Damage (Collateral Damage 2)

“Look at me,” he says.

I shake my head. I’m embarrassed and hurt, and a part of me hates him for doing this to me.

“Gabriela, I said look at me.”

I suck in a shuddering breath.

In reply he brings his hand down in the center of my ass, making me arch and twist in my effort to get away from him.

“Look. At. Me.” He’s not even a little winded and I think he can do this all night long. He probably enjoys it.

I turn my cheek into the couch and force myself to meet his eyes. “Why are you hurting me?”

“Because you force my hand.”

“I don’t…I—”

“I can make you feel good. I want to make you feel good,” he says, rubbing my butt again. He makes circles on one cheek, then the other. I calm down a little and his hand slides to the tops of my thighs.

I bite my lip, holding my breath because this touch, the look in his eyes, it’s different.

He never shifts his gaze from mine while his fingers travel to my center, to touch me lightly, like he’s testing. I realize then what I feel against my belly, it’s him.

He’s aroused.

And as little sense as it makes, so am I.

His hand is gone for a moment, wrapping around the inside of my thigh and I feel wetness from his fingers—my wetness—as he guides my legs apart, just a little, just enough.

I press the balls of my feet into the carpet. I don’t move as he shifts his gaze to my ass. His fingers slide up along my pussy, through the wet folds and up, just touching my other hole before sliding back down. My back arches involuntarily when they brush my clit.

“Gabriela,” he starts, and I realize I’ve closed my eyes. “Look at me, Gabriela.”

I shake my head, eyes tightly shut.

He slides a finger back up to my asshole and holds it there. I’m mortified and turned on and I can’t seem to breathe.

“Open your eyes and look at me.” He brushes his finger over tight hole.

My face burns as I open them to find his eyes on me, darker now, pupils dilated.

He slides his fingers down to my pussy again, rubs a moment longer. Him touching me, it’s different than when I touch myself. Better. He softens his hold on my wrists, lets me slip them from his grip.

“Put your hands underneath you and don’t move.”

I should fight him. Push him off. Tell him to go to hell. But instead, I put my hands underneath myself like he said and watch as with his free hand, he rubs one cheek, then spreads me open.

I’m embarrassed and aroused as he shifts his gaze down and his fingers are moving in my folds, circling my clit.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, drawing his hand away, turning me, sliding me to the floor between his legs so I’m kneeling there.

He cups one hand on the back of my head to draw me up. He kisses me while he slides his other hand down over the seam of my sex to cup me, to rub. When he bites my lip, I open my mouth and my breathing comes in gasps as he slips his tongue inside my mouth and his finger inside my sex and I think this is the most intimate, erotic thing. This. Connected like this. Him and me. Close. So close.

His thumb circles my nub, presses against it. The finger inside me hurts a little but then it’s gone and he’s rubbing my clit and I think I’m going to come.

He shifts his mouth to my ear and my hands are squeezing his thighs, my body arching into his palm. Moving against him.

“That’s good, Gabriela. Like that. You’re so wet.”

I tilt my face up. I want to kiss him again. I want him to kiss me.

He must know because he smiles down at me and when he does kiss me it’s more a sucking of my lower lip than a kiss. I close my eyes and taste him, and I hear myself, my gasps and sighs. And when I slide my hand up along his thigh, I can feel him.

“I want to taste you,” he whispers, and my eyes flutter open as he draws his hand from between my legs and lifts me to lay me back on the ottoman. He spreads my legs and drops down between my knees. With his fingers on either side of my pussy, he opens and looks at me for a long time and him looking at me like this, it makes me feel so strange and all I can do is watch him as he takes me in.

“Stefan,” I start, but I stop because I don’t know what I’m going to say.

“You are so beautiful,” he says.

He runs his chin over my clit, making me gasp at the rough feel of stubble and the instant his mouth closes over it, I gasp, the sensation foreign, his mouth wet and soft and when he begins to suck that hard little nub, I cry out, reaching for him, gripping his hair to pull him closer as my thighs squeeze around him and I come. I come hard, harder than I’ve ever come and I think I’m saying his name. I think that’s me saying his name again and again and again, gasping it, desperate, like I’m gasping for life’s breath.