21. Bella

21

BELLA

WHAT IS HE GOING TO DO?

E verything inside of me is a tangle of confused emotions—nervousness, arousal, uncertainty. My heart is racing in my chest, my skin hot, an ache that rivals what Gabriel made me feel that first morning that we worked out together growing steadily in the pit of my stomach. I wanted him to kiss me, wanted him to lean in so that I could find out what it felt like to be kissed at last—and then I flinched. My body’s reactions took over despite what I wanted, and frustration curls up to add to the mix, frustration that even when I want to try, I don’t seem to be able to.

I don’t know what I was thinking, inviting him to join me out here. I don’t know what I thought could come of this, or of my intentional teasing when I said he wasn’t attracted to me. I don’t know what Gabriel is thinking now, when he says he wants to try something.

All I know is that I trust him not to hurt me. And so I whisper yes , and watch as he climbs out of the pool, gesturing for me to follow him.

Looking at him makes my mouth go dry with nervous desire. He’s so fucking gorgeous, even more so like this, with water clinging to his tanned skin, dripping into the ridges of his abs, his dark hair slicked back. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen a man with so little clothing on, and I don’t know where to look first—at his broad, muscled chest, his corded shoulders and thick biceps, or the grooves of muscle ridging his abdomen and leading down to the deep v that cuts down on either side of his navel, leading to the edge of his black boardshorts. His chest is lightly furred with dark hair, thinning to a strip that runs in a straight line between those grooves, and I have the sudden, insane desire to lick the water away from that firm, smooth skin, all the way down to where I can see the thick ridge in his clinging shorts. He’s aroused, and there’s no way for him to hide it.

I swallow hard, and push myself out of the pool, just in time to catch the way he’s looking at me, too.

For the first time, he doesn’t try to hide his desire. His gaze sweeps over me, from my face down to my toes, pausing on my breasts, my flat stomach, my thighs, my calves. He does exactly what I’ve been avoiding for months, taking in my appearance with one breathless rake of his eyes, and I can see the lust in them. I can see how much he wants me, his jaw tightening, a muscle there twitching. I glance down, and see the ridge in his shorts thicken even further, to an alarming size.

But for the first time, I don’t feel terrified. Afraid, yes—but I’m no longer sure that the fear is entirely panic. I think it might be fear of a different kind—a fear of something unknown, but not entirely unwanted.

“I don’t know—” I swallow hard, curling my fingers into my palms, trying for courage. “I’ve never even been kissed, Gabriel. I don’t know how far I can go before I—before I panic.”

“I’m not even going to touch you,” he promises. His eyes flick back up to mine, holding my gaze. “Whatever you’re thinking right now, Bella, I don’t think what I have in mind is what you’re imagining. And if at any point you want to stop, all you have to do is say it, and I’ll stop immediately. There are no games here, no complicated safewords. No, stop, no more— any of that, anything remotely like that, and I’ll stop instantly. I promise.”

I nod slowly, confused, relieved, and slightly disappointed all at once. Not because he’s willing to stop at a moment’s notice—that’s the only reason I haven’t run, because I trust him to do that—but because he isn’t going to kiss me. Or try to do more than that, apparently.

“What are you going to do?” I squeak, and Gabriel smiles. A slow, promising smile that ignites a heat in the core of my stomach, sending it flickering through me as he motions to one of the largest lounge chairs, one meant to fit up to two people.

“Lay down there, Bella,” he says softly, his voice taking on a rough edge despite his attempts to be gentle, and that heat spreads.

I trust him. It’s the only explanation for why my feet move to obey, carrying me to the lounge chair. I sink down onto it, lying back. It’s not all the way flat, so I’m still slightly propped up, but I still feel vulnerable. Gabriel can see so much of me. So much exposed skin, only slightly covered by the skimpy black bikini. And every time he looks at me, I know he’s imagining what it would feel like to run his fingers over every inch. Any possibility that I might have been wrong about him wanting me has vanished.

