Mine To Take (Nine Circles) Page 18

  Gabriel backed her up to the dining table and before she knew quite what had happened, he’d lifted her on top of it, pushing her back. She sucked in a ragged breath as he slid her skirt up her thighs, then tugged hard on the sides of her panties. The lace that held them together was only a thin thread and it snapped easily. His gaze was riveted to the view between her legs and he didn’t look away as he tossed her underwear to the floor. As he spread her thighs wide.

  Honor trembled, her hands on the hard wood of the table, pushing herself up so she could see. The sight of him looking down at her, an unbearably hungry expression on his face, was so erotic she could hardly breathe.

  At her movement he glanced up, fire in his eyes. “You want to watch me eating you out, baby?”

  Heat coiled at the base of her spine. Why did she like the dirty things he said to her? Why did she like his roughness? His dominance? The way he took her control and broke it to pieces in front of her?

  You know why. Because you like letting go.

  “Y-yes,” she stammered hoarsely.

  “Stay like that then,” he ordered. “Take your eyes off me and I’ll stop.”

  So she watched him, her heartbeat echoing loudly in her ears as he leaned down, his big hands holding her legs spread wide, his palms hot on her skin. He licked her, running his tongue up the center of her sex, drawing a gasp from her as fire streaked over her nerve endings. Then he did it again, another long, slow lick that had her shaking, a cry building in her throat. “You taste good,” he growled, holding her down harder. “Are you watching? Because I’m fucking hungry.”

  The muscles in her thighs began to burn and she began to shake as he lowered his head again. The cry escaped as his mouth covered her, his tongue pushing inside her.

  She couldn’t tear her gaze away from the sight of his blond head between her thighs, of his large, strong hands on her pale skin. Gripping her tightly. Holding her. The eroticism of it made her pant.

  How easily he could hold her down, her strength no match for his. How fragile and vulnerable he made her feel next to his height and power. The brutal, dominant masculinity of him. Something about that excited her beyond words. Back in Vermont, it had felt threatening to have her veneer of control stripped away from her. But she didn’t feel threatened now. Now, she wanted the escape it gave her. A small taste of a freedom she’d never be able to take for herself.

  It made her want to test him. Push against him. See what would happen.

  As the pleasure gathered into a tight hard knot, she tried to close her legs, but he wouldn’t let her. Keeping them spread wide, he tasted her, exploring the folds of her sex with a precision and skill that had her soft moans beginning to change into a scream.

  Her head fell back, her eyes closing. “Gabriel … Gabriel, please…”

  But the mouth between her legs moved away.

  Honor’s eyes snapped open, her whole body drawn to the edge of breaking point. “No,” she panted hoarsely. “No, don’t—”

  “You looked away.” He’d pushed himself back but the look in his dark eyes was still hungry, still feral. “Bad girl.”

  A wave of heat swamped her. “B-but I … b-but…”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you want but it’ll be on my terms. When I say. When you can prove to me how obedient you are.”

  Obedience, yes, that’s what she wanted. She didn’t want to make decisions now. She wanted to be told what to do, so she didn’t have to think. “W-what do you want me to do?”

  “Just lie there and watch for now. Because in a minute or two you won’t be able to.”

  He stepped back from the table and in one smooth, fluid movement, he took his T-shirt off over his head, biceps flexing, exposing tanned skin and hard cut muscle. God, he was beautiful. She’d seen him naked before, in Vermont, but hadn’t had a chance to fully appreciate the sheer beauty of him till now. Broad shoulders, lean hips. An intricate Celtic cross tattooed over his heart. The one that had intrigued her back at the hotel. And the other one …

  Her gaze dropped to his fingers as they undid the buttons of his jeans, slowly revealing the Gothic characters of the words tattooed on his abdomen just beneath the waistband of his jeans. I will repay … Vengeance. But for what? And what did it mean to this man? This dangerous, beautiful, mysterious man …

  Gabriel pushed his jeans down, taking his boxers with them so that a second later he stood naked in front of her. And all thought left her head entirely. Because why bother thinking when this sight was in front of her? Muscled and lean and hard. So damn hard.

