Page 69 of Vicious Temptation

I reach up, careful not to brush against him, and press the tip of my finger to my lower lip. I can’t imagine that it will feel like anything at all—but then I meet his darkened eyes as I follow his instructions. My mouth warms under my touch, prickles of sensation dancing across my skin.

“That’s me kissing you,” he breathes. “My finger tracing your mouth, just before my lips are on yours. Press a little harder. God, can’t you feel that? It feels so good, kissing you.”

His voice deepens, thickening, and I can tell that this is turning him on, too. That, as much as anything, sends that flare of heat dancing through me again, making my thighs press together as I trace the shape of my mouth with my finger.

“Now that same finger—along the edge of your jaw. Lower, down your throat, a little at a time. You taste so sweet. Do you like that? My mouth on your skin, tasting you? Kissing all the way down to your collarbones?”

I nod, suddenly breathless. It’s just my fingertip—but somehow, listening to the deep rasp of his voice, I can imagine that it’s his lips. Feather-light, trailing kisses down my neck, promising more.

“Right there. Right in the hollow of your throat. My tongue flicking out, tasting you right there. And down, between your breasts—” He sucks in a breath, his eyes dropping to watch my fingers trail down into the valley of my cleavage. “Can you take your top off?”

It’s not a demand, it’s a question. I want to say yes. I want to please him, this man who is going further than I ever imagined anyone would in his quest to try to make me feel safe. But the idea of being that exposed to him, to anyone, makes a shiver run down my spine and dampens my arousal.

“If I say no, do we have to stop?” I whisper, and Gabriel shakes his head quickly.

“No. We’ll keep going, Bella. And you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

I nod, feeling that ache build between my thighs. My skin feels tight, hot, the need for relief increasing, and I wonder if I’ll somehow get to come by the end of this. If that’s where this leads, at some point.

God, I want to come.

I can’t imagine how aroused Gabriel must be right now, how hard it must be for him to not touch himself, either. But he doesn’t seem aware of his own body at all, only mine, as he looks down to where my fingers are still resting between my breasts.

“Trace your fingers over your nipples,” he murmurs, his voice rough. “Those are my hands on you, Bella. My mouth. Playing with your pretty nipples until they’re hard and stiff for me. Until you feel every touch, every lick down between those perfect thighs.”

My fingers circle my nipples, feeling them stiffen under my touch through the thin material of my bathing suit, and that ache builds, every touch making my clit throb, just like Gabriel is promising. My lips part on a quick, gasping breath, and I hear myself moan. A low, soft, ragged sound, my hips arching up as I play with my nipples and wait breathlessly for his next instruction.

He tenses at the sound, his arms flexing on either side of me, and I catch the side of his abs tightening, the twitch of his cock in his shorts. I’ve never even imagined anything as arousing as watching what I’m doing to him right now, seeing his desire build as he talks me through touching myself, and I can’t imagine that there could be anything more erotic. Even sex couldn’t be hotter than this.

I never, ever imagined anything like this.

“Keep one hand on your breast, Bella,” Gabriel says hoarsely. “The other one—your right—drag it down your stomach. Slowly—” His hands flex against the lounge chair, his body tense as I let out another soft moan. “Slowly, right where I’d kiss you, all the way down, down to just above that little bit of fabric there. Drag them back and forth, just like I’d drag my tongue over your skin. Teasing you. Not touching yet. Just teasing.”

I squeeze my thighs together, shifting on the lounge chair, breathless. I’ve never needed to touch myself so badly, never ached for it so much. My entire body feels like it’s pulsing, my arousal almost unbearable, and if it feels anything like this for him?—

“Play with your nipple, Bella,” he murmurs hoarsely. “Grip your breast, squeeze it—just like that. Yes. Good girl. You’re so worked up for me now, aren’t you? You need my fingers on your clit, don’t you? You need it.”

I nod speechlessly, trusting that he still isn’t going to touch me yet. That this is all a part of the game. And it is.

“Slide your fingers under your bikini, Bella,” Gabriel rasps. “All the way down to your clit. Spread yourself open. Are you wet?”

My finger dips between my folds, and god. I’m drenched. There’s a lake of arousal between my thighs, hot and slick, and I moan as my finger barely grazes my clit, electric pleasure dancing over my skin.

“Yes,” I manage. “I’m so wet.”

The groan that tears free of Gabriel’s mouth sounds almost painful. His body tenses, rocking above me for a brief moment, and I hear him suck in a breath, as if he’s struggling to get himself under control. “Good girl,” he breathes. “I wanted you nice and wet for my fingers. For my tongue. Stroke your clit for me, Bella. Just the way you’d want me to if I were licking your sweet pussy. If it were my hand down there. Rub your clit exactly the way you like it. Slowly, for now.”

I nod, my finger stroking over my clit again, and I moan. It feels so good, swollen and sensitive under my fingertip, all the build-up to this point making me more aroused, more desperate for pleasure than I’ve ever been in my life. “It feels so good,” I gasp, my voice almost a whimper, and Gabriel groans again, the sound gritted between his teeth.

“Yes, it does,” he murmurs. “You’re so worked up for me, Bella. So wet and ready. You can come whenever you like, sweetheart. As slow or as quick as you want. I’ll make you come just as soon as you want it. I know you need it, baby. You need to come for me, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I whimper, rubbing my clit with two fingers now, in quick, hard circles. A part of me wants to go slow, to draw it out, but I can’t remember ever having needed release this badly. It feels exquisitely good, like when I touched myself in the shower after working out with Gabriel that first morning, except better. Everything is amplified because of him—leaning over me, murmuring filthy things to me, his body hot and hard and shadowing mine. I feel protected instead of threatened, aroused instead of panicked, and I can feel the heat of his body and the warmth of his breath puffing onto my skin, without him ever actually touching me. It’s driving me wild, and I arch into my hand, gasping and whimpering as I get closer to the edge.

“Oh god, oh god, Gabriel?—”

“That’s it, baby. You want to come for me. It’s going to feel so good when you do.”

Something catches me, right at the edge, a frustrating halt that doesn’t lessen the pleasure but won’t let it go any further. I almost plead for Gabriel to take over and finish me off, but I bite my lip, afraid that if I do, I’ll panic at his touch and lose this completely.

---