Page 67 of Untamed Protector

My words hang in the air like a silent invitation. Gabriel’s hand drifts away from my neck, and he leans in, his breath warm against my skin. He starts with soft kisses along my neck as his hand cups my face, his thumb tracing the familiar path over my scar. The touch sends a chill down my spine. Seeing my body react, he deepens the kiss, his lips moving playfully against mine. As I melt into him, my yearning pushing all other thoughts aside, I feel him hesitate. He winces slightly, his hand tightening on my stomach. Confused, I pull back. “Are you okay?” I whisper, concern replacing the heat in my gaze. “Does your hand hurt?”

“Not enough to keep me off of you.”

“Let me,” I whisper, reaching out to the nightstand to grab a condom and place it on the bed beside him. My pajama pants slide down my legs as I climb on top of him, feeling the heat radiating from his body. His boxers are about to burst open. My hand trails down his body, skimming the taut muscles of his stomach before finding its target. I stroke his hard cock with one hand and touch myself with the other.

“You’re doing great,” Gabriel says with a smile, placing his hand on mine as I touch my pussy. His thumb massage is so intense that it makes me feel like I’ll explode. If I let him keep going, I’ll probably come fast. A part of me wants to surrender, to let the pleasure take over, but another, a more selfish part, wants to hold on, to savor this feeling and reach that peak together.

“Can you help with the condom?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I mumble under my breath, my heart racing, still in a frenzy from his mind-blowing touch on my clit.

I shift up slightly and lean back on my knees so I can free his amazing cock and ass from the boxers. I groan in disappointment as he takes his hand away from my pussy.

“Patience,” he whispers, “I’ll get right back to it, and it’ll feel so much better.”

Gabriel grabs the condom and rips the wrapper open with his teeth. His throbbing cock is hot and eager, resting against my pussy and my abdomen. I can feel his leg muscles bunching underneath me. This position where he’s not in control must be new to him. Every time he uses his injured hand, a wince shoots across his face. It’s swollen and bruised, a clear sign of pain he must be trying to ignore.

He tries to put on the condom, but I take over, my fingers brushing against his. A jolt of electricity shoots through me as I grip his hardness. Lowering myself onto him, I feel the heat radiating through his skin, every inch a delicious confirmation of our desire.

Gabriel’s good hand pulls me close. He kisses me hard, biting my lip playfully as I feel the head of his cock sliding inside the wet heat of my pussy. He thrusts into me quickly, sending shivers down my spine. As I feel him inside me, I let out a scream and break free from his hold. I put my hands on his tight legs and thrust my whole body in sync with him, closing my eyes and letting my senses take over. My breath turns to gasp, and a hot wave sweeps over my body. When he slides a hand around to my clit, it’s like a bomb detonating inside of me. His thumb presses mercilessly, every stroke a mix of pleasure and pain. My body tightens around him, and I let out a loud moan. With his injured hand, he grabs my silk top and yanks me toward him, forcing me to look at him as he stares down at me, his head tilted back, his eyes intense.

“Take it off now,” he mutters, his voice rough as he tugs at the silk of my shirt. I slip it off, leaning closer, offering my breasts to him. He slows down but keeps his finger on my clit, exploring my nipples with his injured hand. Then he suddenly pushes himself up on his elbows, leaning back on his heels, and pushes me onto his cock with his hand. “Open your legs and wrap them around me,” he asks as he continues to move inside me, his hand pressing against my back, keeping me flush against him.

“Fuuck,” I hear him shout hoarsely. “I fucking need you.”

I give it my all and press as close as I can, taking him deep inside. He withdraws and thrusts back with a bit more intensity. Each time, my hunger gets stronger, leaving me craving more. The only release from his hold comes with a powerful orgasm that shakes my entire body.

“Right there with you, baby,” I hear him groaning.

I surrender to waves of pleasure, my eyes rolling in ecstasy as he watches the intense orgasm overtaking me. Just as I start to settle down, he thrusts forcefully with a roar, releasing himself inside me.

Moments later, I lie beside him on the bed, listening to his breath gradually soften and quiet. I run my fingers over his injured hand, tracing the scars and feeling the rough texture.

“Does it still hurt?”

“Hell no, we’re all jacked up on endorphins,” he whispers with a smile.

We lie in comfortable silence for a while. Gabriel barely moves, but his breathing tells me he’s still here, beside me. Curiosity pulls me up, and I gaze at his relaxed, beautiful form. One hand rests casually above his head, the other, his injured one, nestled in my palms. Moonlight streams through the open door, with tiny beads of sweat shimmering like pearls on his collarbones. Every inch of his body becomes more familiar to me every day—the scar on his leg, the tiny mole on his thigh. I stare at his black hair, messy from the pillow. I love running my fingers through it during our moments of passion, the softness a stark contrast to his warm, tanned skin.

I can’t get enough of watching him. He opens his eyes and catches my curious, searching gaze. “What are you looking at so intently?” More like, What am I staring at?

“You never told me what happened to your leg,” I whisper. His eyes flutter shut, and he flinches as he tries to pull his hand free. Or he attempts to, because I grip it tightly despite it being his injured one. He seems like he wants to escape, but I’m determined to learn more about him.

“This is not a night for war stories,” he replies, dropping his hand to mine.

“Was it painful? What happened? Please, Gabriel,” I plead. “I want to know you. The real you. I want us to be closer.”

“But you already know me. Intimately,” he says, drawing an invisible line from my neck to the triangle between my legs as he pretends not to catch my meaning.

“Is that why you left the Navy?” I insist, trying to ignore the thrill in my stomach from his touch. “You haven’t told me much about your past.”

He lets out a sharp exhale and pushes himself up on his elbows, his broad chest hovering over mine. He takes my chin between two fingers as his eyes meet mine. I’m finally going to learn something about Gabriel.

“The past,” he begins, his voice rough, “is like an old wound—healed on the surface but still painful. To poke at it is to make it bleed again. Let’s leave the past in the past, with all its shadows and regrets.” He trails off, his gaze lingering on my face. “I prefer the present. Having you here with me makes me feel more alive than I’ve ever felt.”

20

Lexi

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