Page 144 of Gabriel: Duke of Bencalor

“For­get the cava.” He stood, hold­ing out his hand with a sub­tle air of com­mand that sent a shim­mer of de­sire through her. She laid her palm against his so he could pull her up­right.

He bent his head to press his mouth to hers. All the resid­ual adren­a­line in her body ig­nited in a whoosh of arousal.

When Gabriel pushed his thigh be­tween hers, she wound her fists into his shirt to pull her­self closer to him. His hard mus­cles and rov­ing hands sent licks of de­sire curl­ing over her skin to coil in her belly.

Gabriel took her hand and led her back to the bed­room, clos­ing and lock­ing the door be­hind them. He pushed her jacket off her shoul­ders and let it fall on the floor. She tugged his T-shirt up his chest, and he raised his arms to pull it the rest of the way off.

She started to trace the dragon twist­ing up his side, but he grabbed her wrists to lift them over her head with one hand. “I need you now,” he said, draw­ing her shirt over her head be­fore he re­leased her to yank it from her arms. Flick­ing her bra open, he twitched it off and cupped her breasts in his palms, mak­ing her moan and push against him as his touch sent rip­ples of heat through her.

They broke apart and reached for each other’s belt buck­les at the same time. With a few swift move­ments they were naked and star­ing at each other’s bod­ies.

Gabriel wrenched open the bed­side ta­ble’s drawer and pulled out a con­dom be­fore he ges­tured to­ward the bath­room door.

Quinn stepped into the lux­u­ri­ous room, her bare feet hit­ting cold mar­ble. The glass en­clo­sure, lined with the same gray-veined white mar­ble as the floor, was equipped with a rain­fall show­er­head and had a built-in niche stocked with an ar­ray of soaps and sham­poos. It was, how­ever, small. “This is go­ing to be tight,” she said.

“I’m count­ing on it.” Gabriel reached in to turn on the wa­ter. “Hot or warm?”

“Scorch­ing.”

He stuck his hand in the stream of wa­ter. “Good enough.” Then he stepped un­der it and pulled her in with him.

“Hey, it’s still cold,” she yelped.

He wrapped his arms around her, his cock hard­en­ing against her belly. “Not for long.”

Her nip­ples tight­ened even fur­ther un­der the chill of the wa­ter so that when they pressed into his skin, plea­sure surged through her like an elec­tric cur­rent. The siz­zle made her toes curl on the wet mar­ble. “Gabriel, yes!” she said on an out­rush of breath.

He turned her so that his cock nes­tled be­tween the cheeks of her bot­tom. Slid­ing one hand around to cup her breast, he skimmed the other down be­tween her legs. She tilted her head back to rest against his shoul­der while his fin­gers played over her cli­toris, wind­ing de­sire deep within her as she pulsed against his touch. “In­side me,” she begged.

He slipped first one and then two fin­gers deep within her and groaned in her ear. “So hot. So wet.” He flexed his hips to rub the rigid length of his cock against her ass.

The warm­ing wa­ter cas­caded over her skin, adding to the bar­rage of sen­sa­tions, and the ten­sion height­ened to near cli­max.

“The con­dom.” She tugged at his wrist to pull his fin­gers away from her.

He mut­tered un­der his breath but swung open the shower door and grabbed the con­dom from the van­ity. Tear­ing the en­ve­lope open with his teeth, he rolled the con­dom on.

She mea­sured the length of his legs against her diminu­tive height and bent over to hold on to the grab bar.

“Dios mío!” Gabriel rasped.

She braced her­self for his thrust, but in­stead she felt his hands stroking down her back, glid­ing with the wa­ter droplets, then over her but­tocks where he cupped her flesh like it was some­thing he trea­sured. “So beau­ti­ful. Curved like the finest gui­tar,” he said be­fore slid­ing his fin­gers be­tween her legs to open her for his cock. He pushed just the tip in be­fore he wrapped his hands around her hips.

With a sin­gle, pow­er­ful move­ment, he drove all the way into her, mak­ing her cry out and arch as the sur­prise and full­ness trig­gered her or­gasm. Her mus­cles clamped around him with ex­quis­ite vi­o­lence be­fore they re­leased and squeezed again. Plea­sure blos­somed in her body like a blood-red rose.

He with­drew and plunged in again. She pushed back into him, grind­ing her clit against his balls to pro­pel her or­gasm even higher and mak­ing him cry out. “Yes! Dios mío, yes!”

Then his rhythm be­came fren­zied un­til he locked her against him while his cli­max pulsed. “Quinn, car­iño mío, Quinn!” His shout echoed off the hard sur­faces.

She clung to the grab bar as the mus­cles in her body rip­pled with ever-less­en­ing echoes of her or­gasm un­til fi­nally they went lax. Gabriel slipped out of her and pulled her up­right, spin­ning her in his arms while wa­ter cas­caded over both of them. His hand slicked over her wet hair and splayed to hold her cheek against his chest while he mur­mured en­dear­ments in Span­ish. Some she un­der­stood, some she didn’t, but she could feel the rise and fall of his breath­ing as it slowed to a nor­mal pace.

Her knees were still wob­bly from the power of her or­gasm, so she was grate­ful for the band of his arm around her waist, steady­ing her. She wound her arms around him and sank into the pre­cious mo­ment of safety and in­ti­macy.

They washed each other, their bod­ies slip­ping and slid­ing to­gether in the tight space, evok­ing moans of plea­sure with ev­ery touch. Grab­bing huge fluffy tow­els, they stum­bled to the bed and fell onto it to make love again, this time in slow, lan­guorous ap­pre­ci­a­tion be­fore they dropped into an ex­hausted sleep.

Quinn awoke to the tan­ta­liz­ing smell of gar­lic and but­ter. Gabriel sat on the edge of the bed, dressed in jeans and a dark red T-shirt, a first aid kit in his hands.

“What is that amaz­ing smell?” she asked as her stom­ach growled like a griz­zly bear’s.

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