Page 99 of Love What's Left
He slid inside, barely. Then he stayed perfectly still. The relief lasted less than three seconds, then it was worse, the ache for fulfillment stealing my resolve along with my sanity.
“You should move a little,”I said, lifting my hips in a quick thrust and drawing him in farther.
He dropped his head beside mine, laughed, then slammed his forehead against the mattress. Repeatedly.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m trying not to die.”
“Let’s renegotiate. For one night only, we do anything we want, as many times as we want, before the sun comes up, then never again. We’ll get it out of our system,” I said.
He took my mouth in a carnal kiss and powered into me.
Here andnow, I tilt my head to the side to give him better access as he nips and sucks his way down my neck.
He startles a laugh from me when he straightens then hikes me over his shoulder.
“Gabriel.”
“Sydney.” I can hear the smile in his voice.
My name has always been nothing but a way to identify me. I don’t have strong feelings about it one way or the other. But he never says “Sydney” like it’s an offhand label. He turns my name into a benediction, love spun into a vow.
He drops me onto the bed, kicks off the last of his clothing, and crawls over me. The new position has me closer to the lamp than I like. It glares into my eyes.
“Turn off the light. Turn it off. Turn—”
A brief, stretching reach, then inky darkness descends. Gabriel’s hard length presses against my thigh.
I tunnel both hands through his hair and drag his mouth down to mine, then I push on his shoulder. “On your back, beautiful.”
He rolls over, reversing our positions. “I should punish you for that.”
“There you go, threatening me with a good time.” I slide down his body, then lift my prize from where it presses against his lower abdomen and drop a kiss to the tip.
Another flash of memory. We were in our bedroom in the Manhattan penthouse. He wore nothing but his weddingring.
“You know I don’t need this, right?” he’d asked.
“I want to try. For you, but for me too.”
Gabriel wrapped my hair in his fist and guided my mouth to his cock. “Kiss.”
I pressed my lips to the tip, then darted my tongue out for a little taste of the salty bead of liquid waiting for me.
He groaned. “Tap my thigh if you need me to back off or I get too rough for you. I mean it. The second you stop enjoying yourself, so do I.”
I nodded.
“Holding your breath helps suppress your gag reflex. I’ll count backward out loud so you always know how much longer you have until I pull you off.”
I opened for him.
He pressed inside. Controlled my head. Farther. Farther. Until he bumped the back of my throat and I swallowed.
I was utterly in his power. He would choose my next breath. My nose pressed flush against his pelvis as I surrendered utterly. It was scary. It was also insanely hot.
I’d never let any man come close to anything like this, but he loved me. He wouldn’t hurt me.
