Mine to Take(25)

She was silent but he could see the pulse at the base of her throat racing. Hear the ragged sounds of her breathing.

This is a mistake. You want this too much. Want her too much.

The warning was inconvenient, so he ignored it. There was nothing wrong with wanting her. It was passing lust, that was all. He was still in control and that’s all that mattered.

“You don’t understand,” she said, her voice hoarse. “I can’t afford to let go. I can’t afford to feel.”

“Why the fuck not?”

Finally she looked up at him, her eyes dark. “Because I want to too badly.”

“You’re right. I don’t understand.”

“It’s a weakness. My father ruined himself chasing a good feeling and from what I’ve seen, Alex is already halfway down that path. Addiction can be hereditary, so what chance have I got? Especially when you make me feel far too good, Gabriel.”

There was a painful honesty in her eyes that he wasn’t expecting, a momentary vulnerability that hurt for some reason. “It’s just sex, Honor. It’s not a drug. One night won’t make any difference. And besides…” He didn’t know how or why, but the truth came out of him before he was even aware of it. “You’re not alone. Sometimes just feeling is what I want, too.”

Her eyes widened, searching his face as if looking for something she’d lost. “You do?”

Fuck, why had he said that? Revealing parts of himself was not in any way part of his plan. Which meant he had to end this conversation before he lost it and gave away anything more.

Gabriel bent his head and covered her mouth with his.

She stiffened for an instant, her arms pulling against his wrists. Then she made a helpless sound in the back of her throat and all her tension melted away, her body going soft against him. Her mouth opened, letting him in, and he tasted heat and the smoky sweetness of the scotch. Christ, she was delicious. She went straight to his head.

He kissed her deeper, exploring her mouth as he gripped her wrists harder, bending her body into a perfect arch against him. Her breasts pressed to his chest, her hips to his, the hard ridge of his cock against the soft warmth between her thighs.

She shuddered, kissing him back, just as hot, just as hungry as he was. The desire that had been simmering inside him ignited into life again, a sharp, intense ache.

He lifted his mouth, looked down into her flushed face, her mouth full and red from his kiss. There was something defiant in her eyes. Something that called to the hunter inside him, that twisted the hunger tighter.

“We made a deal, Honor St. James,” he said roughly. “It’s too late to pull out now. You had a fantasy remember? It’s too cold for the bike, but we can make that fantasy come true right here, right now.”

* * *

Honor was so aroused she couldn’t breathe. And it shouldn’t work that way. She shouldn’t be so completely turned on by a man holding her wrists behind her back, the length of his powerful body up against hers.

Not just any man. Gabriel.

Her mouth burned from his kiss. Everywhere burned. Like the mere touch of him scalded her and now she was desperate for relief.

She looked up into his eyes and felt stripped bare. Like he saw everything, knew everything. She didn’t know how he’d managed to guess those things about her, how he knew exactly what scared her, or even why she’d told him about her fears. But no matter how afraid she was, she wanted to believe he was right. That it was only sex. That one night wouldn’t hurt. Because she did want to let go. Wanted, for a moment, not to have to be in control. To not care. To embrace the rush and the sheer intensity of physical pleasure.

But she didn’t know how. The thought of letting go terrified her. Because what if it was good? What if she wanted it again? And again, and again, and again? What if she couldn’t get enough of him? Of this?

Yet that fantasy of him inside her, holding her hands so she couldn’t fight or move thrilled her down to her bones.

She would have no choice but to accept whatever he wanted to give her. No option but to let go.

He shifted his hips against hers, the hard ridge of his cock pressing against her, making her want to rock against it, get the friction she craved. “Tell me more of your fantasy. About me fucking you with your hands behind your back.”

She swallowed, afraid to give in. “N-no.”

“Do it.”

“No.” She arched against him, the hard press of his zipper between her legs sending small, sharp electric shocks through her.

He bent his head, his mouth brushing her jawline, then lower, against the side of her neck. Then he bit her.

