Rush (Breathless #1)

Rush (Breathless #1) Page 11
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Rush (Breathless #1) Page 11

Her hands went flat against the mattress just above her head as he leaned down, his palms flush against her, holding her down, holding her in place so she couldn’t move. Couldn’t resist.

It sent a thrill deep into her belly and fluttered outward until it was almost as if a drug had invaded her body. She was high on him. His power and control over her. His dominance.

This was what she craved. Him on top of her, deep inside her, him having absolute power. She couldn’t even draw a breath. She was light-headed from exhilaration and anticipation.

He withdrew and thrust forward again, jolting her body with the force of his reentry.

His gaze seared into hers, so intense that she shivered. His voice was guttural and so damn sexy as he rasped out his next words.

“Hell no, I’m not stopping. Not when I’ve waited this long to have you.”

This long to have you. God, but that nearly made her come on the spot. The idea that this man, a guy so far out of her league, had spent any time lusting over her was insane. Never had she imagined that he could possibly reciprocate her fixation.

She was reaching. Fixation was a strong word to ascribe to him. She had no idea what his feelings or fixation was with her, only that she’d spent a long time fantasizing about just being right here. Underneath him, pinned beneath his body, his cock buried so deep that she didn’t even know how she’d managed to accommodate him.

She wouldn’t say he was freakishly endowed. Certainly not mammoth, but he was definitely larger than any of her previous lovers, and holy crap but Gabe knew exactly what to do with what he had.

He released his hold on her hands, and when she would have moved them, he gave her a look—fierce—and pushed them back down again before once more releasing her. It was a command that didn’t need to be voiced, and she complied, leaving her hands where he’d placed them, her gaze riveted to him as she waited breathlessly for what he’d do next.

He reached down, grasped her legs and pushed them upward to wrap around his waist—and again that look. That shivery, sexy look he sent her that told her to leave her legs just as he’d put them. Then his hands slid down, underneath her ass, and he began to push into her, hard, forceful, a steady rhythm that sent waves of pleasure singing through her body.

It was instinctive to reach for him. She needed something to anchor her in the storm that was his possession of her. But his eyes snapped to her again, and his jaw tightened. She let her hands fall back to where they’d been.

“I’ll tie them next time,” he said. “Don’t push me, Mia. I call the shots. I own you. You’re mine. You don’t fucking move those hands until I tell you. Understand?”

“Yes,” she whispered, her body so taut, so very close to the edge that it was all she could do to even breathe.

Her pulse accelerated, nearly exploding, tripping erratically at the sexy, badass look on his face. His gaze was full of promise. Of all the things he’d do to her. All the things he would make her do. And God help her but she couldn’t wait.

He pounded into her again, shaking her body with the force of his reentry. She closed her eyes, clamping her teeth together to call back the cry that threatened to burst free.

“Eyes,” he snapped. “On me, Mia. Always on me. You don’t come with your eyes closed. I want to see everything you have when I’m inside you. You don’t ever shut me out.”

Her eyes flew open, finding him instantly, her breath exploding in a violent rush.

He withdrew and then surged forward again, his hands tightening on her ass. She’d wear his fingerprints for sure. He held her, spread her even wider as he hammered into her. She couldn’t last. Wouldn’t last. It was too overwhelming. It was too…everything.

“Say my name, Mia. Who owns you? Who do you belong to?”

“You,” she gasped. “Gabe. You. Only you.”

Satisfaction blazed in his eyes. His expression was fierce and possessive, strain evident in his jaw.

“That’s right, baby. Mine. You say my name when you come.”

He slipped a hand between them, finding her clit and stroking as he continued to thrust into her.

“Come,” he demanded. “One more. Give it to me, Mia. I want to feel you go all wild around my cock. Soft and so silky. So very tight. It’s fucking heaven.”

She let out a sharp cry, her arousal at a fever pitch. Her orgasm flashed, explosive and intense, even harder than before. He was deep. Impossibly deep. So far inside her that she could feel nothing else but his pulsating hardness as it drove through her snug tissue.

His thighs slapped against her bottom, shaking her. She arched, wanting more, needing more. And still he thrust, his face a mask of strain.

“My name,” he ground out. “My name when you come, Mia.”

“Gabe!”

His eyes glittered, a look of triumph as she writhed beneath him, her orgasm quaking through her body with an intensity she hadn’t imagined possible.

She went limp on the bed, boneless, exhausted and sated as he continued to press into her. He slowed his thrusts, as though he wanted to savor every moment. He closed his eyes, stroking deep and then shallow. Then he pressed his lips together and began to move with renewed power. Deep. Hard.

And then he went taut against her, every muscle in his arms and chest straining, coiled tight. His hands moved from her ass and back to where her hands still rested above her head. He pressed his palms into her, pushing them deeply into the mattress as he lowered his body until it was nearly flush with hers.

“Mine,” he gritted out. “Mine, Mia.”

She went slick around him as he pulsed wetly into her. He continued to thrust, jetting deep inside her. His release seemed to go on and on. She could feel the dampness between them, could hear the wet sounds as he sank into her over and over.

And then he went deep and held himself there, slowly lowering his body the rest of the way until he covered her completely. His chest heaved and his breaths were hot against her neck. He was still wedged tightly within her. He was still hard as a rock even after coming so hard for so long. God, but he felt so good.

“Can I touch you?” she whispered. She needed to touch him. She could contain herself no longer. It was an overwhelming urge she couldn’t control.

He didn’t respond, but he slid his hands from hers, freeing her, and she took that silent gesture as assent.

