“You really are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of getting to know, Gabriela,” he murmurs, his fingers trailing through my hair and sliding down to cup my jaw.
Isabella.The urge to tell him my real name is dangerously strong, but I know better. Now more than ever, after we’ve slept together, I can’t let on that I’ve deceived him in any way. That would open up questions as to what else I might not have been truthful about—like my experience or being on the pill.
His fingers lace through mine as he leads me into the small bathroom just off the bedroom. It’s nothing fancy, just a desert-toned granite countertop with a sink and cabinet, a toilet and a white mat in front of a glass-door shower, and white towels hanging on the wall. Niall turns away from me for a moment to turn on the hot water, and I get a good look at his ass—round and firm, clearly as muscled as the rest of him, curving into strong thighs. I catch a glimpse of his cock, soft now and less threatening, swinging between those thighs as he moves, his body sinuous as a panther’s.
I’ve never had the opportunity to look at a man so thoroughly before, and certainly not one as handsome as Niall. Everything about him, from his chiseled features to his hard body, his black hair, and dark blue eyes, seems designed to make a woman swoon.I’m glad it was him,I think again as he steps back to let me in the shower first. Whoever else comes later, whoever I’m married off to, I’ll always have this night to hold close to my chest, to remember in the darkest parts of the night when life feels too heavy to bear. I’ll know that once upon a time, I was brave enough to reach out and take one choice, just one, for myself.
“God, you’re even more beautiful soaking wet,” Niall growls as I tip my head under the water, letting it turn my hair heavy and slick against my skull and neck. His hands graze over my waist, thumbs pressing against my ribs as I feel his eyes raking over me, even with mine closed. “Let me kiss you again, lass.”
His hand is already on the small of my back as he murmurs it, pulling me towards him, and I tip my chin up gladly, wanting his mouth on mine. I want more of him, all of him, and the feeling of his wet skin sliding against mine in the steamy heat of the shower is another new sensation, one that makes me hungry for more of it. I slide my hands over his chest, down the grooves of his abs, tracing his hipbones as I feel his cock starting to rise against my thigh again, and Niall groans.
“We’ll never get clean this way, lass,” he says with a laugh, one hand sliding around to squeeze my ass cheek. “Turn around,” he orders teasingly, slapping it lightly. “I’ll help clean us both up before we get nice and dirty again.”
The sound of his strangely accented voice murmuring those words, the rough burr of it, sends tingles over my skin. I turn obediently and feel him move closer to me, his hard cock brushing against my ass as he starts to run a soapy cloth over my skin. He squeezes out the hot water and lather as he goes, bringing it higher to slide the slightly rough fabric over my breasts, cupping them as he does. I let out a moan as I arch backward into him.
“So greedy.” Niall’s breath is warm against my ear as he reaches down between my legs, the soapy cloth brushing against my thighs. It somehow feels sexual and intimate, dirty and caring all at once, the way he’s bathing me. It stirs something strange and warm in my chest, almost an ache, but the odd feeling is almost immediately replaced by a rush of desire as his fingers slip between my legs, brushing against my clit.
“Oh!” I gasp, my thighs spreading slightly as he teases the sensitive flesh, running his fingertips over it like strumming an instrument, until his hand moves back to trace my opening. “Oh, Niall—”
“You like this, lass?” he asks gruffly. “My fingers stroking your pussy, sliding inside of you?” He pushes one finger inside to the first knuckle, his thumb now brushing over my clit. “Do you want my cock instead?”
I moan, arching into his hand. I’m sore, my recently virgin flesh tender and a little bruised, but I do want more. I only get this one night, and I don’t want it to end. I’d rather be unable to walk without pain tomorrow than leave now.
“Yes,” I whisper. I want to touch him there, to explore his cock the way he’s exploring me, but I’m afraid. I’m afraid of the newness of it, the strangeness, and that he might realize just how inexperienced I am.
Fortunately, Niall’s lust is in my favor. He turns me towards him with a growl as I whisper, “yes, I want that,” and his hands are in my wet hair, his mouth on mine, his rigid cock against my belly as he kisses me with a ferocity that takes my breath away.
“The bed, this time,” he groans, fumbling with one hand to turn the water off and shove the shower door open. We stumble out of the shower, his hands still cupping my face as his tongue slides into my mouth, our bodies sliding against one another. Somehow we make it out of the bathroom and to the bed without falling, kissing and stumbling the entire way, tumbling onto the mattress still dripping wet.