  She ached. Everywhere. Her thighs, her sex, her nipples. She wanted to be naked like him, wrapping her legs around his waist and taking the heat of him inside her. Taking the release she craved like air. But no, she couldn’t. He’d told her to lie there and watch and that’s what she had to do. Otherwise she wouldn’t get what she so badly wanted.

  Honor took a ragged breath as he tore open a condom packet he’d taken from the pocket of his jeans, watching as he gripped his cock and sheathed himself. Her anticipation began to build, her breathing coming faster.

  Gabriel came over to the table. “Obedient. That’s what I like to see. But the time for watching is over now, baby.” His hands settled on her hips and without any warning, he flipped her over onto her stomach, pulling her back so her toes only barely touched the ground, her hips resting on the edge of the table. “Hands behind you.”

  She did as she was told, turning her head to the side, her cheek pressed to the hard wood of the table, feeling his fingers close around her crossed wrists. Her legs were shaking as she tried to get her balance on the floor with her toes, desperate to brace herself. This was going to rip her apart, she knew it, and she wanted it. But she had to find some way of grounding herself so she didn’t get lost in the flood.

  Honor took a breath, the heat of his bare skin burning against the backs of her thighs. Then she gave a hoarse cry as he began to push inside her, feeling herself stretch around him, the pressure so intense she shuddered, pulling against his restraint, wanting her hands free to ease it, relieve it somehow.

  But he didn’t let her go, his fingers locked tight around her wrists, intensifying the feeling of being bound and somehow increasing the pleasure at the same time.

  “Gabriel.” His name was halfway between a plea and a sob. “It’s too much. I need…”

  He didn’t reply. Only continued to hold her wrists as his other hand slid beneath her hips, lifting her so her feet were no longer on the floor, the push of him inside her even deeper.

  She gave a low, ragged cry, because there was nothing to hold onto. Nothing to brace herself against. She couldn’t move, not even to pull away. Completely and utterly at his mercy. She began to tremble. “I can’t do this,” she whispered hoarsely. “I can’t…”

  Heat against her back, his voice low and rough near her ear. “You can, baby. I know you can.”

  “I can’t.”

  “You handled it back in Vermont. You can do it now.”

  Her skin felt too tight, like she was bursting out of it. “I don’t…”

  “You’re hot and tight and wet for me. I can feel it. You want to come. You want to come so badly.”

  Another wave of heat went through her. She did and yet she didn’t think she could deal with the intensity of this. With the feeling of helplessness, of pleasure. Of total surrender to him.

  You want to surrender to him. You want him to make you. So you can be free of control. So you can let go.

  “Give it to me, Honor.” His voice was full of darkness and heat. “Give it to me now.” And he drew back, sliding out of her, then in again, a deep, slow thrust. And again. And again, until she’d forgotten why she couldn’t handle it. Forgotten everything except the ecstasy that was breaking her. Cracking her wide open.

  He began to move faster, his arm around her hips, his hand on her wrists, holding her tight, giving her no choice but to take whatever he chose to give her.
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  And she couldn’t say the words to make him stop. Something inside her wouldn’t let her. Instead she gave a hoarse moan and closed her eyes, surrendering completely.

  The climax, when it finally exploded inside her, left her sobbing against the table, tears on her cheeks. She felt him move harder and deeper, his breathing becoming harsh and ragged. Then abruptly he let her wrists go, his arms sweeping beneath her, gathering her against him as he gave one last hard, convulsive thrust and called her name in a raw voice, holding her tight as his own release hit.

  Honor kept her eyes closed as he shuddered against her, as the post-orgasm aftershocks moved through her body like little flashes of static electricity.

  This had probably been a huge mistake. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to care.

