by A. Zavarelli
I can’t help but smile shyly at his words. It could be bullshit, but he seems genuine. And he’s right. I feel the electricity between us, and I want it just as badly as he does. I might regret my decision in the morning, but in the moment my mind is made up.
I glance up at him and run my fingers through his hair as I bring his lips to mine. A moan rumbles from his chest as he kisses me deeply, passionately. His arms wrap around me and he caresses my back, teasing me with his touch. His hands slide the soft fabric of my tank top up, moving to rub my bare breasts beneath his palms.
The fire spreads through my body and I let out a moan induced by his rapturous touch. With my encouragement, his hot mouth unleashes upon my nipple, sucking and licking eagerly. I arch back to give him full access as desire pools hot and wet between my legs.
“You are so beautiful,” he murmurs against me.
I sit up on my knees in front of him, reaching through his leather jacket to pull it off his shoulders. I want nothing more than to undress him. To feel his skin against mine. He helps me pull off his jacket, revealing the tight black shirt beneath it. I reach for his waist, sliding my hands gingerly up beneath the shirt as I pull it from his head. My lips move to the warm expanse of his chest, showering him with little kisses. His smell is intoxicating. Totally fucking erotic. He strokes my hair as I inhale him greedily, reaching for the button of his pants.
He grasps my hand and stops me. “Not yet, angel.”
His fingers move to my hips, trailing along the waistband of my shorts and sending currents straight between my legs. And then he tugs them down in one swift movement. I’m completely naked and at his mercy, again. He lays me down on the bed while he leans over me, trailing kisses all over my body. And then he’s there. I try not to squirm as he pulls my legs apart and situates himself between them. I’m open and exposed in front of him as he rubs his hand along my opening, grumbling in delight.
“Do you feel this, Victoria? How wet you are? You’re so responsive to me.”
Before I can respond, his mouth is on me. He licks and sucks and groans as he buries his face deep inside of me. I stroke his head appreciatively with my hand as I jerk against him. The tension in my body skyrockets, desperate to explode.
“Come for me, Victoria,” he commands.
His words are my undoing. Tides of pleasure course through my body, making me thrash violently until all of the sensations pass over me. My head is dizzy, and my body lifeless as I lay there trying to recover from the erotic storm that is Gabriel. From the corner of my eye, I can see him unzipping his pants, and the sound of foil ripping as he rolls a condom over his wide girth.
And then he’s upon me, between my legs. He kisses me gently on the lips as he spreads me further apart to accommodate his large body. I can taste myself on him and it’s strangely enticing.
He positions himself at my entrance, gently stroking up and down, teasing my sensitive flesh. He pulls my hand to his erection, closing my fingers around him.
“I want you to put me inside of you,” he rasps. “I need to know this is what you want.”
I stroke his hard cock in my hand and the words leave my mouth before I can think about them. “I’ve never wanted anything more in my life.”
I nudge his cock against my wet center, inching him slowly inside. He relaxes his body against me, sinking into me as he devours my mouth.
“God you’re so fucking tight,” he growls. “Always so tight. So perfect.”
I’m barely coherent as his thrusts become quicker, harder. His flesh is slapping against me as my insides tighten for the second time. And without warning I let out a long cry as I tremble around him. He arches back and slams into me twice more before collapsing, growling like a wild bear as he empties himself.
Chapter Thirteen
Gabriel
My hands itch to touch Victoria as I watch her sleep in the early light of day. She looks at peace as the morning sun kisses her skin, surrounding her with an ethereal glow. It only serves to remind me how pure she is, and how fucked up I am to want her.
The whole situation is out of character for me, and for a moment, panic rears its head like an ugly little beast. I don’t get attached and I’m not about to start now. A small part of me is tempted to be a complete dick and just get up and leave, making her hate me, and effectively ending this uncomfortable situation for good.
