26. Bella

26

BELLA

T he following week feels like a dream, like something that I couldn’t have imagined happening only a little while before. Gabriel and I fall into a routine—we workout every morning together, and I realize that he’s shifted his schedule for me when, instead of breakfast waiting on us when we come back upstairs, clearly late, it’s just hitting the table forty-five minutes later than usual. I can feel the blush heating my face when that occurs to me, knowing the reason why.

Our workout routine—and Gabriel teaching me self-defense—has progressed since he’s been able to touch me. He’s started showing me basic martial arts moves—blocks, kicks, light punches—and it only makes it harder to focus while we’re actually working out. It inevitably ends with us up against the wall or on one of the mats, hands roving over all the places that are no longer off-limits as we get each other off in a feverish tangle. To my utter shock, I’ve discovered that Gabriel has no issues with going down on me right after a workout—something I found out this morning when he laid me back on a mat and tugged my leggings down around my hips, licking me to a quick and messy orgasm. I returned the favor shortly after with my hand, stroking him as he kneeled over me, fingering myself again as he came all over my breasts.

Nothing has ever been hotter to me than watching Gabriel come. The way he looks completely undone by me, mouth open and body tense, the sounds he makes—all of it turns me on beyond belief, making me want to do all of it over again as soon as we can.

And he’s been patient. More patient than I ever imagined a man would be. I haven’t gone down on him yet, unable to work past the block in my mind about that—and so far, I’m still a virgin in the most technical way. That, too, makes me feel a flare of panic whenever I think about it. But Gabriel hasn’t pushed me, even though I can’t imagine he’s fully satisfied with handjobs, or jerking off while he pleasures me.

I pretend that there’s no other factor than my fear. That not having gone as far as actual intercourse yet has nothing to do with the fact that once we do, this will be over. My brief, and intensely passionate relationship with Gabriel will come to an end.

That’s what I asked him for and what he agreed to. It can’t be anything else. He was clear about that, and I’ve tried very hard not to interpret anything he says or does as a deviation from that. No matter how sweet or gentle he is, no matter what he whispers in my ear, I tell myself that it’s all just focused on the now . None of that will matter, once that final line is crossed, and we’re finished.

But it’s hard to remember that, when I get out of the shower and remember that Gabriel invited me to go into the city with him, Cecelia, and Danny today. A family outing—except I’m not really supposed to be part of this family. I’m an employee, and Agnes isn’t coming along.

It feels like the lines that made me an employee and Gabriel, my boss, vanished a long time ago.

The plans were made over dinner last night—Cecelia is still dying to take Gabriel to the American Girl store, and Gabriel wants to take them to the Metropolitan Art museum, as an educational outing. Additionally, Danny insisted that his father needed to try the burger place we went to last time, and to round it out, Gabriel promised them dinner and a show on Broadway. I stare at my closet as I stand in the middle of my room with a towel wrapped around myself, with no idea what to wear.

I finally settle on a lightweight, dark blue silk shift dress, made a little more casual by small rolled sleeves pinned to the shoulders by brass buttons, and a slightly scooped neckline. I add a thin leather belt and comfortable sandals that are still stylish enough for the theater, and a pair of diamond leaf ear cuffs that crawl halfway up the side of each ear, adding a little bit of extra style to the outfit. They draw attention, and my heart pounds a little in my chest, knowing that this outfit can’t possibly keep me from being noticed. But Gabriel makes me feel safe, and little by little, I feel less and less like I need to hide. The dress falls to mid-calf, slit up to my knees, and only my arms are bare. I take a cropped lightweight brown leather jacket out of my closet, in case I feel like I need to cover up or the theater is cold, and take a deep breath.

I can do this.

Gabriel is waiting downstairs with Cecelia and Danny, wearing a pair of lightweight charcoal-colored chinos and a cream-colored linen button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hair is curling lightly around his ears, and I feel my fingers itch with the urge to reach out and touch it. The hardest part about today, I realize, will be not touching Gabriel at all. It’s almost ironic, considering how we started. But I know without him telling me that we can’t be anything other than friendly in front of Cecelia and Danny. Whatever is happening between us, the last thing either of us want is for them to be confused about my place in their father’s life.