But he hasn’t touched me. And it’s the reason that I lie back, watching him walk towards me, his gaze fixed on mine.

Carefully, he puts one knee and then the other on the chair, straddling my legs, his own spread wide enough that he doesn’t brush up against me. He leans forward, his hands planted on either side of the upper part of the lounge, and he looks down at me.

“I won’t touch you unless you say I can,” he repeats. “I promise.” He hovers over me, pausing, letting me take him in. How close he is—how utterly gorgeous. His warm, male scent cuts through the bite of the chlorine clinging to him, and I feel an aching throb between my thighs. His hair is curling around the edges, just beneath his ears, and I have to resist the urge to reach out and touch him .

“I’m going to tell you where to touch yourself,” he continues, his voice deepening, that rasp an almost tangible thing, as if I can feel it brushing over my skin. “You’re going to follow my instructions, Bella. Can you do that?”

I can hear the unspoken question in his voice, underneath the one he’s asking out loud.

Do you want to do that?

The answer is yes. I can feel my pulse throbbing in my throat, my breath catching, and I’m afraid—but I want this. This man is doing everything he can to give me what we both want without stepping over my boundaries, and in that moment, I think I fall a little in love with him.

That’s an impossibility. Whatever else he wants, he’s made that very clear. But that doesn’t mean that I can’t have this.

That we can’t have it.

I swallow hard. “Yes,” I whisper. “Tell me what to do.”

That muscle twitches in his cheek again, as he braces himself over me. “Touch your finger to your lower lip,” he murmurs. “Move it across your mouth. Gently.”

I reach up, careful not to brush against him, and press the tip of my finger to my lower lip. I can’t imagine that it will feel like anything at all—but then I meet his darkened eyes as I follow his instructions. My mouth warms under my touch, prickles of sensation dancing across my skin.

“That’s me kissing you,” he breathes. “My finger tracing your mouth, just before my lips are on yours. Press a little harder. God, can’t you feel that? It feels so good, kissing you.”

His voice deepens, thickening, and I can tell that this is turning him on, too. That, as much as anything, sends that flare of heat dancing through me again, making my thighs press together as I trace the shape of my mouth with my finger.

“Now that same finger—along the edge of your jaw. Lower, down your throat, a little at a time. You taste so sweet. Do you like that? My mouth on your skin, tasting you? Kissing all the way down to your collarbones?”

I nod, suddenly breathless. It’s just my fingertip—but somehow, listening to the deep rasp of his voice, I can imagine that it’s his lips. Feather-light, trailing kisses down my neck, promising more.

“Right there. Right in the hollow of your throat. My tongue flicking out, tasting you right there. And down, between your breasts—” He sucks in a breath, his eyes dropping to watch my fingers trail down into the valley of my cleavage. “Can you take your top off?”

It’s not a demand, it’s a question. I want to say yes. I want to please him, this man who is going further than I ever imagined anyone would in his quest to try to make me feel safe. But the idea of being that exposed to him, to anyone, makes a shiver run down my spine and dampens my arousal.

“If I say no, do we have to stop?” I whisper, and Gabriel shakes his head quickly.

“No. We’ll keep going, Bella. And you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

I nod, feeling that ache build between my thighs. My skin feels tight, hot, the need for relief increasing, and I wonder if I’ll somehow get to come by the end of this. If that’s where this leads, at some point.

God, I want to come.

I can’t imagine how aroused Gabriel must be right now, how hard it must be for him to not touch himself, either. But he doesn’t seem aware of his own body at all, only mine, as he looks down to where my fingers are still resting between my breasts.

“Trace your fingers over your nipples,” he murmurs, his voice rough. “Those are my hands on you, Bella. My mouth. Playing with your pretty nipples until they’re hard and stiff for me. Until you feel every touch, every lick down between those perfect thighs.”

My fingers circle my nipples, feeling them stiffen under my touch through the thin material of my bathing suit, and that ache builds, every touch making my clit throb, just like Gabriel is promising. My lips part on a quick, gasping breath, and I hear myself moan. A low, soft, ragged sound, my hips arching up as I play with my nipples and wait breathlessly for his next instruction.