But even for me that is low. Especially when I came here last night to stop her from doing exactly that. As much as I don’t want to admit it, I don’t want her to hate me. She isn’t like the others, and I actually care what she thinks of me. Dangerous ground to be on.
I glance around the sparse bedroom and shake my head in disapproval. I still can’t believe she’s living in this shit hole. There’s definitely something she isn’t telling me. I watched the surveillance videos the detective sent me and was glad to see she hadn’t been in any real danger before she crashed into me on the street that day. But whoever she was staring at had definitely spooked her. And I want to know why.
She doesn’t even have a dresser. Only one large suitcase filled with clothes. It isn’t even unpacked, which is even more bizarre. She already told me she didn’t intend on staying here more than a couple months, but why hasn’t she unpacked?
On the dresser beside me is a stack of classic novels. But what stands out is the well-worn copy of Pride and Prejudice. Typical. Women seem to love that crap, and I never understood why.
Her walls are mostly bare except for a few small prints. Upon closer inspection, I realize they are candid shots of cityscapes, animals, and small children playing in a park. I find them quite fascinating. The photography seems to capture pure and simple emotions in the subjects, and I wonder if she took them.
Victoria stirs beside me, mumbling incoherently in her sleep. As she rolls, I catch a glimpse of the soft curve of her bare shoulder. I stare at the small tattoo I first noticed the other day. It’s some sort of script I don’t recognize. Hebrew, maybe.
There is something about that black ink on her creamy white skin I find incredibly sexy. I run my fingers over it, tracing each gentle swoop and curve. And I decide that I need to know what it translates to. I grab my phone and snap a picture of it, sending it off in a quick text.
***
Victoria
The rising sun creeps through the curtain, spilling across my face. Before I can open my eyes, I feel his warm body surrounding me. His hand gently caressing my shoulder, his scent everywhere on my sheets.
I turn my head and look up into a sea of blue. In the early light of morning, he looks different. His hair is tousled and wild, reminding me of his alter ego. I trail my fingers across his arm, over his tattoos. They are in the perfect location so that they can be hidden away by his daily business suits, or even the black tee shirt he wore last night. I can’t help but wonder at his vastly different personality types. Businessman by day, bad boy at night. I like them both, but it makes me wonder which side he leans towards more. Which is his true nature?
My thoughts wander to the night before, how sensual and caring he was with me. I wonder idly if he will be that same way again, or if it was a once off. Either way, I know there’s no ending it now. I will just have to tread carefully.
He shifts beneath me, pulling me against him. I nuzzle into his chest, inhaling his scent unashamedly.
“Good morning.” His voice is sleepy and sexy, wrapping around me like a warm blanket.
I smile up at him shyly. “Good morning.”
He picks up the copy of Pride and Prejudice from my nightstand, and my face flushes with embarrassment.
“I should have known you were a romantic at heart,” he murmurs softly. “Sonnets and emotional conversations, that sort of thing. Is that why you won’t give me a chance?”
I seize the book from his hands, shoving it down between the mattress and the wall. “I’m not a romantic, it’s just a classic which I happen to enjoy. That is all. I’m a realist, and I’m pe
rfectly in control of my emotions. My decision last night was based on logic, nothing else.” My voice is just a little too high pitched for my own liking. Even I don’t believe me.
“You are too generous to trifle with me,” he begins in a mimicked English accent. “If your feelings are still what they were, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged, but one word from you will silence me on this subject forever.”
Holy crap. My mouth drops open, and I can’t seem to shut it again.
“How did you… I mean, but…” I’m stuttering. Completely dumbfounded.
He rolls his eyes and laughs. “Angelina loved it.”
My face drops at his words. Who the hell is Angelina?
“My sister,” he clarifies. “I used to read it to her at night. I thought I made an exceptional Mr. Darcy.”
“Oh,” I mumble. “Well, you do actually. I’m quite impressed.”
He smiles down at me questioningly. “But you didn’t answer the question, Elizabeth. Have you given any more thought to our arrangement since last night?”
