Page 77 of Match Point

His cock hung between his legs, soft but growing harder, yet I managed to maintain eye contact. “I don’t intend to. I don’t want to go anywhere.”

I let the towel drop to the floor.

“I wanted you back in Paris,” I breathed. “I wanted you badly.”

“Your desire is a candle compared to the flame that was my burningneedfor you,” he replied.

A silence stretched in the empty locker room. I held my breath with anticipation. Even though I was nude, I didn’t feel self-conscious under his sharp gaze. His eyes bore into mine, and his words poured directly into my soul.

“I have thought of nothing else since that night in Paris. You have invaded my mind, Miranda Jacobs.”

And then he gathered my head in his hands and kissed me.

Explosions went off at the feel of his lips against mine, a meal I’d been craving all this time and was finally getting to taste. We were too desperate for each other for words as we kissed, Gabriel pulling me into the stall until the water ran over my skin again. He dropped to his knees, tongue immediately finding my lower lips. I groaned and widened my stance for him so he could taste more of me. He seemed so hungry as he devoured me with his mouth, his long tongue rolling like a wave against my pussy. I had to grip the shower head for stability as he sucked my clit into his mouth and gently nuzzled it, the intensity almost too much for me to bear. My back arched as he continued eating me out, expertly sliding two fingers inside of me and twisting them in a corkscrew motion. If not for my grip on the shower head, I might have collapsed to the ground as my body shook and shivered with a quick, unexpected release.

But I wanted so much more than that.

I pulled him up by his dark curls and kissed him, tasting myself on his lips, before bending over. Gabriel needed no other invitation; he guided his cock in between my lips from behind. I was drenched, allowing him to thrust forward and fill me with every inch that he had.

“Mon dieu,” he moaned while gripping my waist with both hands. “Miranda, you have the most wonderful ass. C’est merveilleux.”

I’d never heard him speak French in this context before. Right then, it turned me on more than anything else in the world. All the years of thinking about him, fantasizing about our kiss and wondering what might have been, had led to this point. Fourteen years of foreplay culminating in this shower.

Gabriel fucked me hard from behind in the shower stall of the locker room while the steaming hot water ran over our bodies. He bent over me, wrapping his arms around my chest and squeezing my breasts together while kissing the back of my neck and mumbling in incomprehensible French. It was music to my ears, and I moaned louder with him, a duet in two languages.

And when his fingers curled down around my hip, pressing roughly into my clit, my world exploded once again. This orgasm was so much stronger than the first one, an eruption of pleasure that made my knees tremble and my eyes clench shut. I might have screamed in ecstasy, but I couldn’t tell because the noise of the world was rushing in my ears, drowning everything else out.

As I came down, his fingers dug into the flesh of my ass, and his thrusts grew more frenzied, his breathing intensifying. He moaned something in French, a warning and a promise.

I pulled away from him and dropped to my knees. I wanted to see his face as he came. “Come on my chest,” I begged, pressing them together for him. “Come for me, Gabriel.”

He used his free hand to cup my cheek, thumb stroking my skin and his angular French face twisting with ecstasy as he stroked himself to completion. The sight of Gabriel, a lean man with rippling cords of muscle all over his body, clutching his cock in his fist was a beautiful sight. I drank in his echoed cries of pleasure as his warm, sticky seed splashed on my cleavage, rope after rope of it, eventually carried away by the water running down my chest.

I giggled when he was done, and he laughed with me. We kissed, softer this time, enjoying the moment rather than the previous rush to be together as quickly as possible.

We spent a few minutes showering together. Gabriel rubbed soap on my body—over my breasts, down my belly, in between my legs and ass. While he did that I grabbed the shampoo bottle and washed his hair. He had such thick, vibrant curls. I didn’t want to take my hands out of it.

“I hope this doesn’t delay dinner,” I said as we got out and dried off.

Gabriel’s laugh was even richer than before. “Dinner is the last thing on my mind, ma caille.”

38

Gabriel

Fourteen years.

Fourteen long, intolerable years.

This woman, this angel Miranda Jacobs, had occupied my mind for fourteen years since our kiss. I had thought about her. Dreamed about her.Fantasizedabout her. Other women had come and left in my life, yet Miranda remained a constant inside of me that was as powerful as my drive to win on the court.

And yet those fantasies were incomparable to the real thing. Feeling her lips churn against mine, her soft cunt tightening around my cock as she screamed with pleasure. Every nerve in my body, from the tips of my toes to my fingers digging into her skin, came alive as we were joined in perfect ecstasy. Our love burned fast and quick, like a sprint to the net to return a drop shot.

It was not how I expected this night to go. Never in my most ambitious of dreams.

Once clothed, we returned to the court hand-in-hand, like new lovers. The man I had hired, Anton, was waiting with a large paper bag full of food.

“Ah, dinner is here,” I said.

---