And he hadn’t been able to get her out of his head! She gave herself full permission really to drown in that admission, really to luxuriate in it.
Paris had been an adventure but she had managed to convince herself that it had somehow been acceptable because she had been abroad...just a passing fever. But this was really an adventure because she was here, in her stamping ground, making a conscious decision to do something because it felt inevitable and somehow right, even if it was wrong.
She couldn’t explain it, even to herself. She just knew that she had to sleep with him, had to follow this through to the bitter end, however and whenever that might arise, even if it meant saying goodbye to her job in the process.
They went up the stairs silently. Sure enough, when Alice looked to her right there was no light on in her mother’s room. She turned left, thankful that her bedroom was at the end of the narrow corridor, and she pushed open the door, heart beating so fast she had to make herself take deep breaths just to steady her spiralling excitement.
She could still taste him in her mouth...it was a turn-on.
‘Your bedroom?’ Gabriel asked, looking around him. Moonlight streamed through the window, picking up bits and pieces of her belongings: a rocking chair in the corner, on which sat an oversized, battle-weary stuffed teddy bear; furniture that looked as though it had never been made to last; a dressing table with some framed pictures on it.
‘Don’t talk.’ She pressed her body against his and her eyelids fluttered closed as he slipped his hands under her jumper. This time he undid the bra and she released him for a few seconds so that she could pull the bra and jumper over her head so that she was standing in front of him, half-naked.
‘You’re so damned beautiful...’ Gabriel cupped her breasts with his hands and massaged them, rubbing the pad of his thumbs over her nipples as he did, and felt the breath catch in her throat. He leaned down and kissed her neck, then licked it, then nibbled his way up to her mouth so that she could lose herself again in another of those devastating kisses.
Alice pushed her hands under his jumper, seeking the warmth of his flesh. He had small, flat brown nipples and she teased them just as he was teasing hers and felt him respond.
Slowly they made their way to her bed, unable to break apart from one another, kissing and holding each other and stumbling a little in the dark until her knees made contact with the side of the bed and she fell, taking him with her and stifling another giggle.
This was nothing like the luxurious bedroom they had shared in Paris, with its fabulous, ridiculously lavish en suite bathroom. This was basic, but in fairness at no point had she detected anything condescending in his reaction to her mother’s house.
He pushed himself up and removed his shirt and jumper, tossing them carelessly to the ground, then he stood so that he could rid himself of the rest of his clothing—trousers, boxers, socks. His shoes, he had already kicked off.
Then he was back on the bed and very, very slowly he unzipped and pulled down the black trousers, taking her lacy briefs with them at the same time.
He tossed them aside with one hand while using the other hand to part her legs.
Not that there was any need for him to do that. Her body knew just what to do when it came to making love with him. She settled back with her arm resting lightly over her eyes, her limbs wonderfully loose.
She knew what he would do. He knew how much she loved it, loved having him down there between her legs. And still, the moment his tongue flicked against her, she couldn’t prevent the soft moan that escaped her lips.
She arched up, pressing herself against his questing mouth and exploding inside as he licked and teased the throbbing bud. She was so wet for him, so turned on, so ready to have him thrusting inside her—but he continued to torment her by remaining where he was, lavishing all his attention on her aching core and the soft, tender skin of her inner thighs.
Then he moved up to her breasts, leaving her on the very brink of coming. He drew one nipple into his mouth and played with the other, smiling against her body as he felt her desperate efforts to make as little noise as possible.
‘Wrap your legs around me,’ he commanded.
But first he had to get hold of protection, which was damned difficult, because it involved finding his wallet and then going through it in the darkness, while they both craved release.
He never took chances. Ever. It was one of the most significant things that indicated just how he felt about any woman being able to tie him down. Even at the very height of passion, he would rather walk away from making love than take a chance on an unwanted pregnancy.
Why was that? Didn’t everyone, to a greater or lesser extent, have within them the urge to procreate, to see their bloodline continue? She had never asked him, had known that that was a boundary line she would cross only at her own peril.