Oh. Two can play at this game…
“Mr. Darcy,” I begin my attempt at a proper ladylike English accent. “I am a very selfish creature; and, for the sake of giving relief to my own feelings, care not how much I may be wounding yours.”
I smile in satisfaction at my own joke, but its short lived. His mouth is drawn into a hard line, and he doesn’t seem amused at all.
“Sorry,” I mutter. “It was a joke.”
“One that I didn’t find particularly funny,” he says dryly. “Victoria, I want you. How can I make it any more clear? I want you to agree to seeing me.”
“Seeing you?” I scoff. “I wouldn’t call you fucking me whenever you feel like it, seeing you. Shouldn’t we just call a spade a spade?”
His brows knit together as he frowns at me. “Victoria, it’s not like that. I’m here aren’t I? Talking to you now. Yes, it will be a mostly sexual relationship, but I thought you said you weren’t looking for anything else, anyway?”
Well, he does have me there. Except, it isn’t exactly true. I would love to have more. But I can’t. This is the life I’m forced to accept. Short term glories. It doesn’t matter if I know there can never be more, my heart will still inevitably get crushed by this beautiful man. I don’t know if the thrill in the short term will outweigh the consequences in the end. But I know that while he’s here in my bed, I can’t deny that I still want him.
“Yes,” I say resolutely before I can change my mind again. “I want to fuck… with you.”
He chuckles and squeezes me in his arms, kissing the crown of my hair softly. “You have no idea how happy that makes me.”
Without warning, he rolls me beneath him and moves on top of me. His mouth kisses soft trails from my neck down to my breast. And the same familiar sensations I felt before are pulling inside of me, longing pooling between my legs.
His rigid erection digs into my hip as he assaults my breasts with his tongue. I arch into him, begging for more as my hand grips his cock. I caress his velvet skin hungrily with my palm and he lets out a deep satisfying groan.
He pulls away long enough to roll a fresh condom down the length of his cock. And then he’s on me, inside of me, thrusting wildly. I moan in my lust induced ecstasy, and it spurs him on, harder, faster. I shatter around him in record time and he follows, growling into my ear as he trembles inside of me.
After a few moments to catch our breath he rolls off of me, bringing the palm of my hand to his lips in a gentle kiss.
He strokes my hair, and we lay in silence for what seems like an eternity. There is something off in his voice when he speaks again.
“This isn’t my usual thing, but I like it with you.”
I look up at his eyes thoughtfully, noticing the storm has returned. His facial features aren’t as relaxed now, and I can feel him distancing himself from me already. It’s a feeling I know all too well.
“It won’t always be like this you know,” he says. “I feel it’s only fair to warn you of that. I’m not a romantic type of guy. Don’t get me wrong, I thoroughly enjoyed having you this way. But I still have needs, and I won’t deny that, for anyone.”
I ignore the harshness of his tone. “So what will it be like, Gabriel? You tell me how our arrangement will work. Don’t hold back any of the gory details on my account.”
He shrugs. “I will tell you when to come to me, what to wear, and I expect you to do it with no questions asked. So long as it doesn’t interfere with your work hours, of course.”
He eyes me wearily, almost like he’s expecting me to say no. Like he wants me to say no. And I don’t know what to make of that, but for a moment, I think he might be trying to push me away.
“I’m not a pizza,” I counter, deciding to give him an out if he wants one. “I don’t just come when you order me to, Gabriel. You can have me when it’s mutually agreed on, or not at all.”
For some reason, he seems relieved by my words. “Well, we’ll see about that, Victoria.”
I roll my eyes at his assumption that I’m so predictable. Even if I am, he doesn’t have to be so damn cocky about it.
“I want to discuss some boundaries,” he states gruffly.
“Okaaaaaaay.” I groan, hating that business-like tone of his.
“Is there anything, sexually, that you refuse to do?”