  The world she’d known for the past fifteen years had shattered and if the only thing she could take from it was the wild, heady pleasure of being in Gabriel’s arms, then hell, that’s what she’d take.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Gabriel slapped a hand on the table beside Honor, bracing himself as the after effects of the orgasm ricocheted through him. He was shaking.

  Holy fuck. What the hell was wrong with him?

  He stared down at her. She lay facedown on the table, her skirt bunched around her waist, revealing the smooth, white skin of her perfect ass. Her head was turned to the side, an inky black veil of hair hiding her face. She didn’t move and shit, he didn’t think he could either. He was still inside her and the feel of her body clasping him tightly was threatening to make him hard all over again.

  How had it happened? He’d wanted to stop her from leaving so he could get that fucking information about Tremain.

  Except she’d wanted to protect her stepfather. Which had made him so angry. What had that prick done to deserve her loyalty? Especially when she was faced with the evidence that the man hadn’t been who she’d thought. He’d wanted to tell her then, all about his mother. About what that bastard had done to her.

  But he hadn’t. She’d been soft and warm in his arms, shock and betrayal written all over her face. Because Jesus, she hadn’t only been let down by the man she thought of as a father, but she’d also found out her actual father’s secrets went deeper than anyone had ever guessed. He’d wanted to give her something then. Something to take away her anguish. And the only thing he could think of to give had been pleasure.

  Except he’d forgotten what she did to him. Forgotten how the taste of her, the sound of her crying his name, got under his guard. Totally screwed with his detachment.

  How intoxicating it was to have her surrendering her control to him. Fuck, he’d felt like God himself when all the tension had gone out of her and she’d given herself up to him.

  Trusting him.

  A cold hand squeezed around his chest. Shit, he couldn’t breathe.

  She couldn’t trust him. She couldn’t.

  Gabriel withdrew and shoved himself away from her. He walked quickly into the hallway and went into the bathroom, dealing with the condom before going to the sink and turning on the faucet. He splashed some water onto his face, his hands still shaking.

  This was insane. Okay, so there was something about Honor that really got to him. That made him want to take her rough and hard, imprint himself on her in some way. Rip away that controlled exterior and force her to acknowledge him.

  He didn’t know why he needed that from her. It didn’t make any sense. She was just a woman and he’d had women before. Many women.

  But not like this. Not with their hands behind their backs and their feet off the ground.

  Shit. Screwing her was not supposed to be the goal here. Information was. Which made him escaping into the bathroom ridiculous, especially after making such a big deal about her staying.

  Gabriel dried his face off with a towel then strode back into the lounge area, hoping like fuck his badly timed exit hadn’t resulted in Honor leaving. But no, she was still there, leaning against the table, smoothing down her skirt.

  As he came in she looked up, and apart from the streaks of mascara on her cheeks, she looked as cool and untouchable as ever.

  “What? Worried I might leave?” she said, an acid bite to her words.

  “Don’t think I haven’t forgotten about Tremain,” he said. Or the connection between him and Honor’s father. A connection he hadn’t known about until now.

  “I haven’t, don’t worry.” As if unable to help herself, her gaze dipped down his body, color rising to her cheeks, and once again he felt his cock getting hard. Wanting her.

  Why bother fighting it? Why can’t you get the information you need and have her, too? Especially if she’s into it …

  Yeah, she had been into it. She’d obeyed his rules, laying there as he’d instructed. Then she’d put her hands behind her back when he’d asked and although she’d told him she couldn’t handle it, she hadn’t said stop. She’d only screamed as her orgasm had taken her, her body griping him tight like she’d never let him go.

  The way she had back in Vermont.

  A burning excitement he’d never consciously let himself feel before began to spread throughout his body.

  Honor stared at him as if sensing it, the smoothing movements she was making to her skirt becoming slower. “What?” she said huskily. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  He stalked toward her. “I think you know why.”

  The table was at her back; she had nowhere to go. Her chin lifted, her shoulders squared. Her gaze flickered though, and it wasn’t fear he saw there but excitement. Yes, she wanted this, too. Wanted this release as badly as he did.

  And just like him, she was afraid to want it.