His eyebrows rise sharply when he sees me, and I catch the flicker of heat in his gaze. He smiles as I reach the bottom of the stairs, and I can see the effort it takes for him to keep his eyes on my face, and not take me in the way he wants to. “You put your hair up,” he says, and I smile a little self-consciously, touching the back of my head where I put my hair up in a twist.

“It seemed a little more elegant. For the museum and a Broadway show.”

His eyes linger on my hair in a way that makes me think that he’s imagining taking it down, but he says nothing, leading us out to the waiting Mercedes.

Gabriel opens the passenger’s side door for me, along with the back door, and I glance at him uncertainly as Cecelia and Danny slide into the back. “Shouldn’t I be back there with them?” I murmur, and Gabriel shakes his head.

“I don’t want to feel like a chauffeur.” He grins at me, and I let out a quick breath, sliding into the passenger’s side.

It feels intimate. Like I’m his girlfriend, out on a date with him and his children. I push down the confused, muddled feelings in my chest, focusing on not accidentally doing anything that will give us away. At least once, I see Gabriel’s hand twitch on his leg, as if he’s holding himself back from touching mine.

“I’m teaching Bella how to drive this,” Gabriel says with a grin, glancing back at Cecelia and Danny. “She’s pretty good.”

“I’ve had one lesson.” I laugh. “And I’m really not.”

“You’ll have more.” He glances at me, still grinning. “And then you will be.”

“I can’t wait to learn to drive,” Cecelia sighs in the back, but I don’t hear Gabriel’s response. I can’t think about anything other than quelling the warm, soft feeling that spreads through my chest at that—at the way he said it, the certainty that I’ll be here.

What is that going to look like, when things end between him and I?

I can’t think about it. I can’t let myself think about the end. And I don’t want to. Not when it all feels so good, right now—not when, for the first time in my life, I feel like I can be completely myself, and hold nothing back.

The day is perfect. We go shopping first, and my heart melts a little more when I see how thoroughly Gabriel immerses himself in his children’s interests. He lets Cecelia lead him around the American Girl store for close to an hour without complaint, as she explains all of the dolls’ stories and which she likes the best and why. Danny wants to go to a comic book store afterward, and Gabriel gives him the same attention, listening intently as Danny talks about Batman and his favorite X-Men—and the ones he doesn’t like. There’s no impatience, no checking the time or looking at his phone, and I realize that this is just who Gabriel is . A good, patient man, who is there fully for the people he cares about.

And, regardless of how this ends, I realize—I’m one of those people. I have been, since the moment I careened into him in that hallway, and he made it his mission to rescue me from whatever arrangement my father was trying to set up.

We get lunch at the burger place afterward, with Gabriel declaring it an excellent choice. His gaze strays towards me over and over, throughout the afternoon, but he’s careful not to do anything that would make it seem like we’re anything other than friends. Until we’re at the art museum, and I’m staring up at a Van Gogh piece as Cecelia leads Danny to the other side of the room to explain to him, in great detail, what she learned about Starry Night in one of her classes earlier that year.

Gabriel’s hand touches my back, lightly, and I flinch—but not for the reason I used to. “They’ll see,” I whisper, without looking at him, and he chuckles.

He leans in, ever so briefly, and brushes his lips over my neck. The touch heats my entire body, making me shiver, and his hand flattens against my lower back for just a moment before he pulls away.

“Cecelia notices nothing when she’s lecturing,” he says with a laugh. “She’s going to make a great professor someday.”

I can’t help but smile. “You’re not wrong about that.”

“It’s so hard not to touch you,” Gabriel murmurs, dropping his voice low enough that no one can hear. “Now that I can, it’s all I want to do.”

It feels like a confession, and I turn to look at him, my pulse speeding up in my throat. His face is carefully blank, giving away nothing, and I remind myself that it is nothing. Just honesty, about how he’s feeling in the moment. It doesn’t mean anything about the future.

Cecelia, calling out for Gabriel to come look at something louder than she should in the middle of a museum, saves me from having to say anything in response. But I see the way Gabriel’s eyes linger on me, just a beat longer than they should.

