“Please,” she cried, not able to finish, but the words swam past her head, quick and desperate and loud. I asked for your body! I want your body! I want you, you, you!
“I said I cannot,” he said gruffly. Sweat gathered above his brow, his breathing so ragged it aroused her just to hear it, so near to her, so sweet and warm, as he did these wicked things to her. “Now all you need
is a cock to suck, and you’ll have everything you want, won’t you?”
“Kiss me,” she sobbed, and he did. She latched onto his tongue and sucked it while the thick, smooth stick pounded inside her, stretching and filling her, magnifying her need, her hunger. His fingers were vicious, plundering her ass slowly, thoroughly.
With a guttural cry, he shoved the scepter up inside her and left it there, buried to the hilt. He took a step back as if he were going to flee, his features twisted, corrupted with desire.
“Damn you,” he said, raking a trembling hand through his hair, his eyes wide as if some unknown fear had come back to haunt him.
“Don’t stop,” she sobbed. “Touch me. Please, touch me, fuck me.” She was panting, her pussy deeply impaled, her clit pricking with want.
Feeling a surge of desperation when he didn’t move and only stared at her in horror, she began to roll her hips with the stick firmly embedded inside her, keeping her painfully stretched while she twisted and moved. Sobs tore from inside her as she wished to come, to be set free of the unbearable tension inside her.
“Do you want to come?” he asked softly.
She didn’t hear the coarse desire in his voice, was only aware of the coiled tension in her sex, the need. “Please, please fuck me.” Stella had never had so little pride, so little honor. Begging had never cost her so little.
“I asked ‘do you want to come’?” he repeated, angry now.
“Yes!”
With the staff motionless inside her, he came to her, scraping the pad of his thumb over the damp nub of her clit. Her eyes flew wide open, and she screeched. Her hands flailed helplessly in the air as she tried to release herself, her body bucking under his thumb and the expanding force of the baton.
“Is this what you had in mind?” He pressed her clit in with his thumb, then tugged it with two fingers.
She whimpered, and he repeated the question, his voice strained.
“I said fuck me please!” was her broken cry.
He tweaked the nub, tugged and pulled and pressed it. She exploded, spasms bursting inside her body and rocking her with shudders.
For a long moment after, she hung limp, the ropes digging into her wrists as she let the weight of her body rest there. She whimpered when he slowly withdrew the scepter, her body mourning its loss. She could hear her own pants, each breath more strained than the last, and stared at the floor when she spoke next.
“I want you, Gabriel,” she whispered, so softly she might have only thought it. “So much it scares me.”
Time stood at a standstill as her words hung in the air between them. He moved a step back, seeking to put space between them while all she longed for was nearness. As she dragged her gaze upward, she saw him set his scepter down on the ground, noticed a spot of moistness in his pants, and the wild, tortured look in his eyes.
“Where did you hear that name?”
She couldn’t answer him, and she was too breathless to even try. His hands curled tightly at his sides, and she felt the heavy ropes loosen around her, then slither down to the floor.
Her arms fell limp at her sides, and when her body sagged, he quickly caught her. He seemed to want only to steady and push her away, but then he made a strange, choking sound, and an arm went around her waist; she found herself pressed so firmly against him there wasn’t a single inch of her front which wasn’t touching his. It felt so heavenly her hands quickly fisted around his shirt, locking her in position.
She could feel his heart beat fast against her breast, and when he rested his jaw on top of her head, she felt his rapid, haggard breaths stirring a few tendrils of her hair. His body felt so very hot and real against hers; she didn’t remember ever being this close to anyone. Being held like this.
She didn’t notice when his hands fell to his sides, she only felt his touch as he took her wrists in each of his hands and slowly began to massage them. She watched him dazedly, an inexplicable emotion crowding her heart.
“Gabriel,” she uttered, luxuriating in the taste of his name on her lips, her tongue. His dark head was bent as he smoothed his thumbs over the red marks. Just seeing him debilitated her, filled her body with a need so fierce it was overpowering. “Gabriel, please.”
“Fuck!” he cried as he jerked her, shoved her back against the rocky wall, pinning her hands at her sides. “I tremble at the sight of you,” he whispered savagely, his face ravaged with need, his eyes glowing with an unholy light. “I cannot think of anything except…taking you, your body.” He was ravenous as his mouth crashed down on hers. His tongue plundered inside her, greedily thrusting through her parted lips.
He devoured her with his mouth, nipping and sucking her lips, then the skin on her jaw, her ear, her neck, her shoulder. Had she not been as desperate, to be kissed and touched and felt, his bold hunger might have scared her. But she welcomed it, felt it inside her, that same unbearable need to know all of him, every secret part, every tiny detail.
Except for the visions and the time with Kevin, Stella had never been touched by a man. Not like this. Not in her life.
All her senses were attuned to him, and she felt as if all the life in the universe were gathering inside her.