“Um…” I pause. I hadn’t even thought about these things. Last night I thought I would never see him again. “I don’t know.”
He reaches down and caresses my cheek, his gentle side returning. “It’s okay, we’ll get there. We can try things together, and if you don’t like it, all you have to do is say stop.”
And then we’re over my subconscious supplies. I glance at my twisted fingers in my lap. I like both sides of Gabriel, but a part of me wants to tell him to stop being gentle with me… to only fuck me roughly and use me for his pleasure. But it has nothing to do with the sex and everything to do with my heart.
“I want you to stop coddling me,” I say. “Whatever you want to dish out… whatever you normally do, just do that to me. Don’t worry whether or not I can handle it. Just don’t be nice to me.”
He stares at me in disbelief, and if I didn’t know any better, he actually looks hurt.
“Well which is it, Victoria?” he snaps. “You just got done telling me you aren’t a pizza. But now it sounds like you want to be my fuck toy. Is that it? You come when I want, do what I want, and we just ignore the niceties?”
“Yes,” I grate. Because that’s what I am.
“Fine.” His eyes are eyes cold and deadly calm. “Now just a couple more things. I’ve made an appointment for you today. I need you on birth control. This is non-negotiable.”
“Um, you cannot be serious.”
“I’m totally serious,” he replies coolly. “I want to be able to fuck you any time or anywhere I want. That is the whole point of having a plaything, is it not?”
I know he’s trying to piss me off, but it isn’t working. Because he doesn’t realize how fucked up I am or how sexy it is when he calls me his fucktoy or his plaything.
“Fine,” I relent. “Just leave me the details.”
Gabriel grins like he can’t help himself, and I grin back too. And that’s when I know, this man is going to be the destruction of me.
To be continued….
Thank you so much for reading part one of Victoria and Gabriel’s story. If you enjoyed it, please consider leaving an honest review on Amazon or Goodreads. Or if you’d like to email me directly, you can do so at [email protected]
Want to keep up to date on my new book releases and special offers? You can sign up for my newsletter at my Newsletter Signup Page.
Your email will be kept confidential and secure, and never redistributed for any purposes. You can also find more information on my upcoming work at my Website, or on Twitter.
Ready for more of Gabriel and Victoria’s
story?
Here’s a special teaser for Falling into Exposure
********* “Very good Victoria. You have pleased me immensely.” He strokes the naked flesh along my collarbone and lifts my chin to meet his gaze. And then my eyes dart to the large bulge inside of his gray sweatpants. Every muscle inside of me clenches with desire. He seems to be able to read my thoughts as he moves his hip forward, rubbing his erection against my cheek through the material of his pants.
“Do you see this?” he grips his thickness through the fabric. “This is what you do to me.”
I melt at his words. Maybe he does find me sexy. I can’t remember ever feeling so pleased with myself. But then his voice shifts again, growing colder.
“Now that you know how this works, I expect you to come straight to this room. Do not wait for me. You will kneel here like you are right now and await my instructions. Do you understand?”
I start to nod and then think better of it. “Yes, I understand.”
“Yes, what?” he growls.
I flinch at his bitter tone. “Yes, Gabriel.”
He soothes the sting of his coldness by slipping his hand between my legs and stroking my wet folds. He plays with me casually in light teasing strokes, pushing in and out like he has all day. It doesn’t matter how he touches me, it always gets me there. Every single time. It’s only Gabriel that can do this to me. No one else.
I feel the pressure building within me, higher and higher. I’m ready to burst when he stops and pulls away suddenly.
“Tsk tsk.”
What? No don’t go…. He swiftly removes the metal bar from between my ankles. I can hear the soft padding of his feet as he walks in front of me and then unclasps my wrists.
“Let me make one thing clear.” He leans down to whisper in my ear. “You are here, to please me.”
I want to punch him. I’m sure he’s getting a real kick out of this. Seeing me lapping up his attention, bringing me to the brink of pleasure and then stopping.