We walk around the museum until nearly five, and then Gabriel takes us to a Michelin-starred Italian restaurant for dinner. It only occurs to me then to be nervous about my clothing, thinking about sitting in a restaurant full of people. I rub my arms as we get out of the car, a prickle of fear running up and down my spine. Before I can think of what to do about it, I feel fabric sliding over my shoulders, and I realize that Gabriel is helping me put my jacket on.

“I’m right here,” he says, softly enough for only me to hear, and that warm feeling spreads through me again as I slip my arms into the jacket sleeves.

He saw me, and knew. That was all it took. I feel a burn behind my eyelids, and push it away before I can start to tear up on the way into dinner.

We’re taken back to a booth near the back of the restaurant. Gabriel orders a cocktail, and I do too—a gin and lavender drink that sounds interesting. Cecelia pushes her menu towards me.

“The squid ink pasta sounds weird,” she says, pointing at it. “But I wanna know what it tastes like.”

“What would you normally order?” I glance over the menu, and she frowns.

“Bolognese.”

“Well, what about this? I’ll order the bolognese, and you order the squid ink pasta, and if you don’t like it, we’ll switch.”

Cecelia nods eagerly, just as the server brings us our drinks, and a loaf of bread with herbed olive oil. I look up, and the expression on Gabriel’s face as he looks at me and Cecelia makes my heart skip a beat in my chest.

It’s a look that I can’t put a name to, because if I do, it will shatter this carefully constructed thing between us, and turn it into something it was never meant to be.

I’m answering a question Cecelia is asking me as the server takes our orders, and I don’t hear what Gabriel says, or that it’s my turn next. I’m brought back into the conversation by Gabriel saying: “And she’ll have the veal bolognese,” and a moment later, the server answering with a smile.

“The veal bolognese for your wife, then. And you, sir?”

He addresses Danny, lightly, and my head is spinning. It’s a simple mistake. Easy to make with the two of us here, with two children. But it feels like someone jolted me back to reality.

“Not my wife,” Gabriel says with a chuckle, and the server looks up sharply.

“My apologies.”

I don’t hear what else Gabriel says, or anything, for a moment. It shouldn’t hurt, not at all—but the moment he says it, it feels like a stabbing pain in my chest. Not just what he said, but how he said it, so easily, as if it was a silly mistake.

What I’d been thinking, just a moment before. But it felt so much worse, hearing it out loud.

I swallow hard, fighting back senseless tears. Today has been perfect—everything has been perfect, up to this point, and I don’t want to ruin it. I tilt my chin up, intending to meet Gabriel’s eyes, and let him see that I don’t care, but he’s not looking at me. He’s talking to Danny, and that gives me another moment to gather myself.

I’m being ridiculous , I remind myself, tearing off a small piece of bread and busying myself with that. I know what this is. I was the one who suggested it to Gabriel, who came up with the plan for us to be friends with benefits, for him to introduce me to what it’s like to be with someone who makes me feel safe. And that goes beyond the bedroom. It’s driving lessons and afternoons at lunch and days like today, where he gently ushers me into knowing what it’s like to be a normal person again. A woman who wears her favorite clothes and goes to museums and out to dinner and doesn’t live in fear of a panic attack in the middle of it all.

The only thing that can ruin all of that is if I let myself get attached. And that’s the last thing in the world that I want. I’m happy here, and I don’t want anything to spoil that.

I have everything I could possibly want. I can’t lose it over developing feelings for someone who I know is unavailable. Who has been nothing but honest with me on that front, since the very start.

But it’s harder than I imagined it could be. And it feels that way for the rest of the evening, because it feels like we’re a family. It feels like that when dinner comes, and Cecelia loves hers, but insists I try it, and then wants to try mine, leading to the two of us sharing our meals back and forth. It feels like that when we drive to the theater district for the showing of Wicked , and the four of us sit together. And it feels like that on the drive home, when Gabriel puts the soundtrack on, and he and Cecelia sing off-key together the whole way back.

I tell myself that this is just a vision of what I could have in the future, with the right man. A man who has all the good qualities that Gabriel does, but who is emotionally available, who wants to fall in love again.

