Page 69 of My Darling Rogue
For the first time in five years, Celia found herself wishing for complete darkness. Biting her bottom lip, she mustered her courage and padded over to the piece of furniture. With a deep breath, she bent over and then sucked in a gasp when the cool wood came into contact with her tightly budded nipples.
“How gorgeous you are when you obey me, Celia. You are in the perfect position for both punishment and pleasure. Press your cheek to the table’s surface. Stay just like that, and I swear there will be more rapture than pain.”
She knew when Gabriel came closer because the air in the room changed. It swirled with his lust and her fear of the unknown. A bead of sweat formed between her breasts and rolled down until it was absorbed by the oak.
Gabriel gathered her hair, pulling it so it draped over her shoulder in a silky cascade of ebony waves
The sudden slap to one buttock took her by surprise. Jolting forward from the contact, she choked on a cry.
“Stay where you are, Celia,” he warned. In quick succession, he delivered two more swats that had her biting her bottom lip even harder to contain a sob.
“That, sweetheart, was owed for the night we became engaged. The night I warned you there were consequences for playing your damnable games despite my warnings. Do you understand?”
“Y-yes,” she managed.
“And this is for this evening. It is not so much of a punishment as it is a way of helping you understand how things will be between us. Sometimes, there will be discomfort before there is satisfaction. For both of us.”
Before Celia could even fathom what he meant by that, the palm of his hand landed another six, no, eight more times on her bottom. But with the sharp, stinging sensation came an unexpected sense of relief. Maybe even a bit of pride because, although Gabriel struck her soundly and without mercy, Celia remained in the position he wanted.
Flat across the dressing room table, fingers digging into the oak wood.
She did not realize tears were rolling down her cheeks until Gabriel’s palm smoothed over both her buttocks, his touch easing away some of the pain. She relaxed into his touch as though it were a healing balm.
“There now, pet. It's over.” He leaned over her, his bare chest grazing her back.
When did he remove his shirt?
With a gentle finger, he swiped one of her tears up and sucked it into his mouth. “Now comes your reward. Spread your legs for me, Celia.”
Celia did not even question the why of it. She reacted simply out of instinct, her legs moving apart as though they were independent of her willpower.
Gabriel’s mouth touched the place between her shoulder blades. Softly. Reverently. He traced the line of her backbone, his lips hot and warm on her skin. Moving even further down, his hands palmed her buttocks in worship of her shape.
Fingers massaged her flesh, feathering away all of the aches until Celia could think of nothing but the building pleasure. When his mouth suddenly moved over the curve of one full cheek, his tongue swiping the satiny expanse in a lavish caress, Celia gasped in shock.
A tiny whimper escaped her throat when Gabriel gripped her hips. He kept her in place, the brutal tenderness of his fingers biting into her skin. “Stay, Celia.” His whisper skated across her flesh, chasing the goosebumps that popped up.
Then she sensed him crouching down lower and lower still, until his mouth was suddenly between her legs. Hot and invasive, his tongue traced the outer folds of her sex as he nuzzled deeper into her.
“Gabriel!” Celia cried out, her fingers digging into the edges of the table. Everything inside her, every emotion and the pulsating of her veins pooled where his wicked mouth was centered. “Oh, God. Please… please…more.”
“You will not beg God for your pleasure. You will beg me.”
A thousand needles of pleasure encroached all at once. Gabriel growled, his tongue sweeping through the moisture seeping from her body. He sucked at it with a greedy hunger, his teeth grazing her button of nerves until Celia nearly screamed from the intensity of it. Before she knew what he was about, Gabriel’s tongue sharpened into a point. He speared it at that little button over and over until Celia was shattering into a million pieces. Flung through the universe and all the stars as if she were a flaming arrow.
Gabriel feasted fully on her, never letting up as she rode the waves and trembled with the aftershocks. Only when she whimpered did he show mercy. The caress gentled into a slow, intense worship.
The climax left her shaken. Weak. Delirious. Never had she gone through such an experience before. She did not know how she remained upright. Her legs were as wobbly as a newborn filly.
One of his hands left her hip, and a second later there was the sound of fabric rustling as he stood to his full height. Celia knew what it meant, but she could not bring herself to move away. She could not even muster the strength to close her legs. Instead, she remained draped across the table in languid contentment.
“I cannot wait any longer to claim you, my sweet Celia. Thorns or no, I’m taking you now.” Gabriel’s arm inserted itself between the tabletop and her abdomen. He lifted her from the desk, and Celia instinctively braced herself with palms flat on the wood.
Their eyes met and clashed in the mirror’s reflection. Celia could not look away from the half-crazed desire she saw in Gabriel’s features. He looked wild. Savage. Feral.
And she looked the same.
There was no other sound in the room than their harsh breathing until Gabriel spoke.
