“Gabriel.” She said his name, breathed his name, drew the masculine scent of him into her lungs. “Gabriel.”
“We are just getting started, beautiful one,” he answered softly, raising his head to smile at her.
He was so handsome, so perfect for her, Francesca could feel tears burning in her throat. There in the night, the night that called to something wild in them, he looked at her with eyes burning with desire. Hot. Urgent. Demanding. She had waited so long for his eyes to look at her like that.
And then he was driving sanity from her mind, replacing it with frenzied passion. Francesca could think of nothing but having his body buried deep within hers. Once more his palm pushed against her sensitive core, and then he slowly inserted his finger, all the time watching her face, watching the pleasure wash over her as her tight sheath clenched around him.
“It is not enough.” There was a smile in his voice; he bent his head to taste her again even as his finger slowly eased out of her. Two fingers stretched her, pushed deep so that she gasped with pleasure. “And that is not enough.” There was pure masculine satisfaction in his voice, on his face.
She could feel it again, the hot pressure, molten lava building and building until her entire body was in danger of imploding. He pushed into her, caressed, stroked, his tongue teased and danced. “This is what I want, honey, more, come for me. I want to see it on your face, I want to know you feel it, too.” His voice softened, went husky. “Come for me, my love, just let go.”
With a choking cry she let herself be taken over the edge, her body clenching and spiraling out of her control. His mouth heightened the effect, bringing her an endless orgasm that seemed to go on forever and yet was not enough. She closed her eyes and just gave herself up to pure feeling, to the beauty of his hands and tongue in her body doing slow, merciless things that only made the fire hotter. She was writhing now, her hips unable to stay still beneath the assault on her senses. Then he added his mind, thrusting deeply into hers, picturing things he wanted to do before he did them, so that she could feel her body through his mind, the silken heat, the clenching, tight muscles.
Francesca could feel Gabriel’s mounting desire, the way his body burned and ached, hardening to the point of pain. His hands were becoming rougher, more demanding, and she reveled in the thought of his own loss of control. “I want you inside me, Gabriel,” she murmured softly, a demand. “I want your body in mine. I don’t want you to treat me as if I might break either.” She said it deliberately, knowing what it would do to his body, knowing he was caught up in the same storm of fire as she was.
She looked beyond him to the bank of mirrors, saw his perfectly formed masculine body, the defined muscles, the long shiny hair, and her body fragmented again, an explosion of such force it rocked her, shook her, so that she cried out with the fury of it. “Gabriel, now, right now.”
“On the floor, where I can go deep, I want to be so deep inside you, you will never get me out.” The admission was torn from him as he dragged her from the counter and laid her on the thick carpet. He followed her down, needing her so much he was thick and hard and aching with urgency.
Francesca lifted her hips to meet him as he surged forward, penetrating her, filling her, her body slick and wet and hot, coiling around his tightly. Her breath escaped; his left his body. The rush was addicting and complete. Gabriel caught her hips in his hands, and set a rhythm, using hard, sure strokes that drove deeper and deeper to find her soul.
She turned her head to look at them in the mirror, to see the beauty of their bodies coming together in perfect accord. His face was etched with concentration, with ecstasy, with total focus. She knew what he wanted before he did, every small adjustment of her body so he could penetrate even deeper, fill her until they were both gasping with the pleasure of it. She lifted her head, watching him intently as she flicked his chest with her tongue, lapped at a bead of moisture. His hands tightened, his body clenched. Her teeth nipped him gently, scraped in a caress over his skin.