The fact that Gabriel feels like the right man doesn’t factor into it. It can’t.

I go upstairs to change, and Gabriel takes Cecelia and Danny up to bed. I stand in front of my mirror for a minute, draping the leather jacket over a chair, rubbing my hands up and down my arms. I’m not ready for today to be over. And I’m rapidly having to face the fact that I am ready for something else—and that will change everything about what Gabriel and I are to each other.

I start to reach for my earrings, to slide them off, and a knock comes at my door. I jump, startled, and hear Gabriel’s voice on the other side, asking if he can come in.

“Sure.” I hear the tremor in my voice, and I can’t quite look at him as he steps in. I slide my earrings off, setting them on my vanity, and I catch a glimpse of him in the mirror, watching as I reach up to take my hair down. I see him swallow, hard, his throat working as my hair slides free of the pins, heat building in his gaze. It sends a shiver over my skin, and I can feel the tension thickening in the air.

It feels sexual, but it feels domestic, too. Like a husband watching his wife after a night out. I can’t ignore that feeling, the gravity of it, and what it means for what will happen to my heart in the wake of all of this—but I’m also not ready to stop.

I’m not ready for things to end—not without one final thing between us.

“I came up to ask if you wanted to have a drink with me downstairs.” Gabriel’s voice is lightly gruff, tight with desire, and I feel heat bloom through me.

“That sounds nice.” The words stick in my throat. “I was going to change.”

Gabriel’s eyes sweep over me. “I like the dress.”

I turn to face him, and he says nothing, his hands in his pockets. But I can hear everything he’s not saying. I want to look at you, like this, now that I can. I want to take it off of you. I want you .

“Maybe I’ll leave it on,” I say softly, and he pushes the door open, letting me walk out first as we head back downstairs.

He pours us both a drink, bringing a glass of wine for me and a glass of cognac for himself into the living room with us. I feel another wave of heat ripple through me as I remember that first night we had drinks, the wine I spilled, and the way he knelt down so close to me, close enough to kiss. I know what his mouth feels like on mine now.

But there are things I still don’t know, and I want to find out.

“Did you enjoy the day?” Gabriel sits down, not in his armchair like he usually does, but next to me. “I always like going to the museum.”

I nod. “I do, too. Clara and I can spend entire days just wandering through them.” I try to think of something else to say, but my head feels muddled, my thoughts impossible to sort through. I want it to be tonight, and I don’t, all at the same time.

Today felt like the fantasy of a perfect day, everything that we could have had in a different life, everything I still can have, if I find someone I can love and who can love me the way I need to be in return. And while my heart feels like it’s cracking at the idea of things with Gabriel ending—I think this is how I want it to end. On a day like today, with this night—us, together, the way it could be if things were different.

I take another sip of my wine, and set the glass down, turning to look at him. Gabriel meets my gaze, and I think he knows what I’m going to say. But he’s patient, as always, letting me come to him. Letting me set the pace.

“I want you,” I whisper.

Gabriel smiles, one side of his mouth quirking up. “I always want you, Bella. You know that.” His eyes have darkened, and they sweep over me again, backing up everything he says. I can see his desire for me in his face, plain as day.

“I mean—” I reach for the wine again, finishing what’s left in the glass, and setting it down once more far enough away that I won’t accidentally knock it over. “I want all of it. Tonight.”

Gabriel goes very still. “I need you to be clear, Bella,” he says huskily, and I remember the first time he said that, when I proposed all of this. “You want to have sex? Tonight?”

I nod, biting my lip.

“I need you to say it out loud,” he says softly, that hoarse rasp that tells me just how badly he wants it lacing every word. It sends a ripple of desire through me, and I take a slow breath.

“Yes,” I whisper. “That’s what I want.”

Gabriel moves closer to me in an instant, his hand sliding into my hair, cupping the back of my head as his mouth presses against mine. It’s a soft, slow kiss, and I can feel how much he’s holding back. How careful he’s being with me. I know he’ll be that careful throughout all of it, and even though that’s undoubtedly what I need tonight, I can’t help but wonder what it would feel like if he let go of that control. If I were able to feel safe enough to let him do whatever he wanted to me, in any way that he wanted to do it.