He tenses at the sound, his arms flexing on either side of me, and I catch the side of his abs tightening, the twitch of his cock in his shorts. I’ve never even imagined anything as arousing as watching what I’m doing to him right now, seeing his desire build as he talks me through touching myself, and I can’t imagine that there could be anything more erotic. Even sex couldn’t be hotter than this.

I never, ever imagined anything like this.

“Keep one hand on your breast, Bella,” Gabriel says hoarsely. “The other one—your right—drag it down your stomach. Slowly—” His hands flex against the lounge chair, his body tense as I let out another soft moan. “Slowly, right where I’d kiss you, all the way down, down to just above that little bit of fabric there. Drag them back and forth, just like I’d drag my tongue over your skin. Teasing you. Not touching yet. Just teasing.”

I squeeze my thighs together, shifting on the lounge chair, breathless. I’ve never needed to touch myself so badly, never ached for it so much. My entire body feels like it’s pulsing, my arousal almost unbearable, and if it feels anything like this for him?—

“Play with your nipple, Bella,” he murmurs hoarsely. “Grip your breast, squeeze it—just like that. Yes . Good girl. You’re so worked up for me now, aren’t you? You need my fingers on your clit, don’t you? You need it.”

I nod speechlessly, trusting that he still isn’t going to touch me yet. That this is all a part of the game. And it is.

“Slide your fingers under your bikini, Bella,” Gabriel rasps. “All the way down to your clit. Spread yourself open. Are you wet?”

My finger dips between my folds, and god . I’m drenched. There’s a lake of arousal between my thighs, hot and slick, and I moan as my finger barely grazes my clit, electric pleasure dancing over my skin.

“Yes,” I manage. “I’m so wet.”

The groan that tears free of Gabriel’s mouth sounds almost painful. His body tenses, rocking above me for a brief moment, and I hear him suck in a breath, as if he’s struggling to get himself under control. “Good girl,” he breathes. “I wanted you nice and wet for my fingers. For my tongue. Stroke your clit for me, Bella. Just the way you’d want me to if I were licking your sweet pussy. If it were my hand down there. Rub your clit exactly the way you like it. Slowly, for now.”

I nod, my finger stroking over my clit again, and I moan. It feels so good, swollen and sensitive under my fingertip, all the build-up to this point making me more aroused, more desperate for pleasure than I’ve ever been in my life. “It feels so good,” I gasp, my voice almost a whimper, and Gabriel groans again, the sound gritted between his teeth.

“Yes, it does,” he murmurs. “You’re so worked up for me, Bella. So wet and ready. You can come whenever you like, sweetheart. As slow or as quick as you want. I’ll make you come just as soon as you want it. I know you need it, baby. You need to come for me, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I whimper, rubbing my clit with two fingers now, in quick, hard circles. A part of me wants to go slow, to draw it out, but I can’t remember ever having needed release this badly. It feels exquisitely good, like when I touched myself in the shower after working out with Gabriel that first morning, except better . Everything is amplified because of him—leaning over me, murmuring filthy things to me, his body hot and hard and shadowing mine. I feel protected instead of threatened, aroused instead of panicked, and I can feel the heat of his body and the warmth of his breath puffing onto my skin, without him ever actually touching me. It’s driving me wild, and I arch into my hand, gasping and whimpering as I get closer to the edge.

“Oh god, oh god, Gabriel?—”

“That’s it, baby. You want to come for me. It’s going to feel so good when you do.”

Something catches me, right at the edge, a frustrating halt that doesn’t lessen the pleasure but won’t let it go any further. I almost plead for Gabriel to take over and finish me off, but I bite my lip, afraid that if I do, I’ll panic at his touch and lose this completely.

And I want it so much.

