Fallen (Seven Deadly Sins #2)(77)
Author: Erin McCarthy

“I love you, too. It’s the only thing keeping me in control.” He kicked his briefs off to have a distraction from what she was doing, and to feel the freedom of being totally naked with her.

Her hands ran over his thighs, nails lightly scraping, while she bent over and took him into her mouth. Gabriel let one moan escape at the unexpected rush of ecstasy before he squeezed his lips and eyes shut. There was numbness in his hands from the pressure of the fists he was making, and his abs, thighs, biceps were all clenched tight as he fought for control, her wet, warm mouth over him, sucking slowly and languorously. Fingers tickled his testicles and he clung to his control, concentrating on enjoying her attention, even as he was painfully conscious of what he couldn’t offer her in return.

When her tongue flicked across the tip of his shaft, he managed to say, “Sara. That’s enough.” He couldn’t take any more. It had been so long since he’d felt the touch of a woman, the slick warm sensation of a woman’s mouth sliding over him again and again. The last time he had been with a woman he’d been drunk, like all the times before that, and now he was seventy-five years sober. Everything was also heightened with Sara, sharper, more intense, because of his feelings, his love for her.

It made a difference and he didn’t want to stroll too close to the edge too soon.

Sara sat up, her eyes bright with desire, lips shiny and wet, and she pushed her panties down over her hips and legs and dropped them onto the bed. For a second, she rested there, her hands on her ankles, her knees raised in the air, her back arching forward, hair spilling over her shoulders and chest as she looked at him, wide blue eyes unblinking, filled with love for him. Her body was gorgeous, delicate and feminine, soft curves and smooth skin, a lovely façade for an even lovelier woman. The display of her backside against the bed and her br**sts resting against her knees was tantalizing, delectable, and his mouth watered, his fingers twitched, his body ached to touch, to taste, to take.

Gabriel wanted to say something, was struggling for the words to describe how beautiful she was to him, when she turned and straddled him, a knee on either side of him, her warm inner thighs pressing down on his erection, and he lost his entire train of thought. Her hands touched the bed, to the right and left of his head, and he was covered by her, surrounded, the tips of her br**sts brushing his chest, and he reached back in desperation, grabbing the headboard and gripping it hard to resist the urge to touch. Not that he thought they weren’t at risk for her to become addicted to him anyway, given what she was doing, but he had to try, had to stop himself from contributing.

She was rubbing herself lightly over his cock, and her body was moist from want already, so that when she poised herself over him, he knew she would slide down easily. His mouth was hot from desire, his entire body clenched tightly, coiled in anticipation, more than ready for her.

Sara said, “Oh, I do love you,” then spread her thighs and pushed, sending her body down over his in a hot, wet collision.

Gabriel closed his eyes and let the moan escape, let himself release the vocal burst of pleasure, and then just lay still in the moment of throbbing, intense ecstasy. He was inside her, and he never wanted to be anywhere else.

Sara’s instinct was to close her eyes when she positioned herself over Gabriel and went down on him, her body giving, opening for him, everything hot and tight and sensitive as he filled her, but she wanted to see him. Forcing her eyes to stay open, she watched Gabriel lie still beneath her, his hands clenching the headboard of the hotel bed, knuckles white, his shoulders tense, dewy sweat sheen all over his skin, the hair at his temples damp with perspiration from his efforts to stay in control. She could feel him throbbing inside her, feel the strength and desire in him, knew he wanted to move his hips and thrust into her again and again. But he didn’t. He stayed still and let her be in control, let her own the moment, and she took it slow, savoring the ripples of pleasure that each movement tripped off in her. Goose bumps rose on her skin as she gripped the bedsheet and rocked her hips, moving herself up and down on the length of him.

It was everything she had expected and more. She had never been the one completely in control, had never taken with such single-mindedness, never loved a man with the entirety of her body, heart, mind, soul, the way she did Gabriel. Normally she liked to ride a man sitting straight up, but she wanted more of a connection with Gabriel, wanted her skin on his, wanted her breath intermingling with his, so she leaned forward, let their chests collide. She dropped her head by his chin and panted, the sensations acute and overwhelming and amazing. She loved the way her hair covered his, the blond and brown strands tangling together in a messy heap. Letting go of the sheet, she gripped a fistful of his hair instead, holding on as she moved faster, hips thrusting desperately as the tightness built inside her and the hard, slick slam of him into her body had her teeth tearing into her bottom lip.

It was good, so damn good, and she ground onto him, as her panting turned to moaning, which accelerated to yelling as she drowned in sensations, frantic and desperate, loving every second, but wanting more, harder. Then she paused, knew she was going over the edge, and gave one last thrust of her hips down onto him, and came with a soundless shudder.

Sara snapped her head back and rode out the waves of pleasure as she looked down at Gabriel. Something about the look on his face, the love she saw, the desperate clawing for control, the edgy darkness in his eyes, made her instinctively pull almost all the way off of him, then push down, as far as she could, and she saw and felt his own orgasm trigger. Together, it went on, and she gripped his hair and fought for breath, relaxing onto his shoulder.

They lay there, panting, her legs around him, bodies intimately connected, skin hot and flushed, her heart pounding, mind blissfully blank.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he said, his voice low and rough, his words punctuated by his heavy breathing.

Sara couldn’t move, limp and satiated on his chest. “Oh, actually, I have a pretty good idea.”

Gabriel knew that she wasn’t going back to New Orleans with him. He felt it in the way she clung to him, the softness of her eyes, the anxiety that slowly crawled up and overtook her languid post-sex contentment.

When she said, “I don’t know how to say this . . . ,” Gabriel put his finger on her lip.

“You don’t have to say anything. I know.”

“Know what?” She had pulled off of him and slid in alongside him on the bed, her arm across his chest as she stroked his skin lightly.