I have no idea how long it would take, for that to be something I could handle. It makes me want to suggest a different arrangement, one where we keep sleeping together, one where he shows me everything that goes beyond tonight. But I know better than to suggest that—for both our sakes.

Gabriel’s tongue slides over my lower lip, and I open my mouth for him, letting his tongue tangle with mine as I reach down for the buttons of his shirt. He groans against my lips, and I let out a soft sigh, feeling his chest beneath my fingertips. I undo every button as he kisses me, until his shirt has fallen open, and I can lean in, pressing my palms against his chest and scratching my nails down to his abdomen.

The sound he makes sweeps through me, making everything in me tighten with need, and I break the kiss, sliding down to the floor. Gabriel’s eyes widen, and his hand grips the edge of the sofa. “Bella?—”

“I want to try.” This is the most difficult thing for me, more difficult than the idea of sex—but if this is our last night together, I want to find out what Gabriel feels like in my mouth. I want to make him feel the same pleasure that he gives me, every time he goes down on me. I want to make him groan and plead and tangle his hands in my hair, and I want to find out what he tastes like.

I move between his legs, sliding my hands up his inner thighs, and I feel the muscles there quiver. “If you come like this,” I murmur, looking up at him under my lashes as I reach for his belt, “can you get hard again? So we can have sex tonight, too?”

Gabriel groans, his head falling back against the couch. “Bella,” he murmurs, reaching down to run his fingers through my hair, “There’s probably no end to the number of times in a night that you could get me hard.”

A thrill of satisfaction runs through me at that, and I slide his zipper down, my fingers slipping inside his boxer briefs. Gabriel sucks in a breath as my fingertips brush against the hard, hot length of his cock, and he moans softly as I slip him free, my hand wrapping around the shaft.

He’s already rock-hard, pre-cum pearling at the tip, eager and ready for me. His hand drops away from my hair, both hands curled against the edge of the couch, careful not to push me. To let me go at my own pace.

I slide my hand up his length, brushing my thumb over the tip, the way I’ve learned he likes. I’m rewarded with a shudder, and he stiffens, his cock throbbing in my fist as I stroke him again. I feel his thigh tense under my other hand, his breathing faster.

“God, you look so beautiful,” he murmurs. “On your knees like that, for me.”

I want him in my mouth. My pulse beats hard in my throat, and I lean in, on the verge of wrapping my lips around him. But a sudden wave of memories hits me, of being pushed down onto my knees, a strange cock rubbing against my cheek, and I jolt back, letting go of him as if he’s burned me.

“I—” My throat feels like it’s closing up. “I’m sorry.” I push myself backwards, sitting up on the couch, trembling. Guilt washes over me, seeing Gabriel aroused and breathing hard, looking at me as I tell him I can’t stand to go down on him, after everything he’s done to please me.

He shakes his head as if bringing himself back to the present, reaching down immediately to tuck his cock away—with some effort, he’s so hard. “Bella.” He leans forward, stopping himself just shy of touching me, and once again, I think I fall a little more in love with him. It doesn’t matter that I’m not supposed to feel it, that we won’t have anything after tonight—I’m always going to love this man a little bit, I think. Clara was right about that, at least. It’s impossible to do what we’ve done together, and not feel something.

“We don’t have to do anything tonight,” Gabriel says gently. “You don’t have to go faster than you want to.”

I swallow hard, and I think of going back up to my room. Of stopping this here, for now. I feel a wave of disappointment wash over me, and I shake my head.

“I still want it,” I whisper. “Just—not that.”

I wait for that disappointment to show on his face. After all, it’s supposed to end after he takes my virginity. He’ll be disappointed if I never go down on him, won’t he? But there’s no sign of that on Gabriel’s face. Instead he leans forward, gently cupping my cheek in one hand as his mouth presses firmly against mine.

“Come with me,” he murmurs against my lips, and he takes my hand, helping me up off of the couch and leading me to the stairs.

My heart trips in my chest when we walk into his room. I’ve been in here before, of course—even slept in his bed—but it feels different in this moment. When I thought of what we could do together in his bed before, it felt abstract, uncertain. But this is real, and immediate. It’s happening right now.