“I—” I bite my lip, still stroking my clit, my thighs quivering with how close I am. With how badly I need to come. “I’m so close. Please?—”

“Oh, I know you are.” Gabriel’s rough, lust-filled voice fills my ears as I close my eyes, encouraging me, driving my arousal higher, making me want things I can’t even begin to imagine. “You want to come for me, baby. You need this, Bella. Let it go. Come for me. Come so hard, baby. It’s going to feel so good, fuck ? — ”

Something about that ragged curse, his indrawn breath as he says it, as if he’s imagining himself thrusting inside of me right now, pushing me to the edge, my orgasm on the verge of triggering his, pushes me over the edge—and into the most exquisite pleasure I’ve ever experienced in my entire life.

“Gabriel!” I cry out his name, my head falling back, my fingers lashing over my clit as my hips buck upwards and my free hand drops to the edge of the lounge chair, gripping it hard as I writhe and moan. The pleasure races over my skin, my muscles tightening, wave after wave of it wracking me with a release that I never knew was possible. And through it all, Gabriel hovers over me, never touching me, his heat searing into me anyway, even from inches away as I come hard underneath him.

“That’s it, baby,” he breathes. “God, you’re so fucking gorgeous. So fucking gorgeous when you come for me like that. God, you fucking taste so sweet, so perfect, fuck ? — ”

His voice is impossibly ragged, as if he’s on the edge too, and he hasn’t even touched himself. It prolongs my orgasm, draws it out, until I’m panting and limp underneath him, my fingers going still as I look up at him with a dazed expression on my face.

He looks wrecked . His hair is half-dried, curling around his face, his every muscle flexed rock-hard with the effort to stay where he is, and when I let my gaze travel down his chiseled body, I can see the outline of his erection standing out in stiff relief against the fabric of his shorts.

Gabriel sucks in a deep, shuddering breath, and starts to push himself up, and away from me.

“Wait!” I gasp it aloud, looking up at him, and he freezes. There’s a cautious, wary look in his darkened eyes, as if he’s not sure what comes next. “I want you to come, too.”

“Bella.” He swallows hard, and I can see the muscles in his arms tighten, his hands flexing on either side of me. “I don’t need to?—”

“Yes, you do,” I whisper breathlessly. “I can see how hard you are. How hard that made you.”

Gabriel groans, his head dropping forward. “God, keep talking to me like that, Bella, and I’ll come anyway.” He lets out a choked laugh, looking up at me again. “It’s you that I’m concerned about. I want to make sure you’re okay. That was?—”

“Incredible,” I breathe. “And frightening, and good, and confusing, and—” I suck in a breath. The aftershocks are still trembling through me, and I don’t know how I’ll feel about all of this in the morning, but I know what I want right now. “Touch yourself for me,” I breathe. “Right where you are. Let me watch while you come for me . And you can imagine that it’s me touching you, just like what we just did.”

Gabriel licks his lower lip, and I can see a fine tremor shudder through him. “Are you sure?” he rasps. “Bella?—”

“I’m sure.” I swallow hard. “Let me watch you come.”

Gabriel lets out a slow, shaky breath, keeping himself propped above me with one hand as he slowly reaches down with the other. He tugs the laces of his shorts loose, opening them up deftly with one hand, and my breath catches as I watch his hand slip into the waist and push them down slightly around his hips, freeing his rigid cock.

I gasp, and he goes very still.

He’s huge . Long and thick, so stiff that his tip nearly brushes his abdomen, the veins standing out against the straining flesh. The tip is swollen, slick with his own arousal, and Gabriel shudders again, his hand flexing against his hip. “I can stop?—”

I shake my head quickly. “Don’t stop,” I breathe. “I want to watch.”

Gabriel lets out a ragged laugh. “I don’t know how long it’s going to last,” he confesses, reaching down to press his fingertips around his straining shaft, dragging them down the length of it as if to test the strength of his arousal. “You look so goddamn beautiful when you come, Bella. I’ve never seen anything so fucking gorgeous. I want to watch you come over and over—” His hips jerk, his hand moving to grip his shaft, and his eyes close as I watch his entire body tense with pleasure. “Oh fucking god. I need to come so bad.”

