I stare at my reflection, still feeling awkward, but knowing that he’s right. It occurs to me that I’ve never really felt completely comfortable in my skin, especially around Gabriel.
My eyes trace the lines of my short, curvy figure and I try to dislodge the lump of emotion in my throat. All I can see is pale skin, dark hair, and a heap of imperfections staring back at me. Eleanore’s words haunt me. Big nose, fat thighs, ugly duckling. I want to feel pretty, but it feels like an illusion. I try to turn away again.
Gabriel’s hands press my forearms onto the dresser before me, effectively arching my back into him. He skates his fingertips down the sensitive skin of my open back before he bends down and whispers in my ear.
“I’m going to fuck you, right here, like this. And I want you to watch, Victoria. Watch the way your body responds to my touch. Watch the pleasure that I receive from you.”
I swallow and try not to look too eager, but his hooded gaze is setting off all sorts of crazy reactions in my body.
“Do not close your eyes,” he commands. “Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I breathe.
“Good girl,” he purrs.
His hands leisurely stroke the silky fabric of my dress, caressing my waist, my hips, and then my butt. A shiver of delight runs through me as he places his palm on the skin of my lower back, pressing me flat against the dresser. Then he stoops down, gathering the fabric of my dress and inching it slowly up my legs and over my hips. He groans when he sees the black lacey panties I’m wearing, cupping the cheeks of my butt in his hands. He slides the scant material down my legs, lifting me to pull them off and spreading my legs at the same time.
I’m open and exposed as he sinks to his knees, pressing his face into my wet center. Without pretense, he grabs my hips and pulls me against his hot tongue. I watch myself mewling with pleasure as he licks and caresses me with perfect strokes. His head bobbing between my thighs has to be the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen, and it quickly sends me right over the edge.
I’m still gasping for air when he stands up behind me, ripping off his jacket and dress shirt. He unzips his pants and lets them fall to the ground below, revealing his muscular legs and throbbing cock. He takes the engorged flesh into his hand and strokes it twice before positioning himself behind me.
I watch his reflection as he presses against my back, his eyes hooded as he sinks inside of me. He takes his time, allowing me to expand around him as he grips my hips and kisses my neck. The minute I’m comfortable, he starts to move. I watch the transition from man to beast unfold before me, his lips parting, and his eyes flaring with molten heat. He pounds into me with unrestrained hunger, as if he can’t help himself.
I can feel his muscles contracting throughout his body, working against me as he grunts and nips at my ear. I cry out with every thrust, the pressure rising to a powerful crescendo.
“Come, Victoria. Come for me, now!” he orders. And at his simple command, the walls burst around me. I nearly collapse, but Gabriel catches me just as he shudders inside of me.
A moment later, he pulls me into his arms and unzips my dress from behind. It falls to the floor like a soft red cloud beneath me, and he scoops me up in his arms, gingerly placing me into his bed. I let my head fall back on the pillow as he removes my stilettos, massaging each foot with gentle fingers. And then he lays down beside me, staring softly into my eyes. He never takes his fingers off of me, trailing them up and down my waist until my collar catches his attention.
“I love that you wore this for me,” he says. “You have no idea how sexy it is when you do things to please me.”
“I like to please you.” My fingers brush the collar around my neck. “And I love knowing that it means I belong to you. I don’t think there’s anything sexier than that.”
A smile creeps across his beautiful lips, and it’s one of those rare moments I’m certain only I get to see. Gabriel Maddox, relaxed and happy.
“That’s good baby,” he rasps. “It makes me so happy to hear that.”
I take a deep breath, deciding that while we’re on the subject, I’d like to give voice to one of my nagging thoughts. “I like that it’s aesthetically pleasing to you,” I say. “But I want you to use it for its intended purpose too.”
He sits back hesitantly, his brow furrowing in concern. “Victoria, its intended purpose is to serve as a reminder of the fact that you belong to me.”
“Yes.” I roll my eyes. “As if I need reminding of that.”
“Perhaps it’s me who needs reminding,” he says flatly.
His words take me by surprise, and I thread my fingers through his on instinct, holding him closer.
“What do you mean?”
“I just mean that when I look at you sometimes, I still can’t believe how lucky I was to be the guy on the street that you crashed into. It could have been anyone, but it was me.”