Gabriel turns to face me, and I realize that his shirt is still hanging open, his belt undone. In his haste to get upstairs with me, he didn’t bother rearranging anything other than the most necessary things. A flood of warmth rolls through me at that realization, and I step forward, grazing my fingertips over his chest. The soft hair feels good, and I go slowly, wanting to draw it out. I want everything, but I want to remember it all.

He leans in, threading his fingers through my hair, one hand resting against my waist as he draws me closer. “There’s no rush,” he murmurs, as if he heard what I was thinking. “And we can stop anytime you want, Bella. I don’t care when. If I’m inside of you and you want to stop, we stop. Alright?”

I bite my lip, nodding. Gabriel’s hands slide down to my hips, slowly pushing up my dress. “I like this one,” he murmurs. “The color suits you.”

I start to say that I’ll wear it again for him sometime, and then I remember that there is no again after tonight. If I wear this dress, it’ll be because I want to, not to turn him on. But I push the thought away as soon as it comes, focusing on this moment, on the now. On tonight, and everything I want it to be.

Gabriel slides my dress up, his breath catching at what he sees beneath. “Did you plan this?” he murmurs, draping the dress over the back of a nearby chair and letting his gaze slide over the black lace bra and panties; that’s all I’m wearing now.

I shake my head. “Not really,” I admit. “I thought—maybe. I guess I just thought I should be prepared.”

“I’m not complaining.” A smile teases the corners of Gabriel’s mouth as he slides his palms beneath my breasts, cupping them through the lace as he drags his thumbs over my nipples. I gasp, and he bends down suddenly, scooping me into his arms as he carries me towards the bed.

I let out a small squeak of surprise, and before I know it, he’s laying me back against the pillows on the smooth bedspread. He shrugs off his open shirt, letting it fall to the floor, and I lick my lips, looking at all that smooth, chiseled muscle.

“Take off the pants, too,” I whisper, and Gabriel smirks.

“Alright,” he concedes. “But after that, I’m leaving the rest on until you’re ready for me.”

A flush heats my skin at the thought of what that might entail. I stare as Gabriel drags down his zipper, pushing his pants down his hips, leaving him in nothing but a pair of dark blue boxer briefs, the unmistakable bulge of his cock straining at the fabric.

He slides onto the bed to join me, leaning over me as he brushes a lock of hair out of my face and leans in to kiss me. The kiss is soft and slow, his lips brushing over mine, and he deepens it slowly as he teases my nipples with his fingertips until they’re stiff against the black lace. His hand curves around my back, finding the clasp of my bra, and he draws in a deep breath as he slips the garment free.

“I’ve thought about seeing you naked so many times,” he groans, tossing the bra away, his hands immediately sliding over my breasts. “You’re so fucking gorgeous, Bella. So beautiful?—”

We’ve barely started, and I already feel like I’m on fire, my breathing fast and heavy, a warm ache settling between my thighs. I want him so badly, and I let my legs part as Gabriel kneels between them, lowering his mouth to first one breast and then the other as he laves his tongue over my nipples.

When I’m panting and arching against him, wound so tightly that I’m on the verge of begging, he nudges my panties to one side with his hand. “God, you’re so fucking wet,” he groans, two fingers slipping into me. “And so fucking tight. I’m going to need you to come for me at least once, Bella, or I’ll never get my cock inside of you.”

He groans as I clench around his fingers, panting as just the sound of those filthy words sends my arousal another notch higher. “You like it when I talk dirty to you, don’t you?” he murmurs, slowly thrusting his fingers inside of me as the pleasure builds. “You like hearing how good you feel just around my fingers, all wet and tight. How I can’t wait to find out how you feel around my cock.”

I nod breathlessly, arching up into his touch. I’m so far beyond being frightened now; nothing left other than the anticipation of what comes next, of falling apart with pleasure and knowing Gabriel will be there to catch me. His thumb rolls over my clit, his other hand on my breast, and my head falls back against the pillows as I gasp and clutch at the sheets.

The orgasm comes faster than I expect. Gabriel has learned what I like, and he touches me exactly the way I want. The steady roll of his thumb matches the slide of his fingers, until I’m bucking and writhing, on the verge—and then I crash over, crying out his name on a ragged moan as I come hard on his hand.