I stare at him, wanting to do the same thing he did for me, to talk him through it, to murmur filthy things while he strokes his cock for me. But all I can do is look , my eyes greedily taking in every inch of him. I’ve never seen anything as erotic as Gabriel straining over me, his muscles hard and flexed, his hand wrapped tightly around his throbbing cock as he starts to stroke it for me, his jaw tight as he groans with pleasure.

“God, it feels so much better like this,” he breathes. “So fucking good with you watching me. With that look on your face. Like you want to eat me up.”

And with that, I find the tiniest bit of courage. “What would you want me to do to you?” I whisper, and Gabriel’s eyes flutter briefly closed again, another groan slipping free as he rubs his palm over his swollen tip.

“So many fucking things,” he breathes. “Your hand on my cock, just like this, so you can feel how hard I am for you. How hard you make me. Your mouth—god, your mouth drives me fucking wild—pressed right up against the tip, right here—” He presses his thumb against the tip of his cock, swirling it as he moans, and my hand slips down towards the edge of my bikini again, unbidden.

“Your tongue, sliding over me, all the way down—” His hand slides down again, to the base, gripping hard as his hips arch forward. “Your hot mouth wrapped around me. I’d fucking die if you sucked me, Bella. You’d feel so fucking good, with your lips wrapped around my cock.”

“Can I—” My breath catches. “I want to come again, with you.” The things he says are driving me wild, things I never imagined a man saying to me. Gabriel has a filthy mouth, and I love it. I love everything he says, the way he says it, the way he makes it suddenly easy to imagine doing all of those things, where they only terrified me before. “Can I come again?”

Gabriel moans, hips thrusting into his fist. “God, yes. Touch yourself while I stroke my cock, baby. Please . Please fucking come for me.”

The sound of that ragged please has me moaning before my fingers ever even touch my clit again. I grip the side of the lounge chair as I stroke my fingers over my slick, swollen, over-sensitive clit, unsure if I even can come twice in one night, only knowing that I want to do this while Gabriel strokes himself for me, while I watch the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life happening inches away.

“God, this feels so good.” Gabriel gasps through gritted teeth, his hand slowing as he watches me. “You don’t have long, baby. I can’t hold out. Watching you come—” His hand slides along his swollen cock again, every inch of his body tense and trembling with pleasure. “I nearly got off before I even touched myself. I?—”

Another ripple of pleasure washes over him, his hand moving faster as he bucks into his fist, and I can imagine all too easily how it might feel to have him thrusting inside of me like that. To have our bodies pressed together, hot and slick, that huge cock filling me up. To hear him groan because it’s my body making him feel like that, instead of his own hand.

And just like that, I’m trembling on the edge again, so close to an orgasm that I know I’m about to go flying over the edge.

Gabriel tenses, rearing back. “I’m going to—” he starts to move, but I shake my head frantically.

“No!” I gasp, arching into my hand. “I’m so close—come on me. Just—come right—” I brush my fingers over my stomach, and Gabriel’s eyes go wide in the instant before a ragged groan tears from his lips, and I see his entire body shudder and snap taut as his cock pulses in his fist.

“Oh, god!” I cry out as my orgasm hits, my back arching and my clit throbbing against my fingertips as I feel the first hot spurt of his cum arc over my skin. It splashes against my stomach as Gabriel groans, cursing as he fists his cock, more of his hot cum streaking over my belly, up to my breasts as my orgasm washes over me in pulsing waves, intensified by the feeling of Gabriel’s cum on me and the sight of him caught in the throes of his own climax. His jaw is tight, his eyes dark, his entire body taut with pleasure, and he’s looking at me like he’s never seen anything more beautiful in his entire life.

I shudder, moaning softly as my climax recedes. Gabriel is panting, his fingers squeezing the last of his cum from his still-hard cock, his eyes glazed with pleasure.

For a long moment, he stares at me, and I stare back. I can’t quite believe what just happened—that we both just came, together, without ever having touched each other.

How’s that for progress?