Page 36 of Blood Lust

I pulled it free and bit her lip, tugging it and suckling it before our teeth clashed as I practically devoured her. Each little moan drove me forward. Her ferocity fueled mine. The heel of my hand was grinding in demanding circles when I felt her tighten and the dam burst.

She cried out into my mouth as she violently contracted around my fingers. Needing her to get every last bit of pleasure she could, I squeezed her clit between my now soaked palm and fingers.

The aftershocks finally abated, and I slipped my fingers free but fisted the hair at the back of her head to force her to watch me lick her delicious cream from my coated digits. The pure, unadulterated lust in her gaze was my drug. Her pleasure—that was my high.

When she hooked her soft thighs around my body and pulled me closer, the end of my cock instinctively found her wet slit and, needing to feel her, I pushed in just an inch. Her back arched, bringing her tits to my chest and pulling me further into her slick, hot pussy.

With a hiss, I stilled. My muscles trembled as I fought with my control until I simply couldn’t any longer. My cock drove hard into her waiting heat as if its GPS only had one destination, and she was it.

Needing her body against mine, I wrapped my arms around her and jerked her to the edge of the desk as I slammed my cockin to the hilt. With her soft cum-slicked walls surrounding me, I was lost—driven by my basest desires.

The rattle of the shit on my desk barely registered as I thrust into her with animalistic urgency. Each time, her clit slammed into my pelvis, and her whimpers sent me into a frenzy until there were no civilized thoughts in my head—only a burning, driving, madness.

When she breathlessly and disbelievingly whispered, “I’m going to come again!” I was right there with her.

“Goddamn… right… you… are,” I ground out, my words squeezed out between pants and the crazed motions of my body. “Come all over my cock. Fuck, baby, come with me.”

The swirling, tightening sensations shot down my spine until I roared, and with her cunt pulsing around me, I exploded. Every piece of my being shattered as the waves of bliss carried us away and I filled her with my soul. Nothing existed except the void of sheer ecstasy that we floated in.

As the aftershocks started to fade, I kissed her sweat-slicked shoulder. I sucked on the salty skin hard enough, I knew I’d leave a mark. It was my silent branding of her.

“That was… fucking incredible,” she gasped against my neck, still digging her fingertips into my spine. Her legs remained wrapped tight around my hips, but they slipped from the sheen of moisture on our skin.

“I second that,” I murmured against her delicious flesh. Languidly, we savored and processed what had just happened.

“Gabriel?”

“Mmm?” I continued licking and sucking softly up her neck until I nipped her jawline.

“Who is Charlie to you?” It was a whispered question, but the emotions in that simple inquiry told me what she suspected. It was like a bucket of cold water tossed over my previously burning desire.

I’d known Lucia would be here today to clean and that she would likely bring Charlie, but I hadn’t thought Lia would think anything of them. Maybe I’d hoped she would simply assume he was my housekeeper’s son.

Trying to get control of my uneven breaths, I sighed, the pain as debilitating as it had been on the day it was fresh. Reluctantly, I leaned back to meet her gaze.

“I’m responsible for him.”

Silent now, she wouldn’t look at me, and I knew she misunderstood. Not that I owed her an explanation, but for some inexplicable reason, I needed her to understand.

“I’m not married or in a relationship, if that’s what you’re wondering. He’s my little brother Francesco’s.”

Her head lifted slightly, and her eyes darted to mine. The relief that flashed in them told me I’d been correct in her assumption.

“Is he not around for him?” she asked with a tilt of her head. And though I knew it was simply curiosity, I flinched at her question.

The pain was still raw, even years later. I stepped back and our bodies parted. Though I immediately missed the feel of her wrapped around me, I wasn’t thinking straight. Driven by the lingering devastation of his loss, I emotionlessly replied, “He’s dead.”

“I’m so sorry!” she whispered as her hand covered her mouth. “Gabriel?” she asked, obviously feeling me pulling away emotionally. “What happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it. It’s time for you to go to your room.”

Shutting down was the only way I knew to keep from breaking down—a fatal flaw for a man in my position.

“Gabriel, don’t—” she began, but I lashed out.

“Go!” I shouted and glared with a snarled curl to my lip.

Hurt colored her face and she pressed her lips flat and scrambled to grab her clothes from where they’d fallen. Hugging them protectively over her chest, she raced from the room.

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