Bound By Marriage(6)

"Oh!" She grabbed at his shoulders to steady herself, suddenly conscious of the rigid length of his arousal against her.

It was as if he'd seen the knowledge in her eyes. "Relax, darling. I haven't finished tasting you."

She swallowed. In this position, she was completely at his mercy. But he  didn't tease, instead gave her exactly what she wanted by dipping his  head and taking her nipple into his mouth. The hard suction tugged low  and deep inside of her, tempting her, taunting her.

Her fingernails dug into his shoulders, the flesh slick and hot under her skin.

He was so unapologetically male that everything female in her reacted to him, softening, weakening … melting.

As a result, when he used his hands to ease her down onto the bed, she was lost enough to say, "Gabe, please."

Swearing under his breath, he moved to drag off his briefs. But he  returned to his position an instant later, his hands going under her  thighs. "Wrap your legs around my waist." The rawness of his voice was  as much an aphrodisiac as the skin stretched tight over his cheekbones.

She did as he asked. And realized that her body was angled slightly  upward, in perfect position for his claiming. Instinct screamed that the  penetration would be deep, incredibly so. "Gabe," she whispered. "It'll  be too much."

"I'll ease you through it." He stroked his hand up her body to curve  over her breast and though his words were calm, his eyes were anything  but.

She had the feeling he was hanging on by a very thin thread, the pulsing  length of his erection a physical mark of desire against the sensitive  skin of her inner thigh. A small part of her feared the intensity of  him, but that part was buried under the crushing force of her own need.

Gripping her bottom, he nudged at her with that length of hard, hot flesh.

Lightning sizzled up her body and when he pushed in, she screamed. But  Gabe was true to his word, easing his way into her so slowly she thought  she'd go mad. He touched places inside of her that no one had ever  touched, bringing intense pleasure.

And no pain.

"I'm damn glad you're a rider, Jess," he almost growled as he filled  her, going so deep that she could feel his heartbeat in her body.

Not aware enough to understand what he was referring to, she squeezed  intimate muscles around him in a reaction as old as time itself.  Throwing back his head, he tightened his hold on her and began to move.  His rhythm was fast, his strokes deep. She screamed and screamed as he  pushed her over the edge in a tempest of hot breaths and powerful  thrusts.

And when she fell, it was as a marked woman. Gabriel Dumont's woman.

Jess felt raw, exposed. He'd shattered her, claimed her passion and left  her powerless. And she'd let him. Begged him. Now that the haze of  desire had faded to reveal harsh reality, she couldn't accept or  understand the depth of her capitulation.

He wasn't supposed to be the man who made her yearn!                       
       
           



       

It felt as though she'd given up her dream in that bed … given up Damon.  Every time she'd felt pleasure, every time she'd screamed, she'd  betrayed the love that had lived in her heart for a lifetime. And she  didn't understand how that could have happened. Gabe wasn't the kind of  man she could ever love. She wasn't even sure she liked him.

Sliding quietly out of bed, she pulled on the first thing that came to hand.

Unfortunately, it was Gabe's shirt. The scent of him was in the fibers,  on her skin, in the air. It mocked her with echoes of what he'd  taken … what she'd relinquished. As she searched for her dress so she  could get rid of the shirt, she heard the sheets rustle.

"Where are you going, Jess?"

A bedside lamp came on.

Blinking against the glare, she tucked her hair behind her ears and buttoned up the shirt. "To my own bedroom."

His eyes were cold, focused. "I was under the impression you were already there."

"Look," she said, finding courage from the ragged tatters of her pride.  "We've consummated the marriage. There's no need for us to be in the  same bed anymore.

I'd rather sleep on my own." She hugged her arms around herself. "I'll … I'll let you know if we were successful."

He raised an eyebrow. "I'm not that arrogant-it's probably going to take more than one try."

She bit her lower lip, trying not to look at the muscled upper body  she'd caressed so feverishly less than an hour ago. "Well we can't do  anything for a couple of days anyway. It didn't hurt during but I'm sore  now." Despite the humiliating awkwardness of the admission, she forced  herself to meet his eye, aware that Gabriel would capitalize on the  slightest indication of weakness with brutal efficiency.

He flicked off the light. "Suit yourself. But don't try to use sex against me. I don't play those kinds of games."

"I'm not playing a game."

"Aren't you?" He snorted. "If you think I'm going to agree to carry on  with a marriage where my wife saves herself for another man, you're  sadly mistaken."





Chapter 4





"How dare you!"

"I asked you to be my wife, not my roommate. Decide what you want."

Not replying, Jess slammed through the connecting door between their rooms.

Gabriel folded his arms behind his head and unclenched his jaw with  conscious application of will. No woman had ever made the rules in his  bed. And Jess wasn't going to get the chance to be the first. He'd meant  what he'd said-he had no intention of living in a sexless marriage, not  when bed was the one place where he … Shoving away that thought, he sat  up.

Sleep was not what he wanted right now. He'd been more than ready for a  replay of their first time together before Jess had pulled her little  stunt. The woman had turned into pure lightning in his arms, the most  responsive lover he'd ever had. He hadn't wanted passion when he'd  chosen her, hadn't thought she'd incite it in him. But she had. He was  willing to live with that fact, so long as it was confined to the bed.  The primitive in him liked knowing he'd been the only man to taste his  wife's screams.

Hard on the heels of that thought came a far less pleasant one. Damon.  Gabriel had made it his business to keep tabs on the other man since  learning of the separation and knew that he'd recently been sniffing  around for information about Jess.

His hand fisted.

Jess could love Damon all she liked. It made no difference to Gabe  except that it meant she'd never expect anything emotional from him. But  he had no intention of putting up with a "friendship" between his wife  and the younger man.

Jess might hate Gabe for it but she'd known who and what he was when  she'd married him. He held on to what was his and Jess was now his. End  of story.

Jess woke with gritty eyes. Checking the clock, she saw it was a few  minutes before five. "Four hours of sleep. Great." A sound reached her  from the bedroom next door and she realized Gabe was probably already  up. Trying not to think about him or what they'd done in the tantalizing  privacy of the night, she tugged the blanket to her chin.

The scent that rose up around her was that of the very man she'd been  attempting to ignore. Thoughts derailed by anger, she'd forgotten to  take off Gabe's shirt and now the lapse taunted her into full  consciousness. "Arrgh!" She decided she might as well get up and shower.

The hot water poured a balm over muscles unused to the kind of activity  she'd indulged in the previous night. An activity she definitely did not  want to think about, but which she couldn't seem to excise from her  brain.                       
       
           



       

She'd just finished dressing and was standing in front of the window  brushing her hair when a perfunctory knock sounded on the connecting  door. Gabe walked in a second later. Clad in an old pair of jeans and a  rough work shirt, his sexuality was somehow even more intense, more  powerfully real. Her nerves quickfired, recalling the demands he'd made  in the dark, the exquisite pain of sensual pleasure.

"Good morning." He gave her an amused smile, clearly aware of his effect on her.

That arrogance snapped her back to her senses. "I didn't say you could come in."

Pulling the brush hard through her hair, she returned her attention to the predawn darkness.

He closed the gap to stand next to her, a powerful presence she'd  touched intimately but knew only as a shadow. "Be ready to head out at  seven."

"Where are we going?"

"To visit your parents."

Her animosity disappeared. "Thank you." Placing the brush on the windowsill, she forced herself to face him.

The eyes that looked back at her were completely unreadable. "Kiss me good morning, Jess."