When I look down, I can see how hard he is—straining against the front of his boxer briefs, his muscles tight with arousal. But he just slides lower, fingers still working inside of me. “Good girl,” he murmurs. “When you can take three of my fingers, sweetheart, you’ll be ready for my cock.”

And then, as I’m still gasping from the aftershocks of my first orgasm, he leans in and slides his tongue over my clit.

I moan, my fingers tangling in the blanket as I arch up helplessly against his mouth. I feel swollen and flushed and oversensitive, but somehow, the gentle slide of his tongue combined with the slow stroke of his fingers is exactly what I need. I’m already cresting towards a second orgasm—and then I feel Gabriel press a third finger against my entrance, slowly pushing inside of me.

The fullness makes me gasp, bucking against his hand as I cry out. He grips my hip, holding me steady as he slides his fingers deeper, and I let out a broken moan as he sucks my clit into his mouth, fluttering his tongue in a way that makes me come undone for a second time.

Stars explode behind my eyes. I feel dizzy, floating, my entire body tight, clenching around the thickness of his three fingers as he laps softly at my clit, easing me down as I cry out with another wave of pleasure.

Slowly, Gabriel pulls back, his thumbs hooking in the waistband of his briefs. I stare as his cock springs free, thick and hard, and I momentarily waver, even as desire floods me all over again.

“Is it really going to fit?” I whisper, and Gabriel smirks, reaching down to slide his hand along his shaft as he leans forward.

“That’s why I made you come twice, Bella. But if you want to stop, anytime, you tell me.”

He repeats it as he opens a drawer, pulling out a small foil packet. I bite my lip as I watch him tear it open, rolling the condom down his length as he stretches himself over me, one hand lining his cock up between my legs as the other gently touches my face.

“There’s no way to make this not hurt a little, sweetheart. But if you?—”

“I know.” I swallow hard, looking up at him. “I’ll tell you. But right now—all I want to say is yes.”

Gabriel lets out a shuddering breath, the thick, blunt pressure of his tip nudging against my entrance, and I can tell how much effort it has taken him to hold himself back. His eyes are dark, his jaw tight, his muscles tense as he pushes his hips slowly forward, another long breath leaving his lips as the tip of his cock sinks into me.

His hand fists in the pillow next to my head. “Oh, holy— fuck , fuck— ” His jaw tightens, and his entire body shudders as he holds himself still. “God, you feel better than I imagined.”

The thought of him imagining it, of all the times he must have gotten himself off in this very bed imagining it, sends another flood of desire through me. Gabriel feels it, because he groans, hips nudging forward as he sinks another inch into me.

I gasp. Even his fingers couldn’t compare. I feel stretched, taut and full, his cock almost too big, filling me to the point that I can’t imagine taking anything more. I go very still underneath him, pain warring with pleasure as Gabriel slowly slides forward, his mouth a thin line as he concentrates on not going too fast. From the way his muscles are trembling, I know what he wants—to thrust into me, to fuck me the way his every instinct is screaming for him to do—but he won’t. He’ll keep me safe, and that’s why I tangle my legs with his, my arms wrapping around his neck as I arch my hips upwards and pull him deeper into me.

“Oh god— fuck, Bella—” Gabriel lets out a ragged groan, hips flexing as he sinks into me to the hilt. He goes still again, our bodies locked together, his breathing coming in hard gasps as he looks down at my face. “Are you okay?”

It hurts, and I know I’ll be sore tomorrow, but I don’t care. It feels good, too, having him inside of me like this, filling me, the two of us as close as two people can be. I cling to him a little tighter, soaking in the sensations, the feeling of his heated skin against mine, the brush of his chest hair against my breasts, the soft curls of his hair against my fingertips. The swollen, throbbing fullness of his cock anchoring him inside of me.

I shiver, clenching around him, and Gabriel moans.

“Fuck, Bella, if you keep doing that— god , you feel so fucking good.”

I bite my lip, looking up at him. “Have you done this before?” The question comes out before I can stop it, and Gabriel looks at me confusedly for a moment.