“Gabriela,” he breathes against my mouth, and I feel that twisting sensation in my chest again, but I don’t have long to let it take hold. Niall is on top of me, his hand plunged into my wet hair as I feel him sliding into me, hot and thick and long, parting my tender flesh with a thrust that leaves me gasping in half-pleasure, half-pain.
I don’t let on about the pain because I don’t want him to stop. I love this, the feeling of him surging against me, filling me, possessing what I’ve given him. I know it will never feel like this again, that whatever greedy, arrogant man my father gives me to will never be able to create this same kind of fire, this desperate magnetism that seems to have sprung up between Niall and me.
It feels like a tide, like waves, his body thrusting forward into mine and withdrawing, his tongue diving into my mouth, exploring. I cling to him, hands gripping his shoulders and thighs squeezing his hips, wanting more, wanting everything.
He didn’t stop to think about a condom this time, and I’m glad. I want nothing between us, no barriers, just hot, straining flesh and the pleasure that’s consuming us both. His groans in my ear turn me on that much more, his gasps, the realization that it’smedoing it, making him feel that way.
It lasts longer this time, and it feels better, more like I have a grasp of what I’m doing, if only faintly. The movement of bodies takes some getting used to, finding the rhythm of Niall’s thrusts, but it feels easier with him than I’d thought it would be. And he’s attentive to me, taking the time to touch me even as his thrusts quicken with a hurried urgency for his own pleasure, playing with my breasts, my clit, until I feel another burst of that pleasure from before welling up inside of me.
“Come for me,” Niall whispers in my ear, and I do just that, clinging to him as I feel as if I’m coming apart at the seams, shattering and then being pieced back together. I tremble underneath him, arching and moaning as the unfamiliar sensations sweep over me. His hands stroke and soothe me as he plunges into me harder, faster, his body tensing with the onslaught of his own pleasure.
I feel him come, hard and throbbing with a heat that seems to fill me up, spreading through me, a deep groan spilling from his lips as he throws his head back. I watch him as he comes, the way his jaw tenses and his arms flex as he pushes his palms into the pillows on either side of my head, his face contorted with what could be pain or pleasure, but I know is the latter. His every muscle is hard and solid, his body shuddering as his hips grind against me, and I feel the aftershocks of my own orgasm, his pleasure spurring mine.
By the time Niall rolls off of me, breathless as he lies on his side with his head pillowed next to mine, I can feel that I’m thoroughly sore. But I’m floating on cloud nine, elated with how the night has gone—and at the same time a little sad, a bittersweet ache in my chest at the idea that it’s over now. I have to go home, and I’ll never see him again. I’ll never feel this again. I have a longing to curl into him, to stay with my head nestled on the pillow next to his and fall asleep in his arms, to wake next to him with the sunlight coming through the window and have him gently make love to me in the morning.
It’s hormones,I tell myself firmly.Virgin clinginess. You’ve heard the jokes the guards make when they think innocent ears can’t hear.These feelings are normal, but they mean nothing.Niallmeans nothing, outside of how grateful I am to have found him tonight and shared what we did. I think I gave him something he needed, too, even if I’m not quite certain what it was.
“I need to go,” I say softly, glancing over at him. I don’t want to say it, but I can see the time, and I know I need to leave if I’m going to get back to the compound when the guards change again. “I’m sorry. But if I stay any longer, I’ll fall asleep, and I need to be home tonight.”
Niall, thankfully, doesn’t ask questions about why. Maybe he’s done this before—surely he has—and he knows the routine. The idea of it being routine for him pricks something a little painful in my chest, but I ignore it, standing up and sliding out of bed. I feel a little shiver go through me as I walk to collect my dress off the chair, feeling his eyes on me the whole way.
“Let me help with that.” His voice, deep and rolling, comes from behind me as I shimmy into the dress and reach for the zipper. His fingers skate up my spine as he zips the dress, leaving pleasurable chills in their wake, and I wish all over again that I didn’t have to leave.
That I could stay in this perfect dream, just a while longer.
“I’ll be in town for a couple of weeks if you want to look me up again. I think I might just haunt theSangrefor a bit.” Niall gives me a small smile, his dark blue gaze holding mine. “Just in case. No pressure.” He pauses, his fingers trailing over the back of my hand, and I’m deeply, achingly aware that he’s still naked. “Do you need me to call you a cab?”
The request startles me, and it takes me a second to respond. He’s being so kind, kinder than I’d expected, and it makes that ache in my chest deepen. “Yes,” I manage finally. “If you don’t mind. My phone died earlier.” I repeat the same lie that I told the woman I bummed a ride from, hating lying to him, but what’s one more? I’ve told him any number of untruths tonight, and none of them will ever matter. He doesn’t even know my real name.