She gasped, the sensation streaking down her spine, pleasure mixed with a dart of pain that had her trembling. “Oh … God…”

“The words, baby,” he said softly, his breath against her skin. “Or you don’t get to have it.”

He held her so tightly and there was no escape. No choice now but to give in.

She closed her eyes. “P-please. I want … you to hold my hands behind my back and … f-fuck me.”

His grip on her shifted, her wrists crossed and held in the small of her back by one strong hand. Then she felt his free hand slide under her skirt, his fingers cupping the back of her thigh, sliding upward.

She trembled, shutting her eyes tighter, the breath catching in her throat. His hand slid up to the curve of her butt and stopped, long fingers moving between her thighs.

Oh … Holy God …

He gently brushed over the lacy fabric of her panties. “You’re wet. You want this so badly, don’t you?”

Honor shuddered in his hold, unable to stop the soft gasp that escaped her.

Another tantalizing brush of his fingertips. “Tell me. Or it doesn’t happen.”

“Y-yes … please…”

“Please who?”

“G-Gabriel. Please, Gabriel.”

“Good girl. Now stand just like that. Don’t move.”

She kept her eyes closed, standing there motionless as he released her, unable to stop shaking, her hands behind her back.

You should have left while you’d had the chance.

Maybe she should have. But she hadn’t. And now it was too late. She couldn’t have walked away from this if she’d tried.

His hands slid up her thighs, underneath her skirt. Fingers hooking into the waistband of her panties, jerking hard, the sound of fabric tearing. She inhaled sharply, some deep part of her, the wild part, thrilled by the roughness of the motion, the pull and release as the lace fell away from her.

Then his hands on her thighs again, urging her forward. She didn’t want to look, happy with the darkness. It was easier to concentrate on sensation. She went where those hands put her but when they pushed her skirt up, she trembled. Bare from the waist down and now, he could see her.

She screwed her eyes shut even tighter, trying to calm her breathing and failing.

“Pretty,” he murmured, his voice soft and dark, fingers stroking through the curls between her thighs. “You look as good as you feel.”

Honor shivered. The blackness behind her eyes was threaded through with spikes of white light, spiraling behind her lids as he touched her. Small bolts of lightning.

“Come here.” He pulled her forward and she realized he was sitting on the edge of the bed, making her straddle him. Once she was sitting, facing him, he gripped her wrists and held them behind her back again.

She swallowed, listening. Was he breathing as fast as she was? Was he shaking like she was?

Does that matter to you?

Yes, it did. The grip on her wrists released and she opened her eyes, looked down.

Gabriel was in the process of leaning back, undoing his jeans, his gaze on her. And the look in his eyes …

The air between them caught fire. Igniting in a sheet of flame, the heat burning the air from her lungs.

He said nothing as he pulled his jeans open, as he reached for the foil packet beside him on the bed. He freed his cock, ripping the packet open and sheathing himself. His movements were slow, controlled, his gaze never leaving hers.

She couldn’t temper her breathing, the heat of his body like a furnace beneath her open, exposed flesh. The muscles of her thighs locked. This was too much.

Instinct had her rising as he straightened, his hand reaching behind her to grip her crossed wrists in a tight hold, preventing her from getting away. Those dark eyes were inches from her own, his mouth within kissing distance. “Don’t be scared,” he whispered roughly. “I won’t hurt you.”

But it wasn’t hurt she was afraid of. It was the fierce, uncontrollable pleasure she knew he’d give her that she wasn’t sure she could handle. Not again.

He seemed to understand though. “It’ll be okay. I’ve got you.”

And he kept his gaze on hers as she felt one hand on her hip, guiding, positioning her.

Then his fingers spread her open and he was pushing her down onto him. Sensitive flesh stretched and she cried out, trembling all over, pleasure catching in her throat.

Too much. Too much.

Yet his hand around her wrists was a shackle and she couldn’t escape from the sensation. Couldn’t run. Could only sit there and take it as he moved deeper inside her, fire in the shadowy gaze that pinned her to the spot, which made it so she couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

“Gabriel…” Her voice was a hoarse whisper. “God…”