Page 68 of Vicious Temptation

Bella licks her lips, hesitating for the briefest moment—but then her eyes meet mine, and to my astonishment, she nods.

“Yes,” she whispers, and my entire body tightens. I know I’m letting this go too far. I know that what I’m about to do is pushing the boundaries far past the point of breaking.

But I can’t bring myself to stop.

21

BELLA

WHAT IS HE GOING TO DO?

Everything inside of me is a tangle of confused emotions—nervousness, arousal, uncertainty. My heart is racing in my chest, my skin hot, an ache that rivals what Gabriel made me feel that first morning that we worked out together growing steadily in the pit of my stomach. I wanted him to kiss me, wanted him to lean in so that I could find out what it felt like to be kissed at last—and then I flinched. My body’s reactions took over despite what I wanted, and frustration curls up to add to the mix, frustration that even when I want to try, I don’t seem to be able to.

I don’t know what I was thinking, inviting him to join me out here. I don’t know what I thought could come of this, or of my intentional teasing when I said he wasn’t attracted to me. I don’t know what Gabriel is thinking now, when he says he wants to try something.

All I know is that I trust him not to hurt me. And so I whisper yes, and watch as he climbs out of the pool, gesturing for me to follow him.

Looking at him makes my mouth go dry with nervous desire. He’s so fucking gorgeous, even more so like this, with water clinging to his tanned skin, dripping into the ridges of his abs, his dark hair slicked back. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen a man with so little clothing on, and I don’t know where to look first—at his broad, muscled chest, his corded shoulders and thick biceps, or the grooves of muscle ridging his abdomen and leading down to the deep v that cuts down on either side of his navel, leading to the edge of his black boardshorts. His chest is lightly furred with dark hair, thinning to a strip that runs in a straight line between those grooves, and I have the sudden, insane desire to lick the water away from that firm, smooth skin, all the way down to where I can see the thick ridge in his clinging shorts. He’s aroused, and there’s no way for him to hide it.

I swallow hard, and push myself out of the pool, just in time to catch the way he’s looking at me, too.

For the first time, he doesn’t try to hide his desire. His gaze sweeps over me, from my face down to my toes, pausing on my breasts, my flat stomach, my thighs, my calves. He does exactly what I’ve been avoiding for months, taking in my appearance with one breathless rake of his eyes, and I can see the lust in them. I can see how much he wants me, his jaw tightening, a muscle there twitching. I glance down, and see the ridge in his shorts thicken even further, to an alarming size.

But for the first time, I don’t feel terrified. Afraid, yes—but I’m no longer sure that the fear is entirely panic. I think it might be fear of a different kind—a fear of something unknown, but not entirely unwanted.

“I don’t know—” I swallow hard, curling my fingers into my palms, trying for courage. “I’ve never even been kissed, Gabriel. I don’t know how far I can go before I—before I panic.”

“I’m not even going to touch you,” he promises. His eyes flick back up to mine, holding my gaze. “Whatever you’re thinking right now, Bella, I don’t think what I have in mind is what you’re imagining. And if at any point you want to stop, all you have to do is say it, and I’ll stop immediately. There are no games here, no complicated safewords. No, stop, no more—any of that, anything remotely like that, and I’ll stop instantly. I promise.”

I nod slowly, confused, relieved, and slightly disappointed all at once. Not because he’s willing to stop at a moment’s notice—that’s the only reason I haven’t run, because I trust him to do that—but because he isn’t going to kiss me. Or try to do more than that, apparently.

“What are you going to do?” I squeak, and Gabriel smiles. A slow, promising smile that ignites a heat in the core of my stomach, sending it flickering through me as he motions to one of the largest lounge chairs, one meant to fit up to two people.

“Lay down there, Bella,” he says softly, his voice taking on a rough edge despite his attempts to be gentle, and that heat spreads.

I trust him. It’s the only explanation for why my feet move to obey, carrying me to the lounge chair. I sink down onto it, lying back. It’s not all the way flat, so I’m still slightly propped up, but I still feel vulnerable. Gabriel can see so much of me. So much exposed skin, only slightly covered by the skimpy black bikini. And every time he looks at me, I know he’s imagining what it would feel like to run his fingers over every inch. Any possibility that I might have been wrong about him wanting me has vanished.

But he hasn’t touched me. And it’s the reason that I lie back, watching him walk towards me, his gaze fixed on mine.

Carefully, he puts one knee and then the other on the chair, straddling my legs, his own spread wide enough that he doesn’t brush up against me. He leans forward, his hands planted on either side of the upper part of the lounge, and he looks down at me.

“I won’t touch you unless you say I can,” he repeats. “I promise.” He hovers over me, pausing, letting me take him in. How close he is—how utterly gorgeous. His warm, male scent cuts through the bite of the chlorine clinging to him, and I feel an aching throb between my thighs. His hair is curling around the edges, just beneath his ears, and I have to resist the urge to reach out and touch him.

“I’m going to tell you where to touch yourself,” he continues, his voice deepening, that rasp an almost tangible thing, as if I can feel it brushing over my skin. “You’re going to follow my instructions, Bella. Can you do that?”

I can hear the unspoken question in his voice, underneath the one he’s asking out loud.

Do you want to do that?

The answer is yes. I can feel my pulse throbbing in my throat, my breath catching, and I’m afraid—but I want this. This man is doing everything he can to give me what we both want without stepping over my boundaries, and in that moment, I think I fall a little in love with him.

That’s an impossibility. Whatever else he wants, he’s made that very clear. But that doesn’t mean that I can’t have this.

That we can’t have it.

I swallow hard. “Yes,” I whisper. “Tell me what to do.”

That muscle twitches in his cheek again, as he braces himself over me. “Touch your finger to your lower lip,” he murmurs. “Move it across your mouth. Gently.”

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