Mr. Smithfield - Page 50

“I’ve been thinking about this all night. I’ve been imagining all the ways I’m going to fuck you,” he said between heavy breaths. “First it’s going to be like this up against the door. Then I’m going to go down on you and make you scream. Then I’m going to fuck your mouth. And you’re going to come and come and come.”

It was too much. His words. The friction. The feeling of being impaled on him, my back against the hard wood of the door. “Gabriel,” I cried out.

“That’s right,” he said, his voice softening, his pace slowing but not stopping as I shuddered against him.

He lifted me up as I floated down from my climax, and I pulled him closer. I wanted to stay like this for as long as possible—him and me, joined. Connected. Together. In every way.

“You okay?” he asked as he sat me on the kitchen table and began to undress me and then himself. His cock stood thick and upright against his belly, and my eyes trailed up to its crown, to his flat stomach, his hard chest, his wide shoulders, and that oh-so-beautiful face.

I nodded.

“You seem . . . a little sad.”

I shook my head. “I’m not sad at all.” I paused. My instinct was to hold back. To keep things sunny and light. But the fact was, he seemed to like to hear everything about me. The good and the bad. And I wanted him to know how I felt about him. I wanted to be real with him. “I really like you, Gabriel,” I said. It was important he knew that. Important that he understood this wasn’t just about the sexual chemistry. It wasn’t just about the way he was wise and caring. It wasn’t any one thing. It was everything.

He paused and looked at me as I sat naked on the table in front of him and cupped my face. “I really like you too.” He stroked his thumb over my cheekbone. “More and more.”

I tilted my head into his hand, and he bent to press his lips against mine. If whatever we had was growing stronger as time went on, then how was I going to feel when August arrived, fresh with its invitation to travel? Would my wanderlust fade, burrow itself beneath my feelings for Gabriel? We had just over a month before I’d be gone. And then what?

Before I could drown in what-ifs, Gabriel’s insistent tongue and urgent lips worked their way down my neck, between my breasts and over my belly. Roughly, he pulled my legs apart and kneeled before he buried his head between my thighs. He was impatient and greedy, and he made me feel as if I were the most valuable prize he could ever wish for.

His tongue soothed me at first, long, languid, slow strokes that calmed my pulsing clitoris and gave me a chance to revel in his desire for me. I sighed and his tongue grew firmer and more insistent, ratcheting up my yearning for more of him. He knew, and began to circle and flick his tongue in a circuitous release of pleasure that climbed up my body.

My body had surrendered and my orgasm galloped toward me, unrelenting and urgent. Just as I began to fall, he took away his tongue and his fingers and stood.

My eyes widened as I waited for him to explain himself. But he said nothing and simply lay me down on the table as if I were the main course at his one-man banquet. He stood at one end of the table and I shifted, understanding Gabriel was a man who always kept his word.

He was going to fuck my mouth.

He guided my head off the end of the table and tilted it back. “I’m going to get so deep—right at the back of your throat.”

I groaned and opened my legs so he could see what his words did to me. What his tongue and his cock had already done to me. I was red and swollen and so, so wet.

He slid against my tongue with a groan and swept his hands through my hair, holding my head as he pulled back and rammed his cock into my throat.

Any other man and I would have said no, but I wanted this just as much as he did. I wanted him to fuck me exactly how he wanted to fuck me. I wanted him to take everything I had to give. I wanted everything with him.

He slid his hands over my breasts, twisting my nipples, causing me to moan at the sparks of pleasure it set up as he kept fucking me where I lay.

“Autumn, you’re so gorgeous,” he growled. He dipped his hand between my legs. “And so fucking wet.”

I came as soon as he touched me. Shuddering as he withdrew from my mouth. “Oh baby. You’re still so wound up.”

Tags: Louise Bay Romance
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