“Sex? Bella, I?—”

“No.” I shake my head, shifting under him, which drags another moan from his lips. “Been—someone’s first.”

Gabriel lets out a ragged sigh. “Bella, the last thing I want to do is talk about other women while I’m inside of you?—”

Something twists in my chest. “Just tell me,” I whisper, and he reaches up, brushing a tear that I hadn’t realized was there away from the corner of my eye.

“No,” Gabriel murmurs. “I’ve never been the first before. And even if I had, it wouldn’t be like this, Bella. Being your first is—something else.”

He leans in, his lips pressing softly against mine, his tongue sliding into my mouth as he begins to move. He starts to fuck me in long, slow strokes that leave me trembling, pleasure building around the pain, until my nails are digging into his shoulders, and I feel like I can’t get close enough to him.

“I’ll try to make you come again,” he breathes, angling himself so that his pelvis is grinding against my clit with every thrust. “I’m so close, Bella. You feel so good, I can’t last much longer?—”

He already made me come twice. I wouldn’t have anything to complain about if there wasn’t a third. But I can feel it building, tighter and tighter, as Gabriel slides into me again and again, his mouth dragging over mine, down my throat, over my collarbone as he moans my name. I feel him stiffen inside of me, feel the throbbing in the moment before he thrusts once more, grinding against me as he groans aloud.

“I’m coming—oh fuck, Bella?—”

I arch underneath him, fingers tangling in his hair as I cry out, too, the thought of him coming inside of me and the feeling of his body rocking into mine sending me spiraling over the edge. I gasp his name against his lips, writhing under him, hot tears welling behind my eyes at the overwhelming pleasure and emotion of it all. It’s so much, almost too much—and I wrap myself around him, wanting to prolong it, to enjoy all of this for as long as I possibly can.

But it has to end eventually. Gabriel gives me one more soft kiss, sliding out of me, and I gasp at the sensation. Everything feels too sensitive, and he carefully moves away, going to the bathroom briefly before he returns. He’s still naked, and I stare at him as he walks towards the bed. I can’t imagine ever seeing a more gorgeous man. He’s sculpted to perfection, every inch of him, and as he lays back down in bed next to me, tugging down the covers, I can’t stop looking.

I already want him again. Even though this is supposed to be a one-and-done. I thought that would be all I wanted, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. It feels like I’ve been woken up, lit on fire, and I want him to teach me so much more. I want him over and over, for as many nights as I can have him.

Not love, I tell myself firmly. Just lust. But that kind of lust wasn’t part of the deal, either.

Gabriel reaches down, dragging his finger over my hip. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice this before,” he murmurs, tracing the rose tattoo there. “I guess I was so caught up in everything else.” He smiles, glancing up at me. “There’s got to be a story here.”

“There is,” I admit. “I went out for my eighteenth birthday with Clara. We told my father we were having a sleepover, but she had her own apartment by then. We snuck into a club, got drunk, and got matching tattoos. He never found out.”

“Rebel.” Gabriel traces it again, and my skin prickles. “I like that about you. You don’t let anyone tell you how to live your life.”

“I did, for a while.” I bite my lip. “In some ways, I always have. I just managed to rebel in little ways. But I couldn’t have gotten this far without your help.”

“My pleasure.” Gabriel chuckles, a clear innuendo in his voice, and wraps an arm around me, pulling me closer as he tugs the blankets back over us. His naked body nestles over mine, warm and solid. “Sleep here tonight,” he murmurs, his voice already drowsy.

I know it will make it harder to walk away in the morning. But I’m warm and comfortable, and I don’t want to get up. I’ve never been held like this, and I was afraid that I never would be. But the weight of Gabriel’s arm over me makes me feel safe, not trapped. Protected, instead of caged. The heat of his body sinking into mine feels like a warm blanket on a cold night, and I can’t help but think that I could never get enough of it, if I had this forever. And I want to stay right here, at least for tonight.

I want to lie here in his arms because, for the first time, I feel like I could fall asleep without my pills, and not have nightmares. Like I could get a full, normal night’s sleep for the first time in months.

I close my eyes, and all I dream about is Gabriel.