Heat drenches my skin as he stretches out on top of me without touching our bodies together. Keeping his weight on his arms, he flicks his tongue over a welt on my shoulder, making my nerve endings pop with electricity. Goose bumps break out on my skin when he blows air over the wet trail of his tongue. He continues down my body, treating each lash with the same care, until he reaches the dimples of my ass. As he licks and blows over my ass cheeks, moisture gathers between my legs. This goes on for a long time, until my clit is swollen and pulsing in need.
The first time he lays his hands on me after kissing my bruises is to remove my underwear. Gripping my hips, he lifts my ass. He takes his time to position me like he wants, kneeling with my legs spread and my forehead resting on the pillow. With my ass and sex exposed to him, he sits back and watches. I can’t see, but I feel his eyes on my body, burning on my naked parts. His palms glide over my buttocks before he takes a cheek in each hand, parting me like fruit while running his nose from my coccyx to my opening. A shiver runs through my organs. My depraved body knows what’s coming and wants it. His tongue flattens on my clit, warm and wet. I cry out as the raspy, hot surface draws over my slit, all the way to my asshole. Somewhere in the back of my mind there’s a cry of embarrassment, but it’s no use giving rein to the sentiment. Gabriel will do what he wants.
He continues to lap me like this until I’m desperate to come. Unable to stand the slow torture any longer, I moan loudly into the pillow. He hums his approval and finally gives me what I want. Catching my clit gently between his teeth, he flicks his tongue over the nub––fast, but too light.
My hands fist into the sheets. “Ah, God. Please.”
“Please what?”
“Please make me come.”
As soon as I verbally express my need, he opens me wider with his hands and nips at my folds, alternating the gentle bites with sucking on my clit. It takes me seconds to come with a violent spasm of my womb. Pins and needles prick my genitals. My toes curl. I can’t take more.
“Stop. Please.”
Begging doesn’t help. He milks me dry until I’m a quivering mess, and only then does he push on my back to lower my pelvis to the bed. I’m shaking and boneless. I never thought it could be like this. He lowers over me, at last pressing our bodies together, until my trembling stops. With a kiss on my neck, he lifts from the bed. I turn on my side to look at him, some part of me needing to see his expression, but he turns his face away.
He taps his fingers on my lower back. “Go back to sleep.”
Then he’s gone.
For a long time, I lie in the dark, trying to understand Gabriel. I don’t get it. What is he doing to me?
* * *
Gabriel
It doesn’t help that Valentina is around every hour of every day. I’m a walking hard-on, suffering from constant blue balls. No amount of wanking is enough to relieve my ache. I want inside her. Deep. Deep enough to hurt. The only niggle is her virginity. It’s a barrier to me, literally and psychologically. I don’t want to be the one to break her that way. Her first time needs to be special, not monstrous. Even I am not that cruel. She deserves a pretty face and gentle kisses, not a scarface who loves to fuck rough.
In this lies the problem. I can’t take her virginity, and I can’t stomach the thought of someone else taking it, either. I won’t last much longer without relief. I consider calling Helga, but when I think of another woman, I can’t get it up. The image of Valentina’s strung-up body with her underwear around her ankles haunts my nights. I wish I’d taken a photo so I’d have something concrete to jackoff to.
The emergency with Carly is further fuel on my nerves. I’m not sure if I should punish her or call in professional help. I’m not a great moral example. I have no ground to judge or discipline her. If there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that Carly won’t live the life I lead. My mother never gave me the choice. She put a gun in my hand when I was twelve and told me to pull the trigger. When I couldn’t, she shot me in the foot.
There’s no point in talking to Sylvia. Sylvia is way too much like Magda. God knows why I ever thought we had a chance. I loved her. I truly did. I believed she’d learn to love me with time, but the only thing that became clear with time was her ambition. What she wanted was my money and protection, not my love. She married me on her father’s orders and got out as fast as she could, as soon as she produced the heir expected of her. Her sacrifice got her what she wanted. As the mother of my child, she’ll always have my money and protection. After Carly, she insisted on a hysterectomy, ensuring she wouldn’t bear me any more children. Sylvia hated every minute of being pregnant. She was devastated when the doctor confirmed the results of the pregnancy test. Carly stretched and scarred her body. Sylvia never forgave me for that. The minute Carly was born, Sylvia went on a diet and a binge of plastic surgery, letting the nanny take care of our child. Maybe Carly subconsciously felt the rejection. She was a colicky baby. She’s never been an easy child, but she’s my daughter, and the only human being I love in this world. I wish I knew how to fix this.