at my words, going pliant beneath me.
