I want him.
I probably could have climbed into bed with him at any point while we were at Mason’s for a gentle, careful make out session or given him a blow job, something, but I was afraid. I knew how much it would hurt if it was the last time. If he decided he didn’t want me.
Gabriel tips my head back to add shampoo, and I close my eyes. “Is this all you want to do tonight?”
“It’s cute when you beg, sweetness.”
“I’m not begging.” He lets out a skeptical huff. “I can’t help what you look like naked, you know. That’s on you. I want—I’ve missed you. A lot. But you’re injured, so—”
Gabriel rolls his hips an inch closer, and the hard length of him bumps up against my hips.
“Oh.”
“No injuries there.” He keeps his fingers in my hair and bends down to kiss the curve of my shoulder. Gabriel kisses up my neck, every touch slow and lingering, until he can nip my earlobe. A shiver shakes its way down to my toes. Gabriel makes a satisfied noise. “You should see how your nipples turn to little peaks when you shiver.” He circles one of them with a fingertip. “It’s hot.”
He follows his fingertip with his tongue, and there they are—all the nerves from my nipple to my brain and elsewhere. They feel like thin filaments of pure pleasure.
Gabriel lifts his head away. I keep my eyes on him, hoping for more, his tongue on my other nipple, his fingers at my clit, his—
“Conditioner,” he sings. Then his big, capable hands are back on the task of taking a shower. He tugs at my bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. “It’s cute when you pout. Keep doing it.”
“It’s not cute when you refuse to touch me.”
“I wouldnever. In fact, I’m touching you right now.”
He runs a washcloth over my shoulder and down to my breast, avoiding my nipple.
“You’re teasing me right now.”
“I’mbathingyou right now. That’s why we’re here.”
I put my fingertips on his chest and skim them down until I can wrap my hand around his cock. Gabriel makes a softmmmsound and moves the washcloth determinedly over my hip.
“Is this okay?” I’m being playful with him, and I mean it. If he wants me to stop, I will. Always. “I just need something to hold onto. For balance. I’m sure you understand.”
“Oh, God, yes. You’ll want a better grip, then.” Gabriel’s hand curves over mine and squeezes “Perfect. Keep your hand right where it is.”
Gabriel uses a warm, casual tone, but his cock jumps in my hand in a way that doesn’t feel casual at all. He moves the washcloth over my skin in slow, thoughtful circles, and I commit to playing this game with him. His cock pulses and jumps while he washes my shoulder blades. My back. Between my legs. He rinses the conditioner from my hair.
Then his hands aren’t on me anymore. I peek through my eyelashes to find him washing his own hair.
“Oh, don’t you want me to—”
His hand darts down to mine so I can’t let go of him. Gabriel’s green eyes have gone dark. “You stayrightwhere you are.”
A shiver chases the heat in his voice down my spine. He’s not playing. Gabriel wets his washcloth and adds soap.
Suds run over my hand, and I can’t help myself. “I promise, I’m not letting go, but let me—” I slide my hand up and down his shaft, and he groans. “—help,” I finish.
He runs the washcloth over his bruises. “Be good.”
Oh.Oh. “I don’t know if I can be. I’m kind of evil.”
“Be good forme,then. And let me take you to bed.”
“You don’t want me on my knees?”
A tortured gaze at the ceiling. “I want you on your kneesvery fucking much.However, I’m fairly certain that if I fall in the shower and break more ribs while you’re choking on my cock, Mason will kill me.”