Page 22 of Redemption

“Show me?” He comes closer, his fresh warm breath blowing over my face.

“I don't know if I can,” I say breathlessly.

Gawain sinks to his knees before me. He’s giving me the power in all we do. Slowly, I reach for the hem of my long skirts and draw them up my legs. I’m resting against the table, which I'm so glad about because my legs feel like jelly.

“Please. I’ve never...” The words are hard to get out. I feel as though I’m breaking again but healing at the same time. “I’ve never had an orgasm from someone else.” I pull my skirts all the way up, so they bunch around my waist. Gawain and I are turning a corner. Whatever is happening between us is no longer just about him being my rescuer from M. It could also be he’s the savior of my mind.

With masterful fingers, Gawain strokes down the fabric of the white cotton panties I’m wearing. He takes the waistband and pulls them down my legs. My breathing is ragged, but I’m not scared. I feel empowered. I’m in control with a man for the first time in my life.

“Please,” I beg again, and he pulls my legs farther apart, so I’m exposed to him where he kneels.

“Beautiful. Innocent.” His dark chestnut eyes flick up to mine, and despite the fact I’m far from being a virgin, I know what he means. I’m pure to him because I’m choosing to do this. His tongue comes out, and he uses it to trail a line through my folds and up to my clit. I let out a long moan of pleasure. I’ve never known anything like this. I feel like I’m flying, and I haven’t even come yet. Placing his hands on my hips, Gawain lifts me up onto the table, so I don’t have to support myself on my wobbly legs. This opens my most intimate places to him even more.

“Better than cakes,” he murmurs into the flesh of my thighs, his beard tickling in between my legs and heightening all my senses. His tongue moves through my folds and is followed by a calloused finger. The digit then circles at my entrance but doesn’t delve inside, just yet, and is once again replaced by his tongue. Moving back to my core, his finger tests the barrier to my newly spoken of virginity, which is one of choice not submission. I don’t tense up, and I feel him push inside me. It’s only a finger, but it feels big. I’ve had a lot worse shoved inside me, but Gawain’s finger is large, and I falter a little, clenching down on it. Gawain increases the speed his tongue strokes my clit, and my body relaxes. Another finger joins the first one, but I’m already too lost in my impending orgasm to care. I need this to reclaim who I was before I was taken. The explosion of pleasure hits me, and I shudder and shake under Gawain’s exceptional skills. I don’t just orgasm once. He brings me to climax three times in quick succession before he’s done. He withdraws his fingers as I climb down from my high and licks them.

“Definitely better than cakes, which is a good thing as I think our afternoon tea got a little spoiled.”

He helps me from the table, and I see cakes and sandwiches strewn, and tea spilled all over the floor.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him, biting down on my lip.

“Don’t be. I enjoyed my feast.” He pulls me into his arms, and I feel his hardness through the now creased linen of my skirts. I look down, and in the tight breeches he’s wearing, little is left to the imagination. “Don’t worry. This was all about you,” he reassures me.

“I…” I start to thank him, but he places a finger over my lips, and I can smell my musky scent on it.

A bang comes at the front door before there’s a chance to say anything else.

“Fuck.” Gawain grunts.

“Open the door, slut.” A deep masculine voice comes from the other side, and a fist hammers again on the door.

My eyes go wide at the use of the derogatory term.

“It’s my nickname,” Gawain explains, walking toward the door and trying to re-arrange himself in the breeches to alleviate the tightness there. I check my appearance is put together, but I know my cheeks must still be flushed from my orgasm.

Gawain pulls the front door open with so much force it nearly comes off its hinges.

“What do you want, dickhead?” he asks the handsome man on the other side of the door. Does Gawain know anyone who isn’t drop dead gorgeous!

The man stops dead in his tracks and looks Gawain up and down.

“What the fuck?”

“Lance!” Gawain shouts, and the man shakes himself out of his shocked stupor.

“Arthur sent me. He wants me to check you haven’t had your dick fall off with lack of use. I’m thinking I might be too late, though. It looks like it’s happened.”

“I think he looks really handsome, Lance.” A stunningly beautiful girl appears next to the man. “Hello, Cousin. That’s a fetching outfit.” She welcomes Gawain with a warm embrace. “You’ll have to give me details. Lance and I could play dress up.”

“Not fucking likely, Giuliana.” Lance tugs his partner close to him and scowls down at her.

“Is this a social call, or is there a point to you being here?” Gawain asks through gritted teeth, and I can’t help but suppress a little chuckle in my throat. It threatens to turn into a full-blown laugh when Lance gets his phone out and takes a picture of Gawain in his Mr. Darcy outfit.

“My father wants to see you,” Giuliana explains. “He asked us to keep an eye on your…Megan. You know how he can be, but it’s important you go see him.”

“I’ll get changed.” Gawain’s face is full of thunder, but when he looks back to me, it softens with concern.

“Oh, please don’t,” Lance teases again. “The guys will get a kick out of you showing up at the mansion on a Harley dressed like that.”

Gawain sticks his middle finger up at Lance as he comes back to me and asks, “You ok?”

“I’m fine. Go. It could be information about M,” I reassure him.

He presses a kiss to my lips and disappears down the hall.

Lance starts laughing his head off, and his girlfriend and I both look at him suspiciously.

“I’ve just sent that picture via What’s App to all the guys. Slut’s never going to live it down!”

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