  Well, maybe he’d make the decision for both of them. Maybe it was time not to be afraid any longer.

  He backed her up against the table, putting his hands on the edge on both sides of her, caging her in. “Why do you think I’m looking at you like that? Because there’s another reason I don’t want you to go.”

  Her throat moved, a convulsive swallow, and he couldn’t help himself. He reached up and put his fingers around her neck, his palm resting against the base of her throat. He heard the sharp breath she took, saw the way her pupils dilated, felt her pulse race against his palm. “I don’t think…”

  “You want this, Honor. I know you do. And so do I.” He stroked the side of her neck with his thumb, her skin soft, smooth, and delicate beneath his touch. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. Only pleasure. So why not let yourself have it?”

  Thick black lashes descended, veiling her gaze for a heartbeat. Then they rose again, her eyes dark and deep as a midnight sky. “You’re wrong,” she said softly. “I’m not afraid. Not anymore.” And this time it was she who kissed him, rising onto her toes to press her mouth to his, her palms flat against his bare chest, driving the breath from his lungs.

  He let her kiss him, tasting the sweetness of her, gripping her throat so she knew he was there, that he was still in charge. Because he had to be. If he wanted to indulge himself with her, he had to have the reins tightly in his grasp.

  Her hands slid up over his chest, around his neck as the kiss deepened, her body arching against his. She wasn’t holding back now and he could taste it. God, the way she’d surrendered to him on the table had been … fucking mind-blowing.

  He wanted more.

  Gabriel kept one hand on her throat while he ran the other up the back of her thigh beneath her skirt and up farther over her bare butt. “This skirt,” he murmured against her mouth. “I want it off. The blouse, too.” Then he released her and stepped back. “Take it off while I watch.”

  She’d gone pink but she didn’t hesitate or look away as she undid her blouse and took it off, dropping it over one of the dining chairs. Or as she undid her bra, the black lace falling away to reveal the smooth, alabaster skin of her breasts, her nipples pink and hard.

  “Slower,” he ordered softly, unable to take his eyes off her because Jesus Chr
ist, she was beautiful.

  She obeyed, undoing the button then the zipper of her skirt in a slow, sensual movement, the black wool easing down her hips and thighs. Pushing it off, she stepped out of the fabric, then bent to undo the zippers on her calf-length black boots.

  “Leave those on,” he said. “Naked with only the boots is sexy as fuck.”

  Honor straightened, blue eyes meeting his, excitement and desire clear in her gaze. A warm, pink flush washed over her skin as he stepped closer to her, giving her beautiful body a slow, heated once-over.

  God, he wanted to do bad things to her. Make her sob. Scream his name. Shake apart at the seams. Strip her down to nothing but sensation. Raw, animal feeling. Affect her the way she affected him.

  Gabriel bent and picked his T-shirt up off the floor, folded it into a strip, then held it between his fists so she could see. He didn’t say anything. She’d know what it meant.

  Her eyes widened but there wasn’t a trace of fear there, only a flare of something hot. She took a couple of steps toward him but didn’t wait for him to put it on her, taking it from his hands herself and placing the cotton over her eyes, blindfolding herself. Then she turned around, holding it on so he could tie it for her.

  The simple gesture made his breath catch for reasons he didn’t fully understand. Frowning, he tried to ignore the sensation, tying the fabric into a firm knot at the back of her head. She stood motionless, her hands resting on the table in front of her for balance.

  She was blind now.

  He pulled her back against him, the soft heat of her pressing against his rapidly hardening cock. With her sight gone, her focus would be on nothing but sensation. Sensation he was going to give her.

  “Put your arms around my neck,” he said in her ear, his hands resting lightly on her hips.

  She did so, her arms coming up and back around his neck, her body arching in a graceful bow. He let his hands slide up her abdomen, feeling the delicate musculature of her torso and then the gentle weight of her breasts as he cupped them in his palms. Her nipples were hard and she trembled as he pinched them gently, making her gasp.