Tentatively she slid her hands over his shoulders, gaining more courage when he didn’t object. She allowed her hands to roam, luxuriating in the postcoital glow. They slid down his back as far as she could reach and then up again, stroking and offering him the same caresses he’d given to her.

He made a sound of satisfaction that made her entire body clench. He groaned in reaction when she squeezed around his cock, and then he pressed a kiss to her neck just below her ear.

“Beautiful,” he whispered. “And mine.”

Pleasure consumed her, at his calling her beautiful but most especially that he’d staked his claim. For however long their arrangement would last, she was his. Truly his. In a way most women don’t belong to a man.

There wasn’t a part of her body that didn’t feel the stamp of his possession. She was tired, sore and completely satisfied. Moving wasn’t an option, and so she waited, content to lie there, him surrounding her and still deeply embedded in her.

Chapter nine

Gabe lay next to Mia listening to the soft sounds of her breathing. She was warm and soft against him and he was gripped by an odd…contentment. Her head was pillowed on his arm, which was growing numb, but he refused to move because he liked the feel of her nestled against his side.

He was not a cuddler. Not since he was married had he ever devoted any time to the more intimate parts of lovemaking. Not that he hadn’t let women sleep over, but there was always a distinct separation, almost an invisible barrier between him and the other women.

Mia hadn’t given him much choice in the matter. As soon as he’d withdrawn from her body and cleaned them both, she’d snuggled into his side and fallen asleep. And he hadn’t done anything to rectify the matter.

Instead, he lay here pondering the volatility of their coming together.

Guilt plagued him. He’d promised her that he’d be patient and ease her into the physical aspects of their relationship. He should have gone slower, been more gentle. He should have made certain that he had more control.

But the simple truth was that from the moment she walked into his apartment, he’d been instantly seized with the primal urge to have her. Nothing about their sexual encounter had been slow or gentle. He’d fucked her hard and with an urgency that he couldn’t even explain.

He glanced at her closed eyes, at her tousled hair and the swell of her breast pressed solidly into his side. He’d imagined that after sating his initial lust for her, he would gain control of this seeming obsession, that he’d be able to settle and treat this as he did all his other partnerships with women. If anything, this first encounter had only sharpened the edge of his arousal. He was hungry for more. In no way had fucking her diminished his burning need for her. He wanted her again. Goddamn it but he wanted her now.

Forgotten were all his promises to ease her into his lifestyle, to take it slow with his demands. He wanted to tie her up and fuck her until they both passed out. He wanted to do about a million things with her, none of which included going slow or easing her into anything. The only thing he wanted to ease was himself. Inside her. Only it wouldn’t be easy. He wanted to fuck her hard, deep and long, until she had absolutely no doubt that she was his.

She stirred beside him, made a sleepy noise as her arm slid over his chest. His hand came down over her arm in a caress, the simple need to touch her overwhelming him. Her eyelids fluttered open and she stared up at him, her eyes hazy.

“How long have I been asleep?”

“Not long. Maybe an hour.”

She started to push herself upward, uncertainty flashing in her eyes.

“Sorry. I mean I didn’t intend to fall asleep. I should probably be going.”

He scowled and pulled her roughly back down and let his hand travel up her body, over her curves and to her breast. The hell she was going anywhere. What hadn’t she understood about the fact that she was his? And being his didn’t include crawling out of his bed the minute the orgasm was over.

“Call your roommate and have her prepare you an overnight bag. I’ll send a car for it and you can ride in to work with me tomorrow.”

Mia’s expression became troubled. “How is that going to look if we show up to work together?”

His frown deepened. “It won’t look like anything other than we met for breakfast to discuss your employment and we came in to work together.”

She went silent but nodded.

“Use the phone by the bed and call Caroline.”

He loosened his hold so she could roll away, and he watched for a long moment, letting his gaze roam over her bare back and her rounded ass. God, she was beautiful.

Forcing his stare away from her, he turned to grab his cell, and while she spoke in low tones in the background to her roommate, he placed a quick call to his driver and gave him instructions to pick up Mia’s things from her apartment.

When he turned back over, Mia was sitting up on the bed, her expression still one of uncertainty and awkwardness.

What he wanted to do was pull her underneath him and plunge into her. He was hard as a rock, and the sheets were bunched around his waist, so at least she couldn’t see just how aroused he was. Not that she wouldn’t know very soon. And yet, he didn’t want to haul her underneath him just now. And he couldn’t even explain that particular thought since his overwhelming need was to get back inside her—as soon as he could part those gorgeous thighs and bare that pretty pussy of hers.

If it were any other woman he’d either take his pleasure or suggest they both sleep, and he’d turn away, isolating himself from any intimacy. But with Mia he found he had other…needs. Needs he didn’t even understand. Nor did he particularly want to analyze them or dig too deep. He wasn’t certain he’d like what he discovered.

“Come here,” he said, offering his arm so she could lie as she’d done before.

Mia pulled the covers up and snuggled into his side, resting her head on his shoulder.

For a long moment they were both silent and then Mia stirred, turning her head so she could look up at him.

“You aren’t going to make me call you master or anything like that are you?”

His eyebrow went up and he glanced down to see a mischievous twinkle in her eye. He shook his head. She amused him, and he found himself wanting to laugh. “No. It sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it? I’m not much on the appearances of a certain lifestyle or stereotype.”

“No yes sir or no sir?”

He relaxed into their playful banter and smacked his hand over her ass. He was comfortable around her, and he found he enjoyed this…moment. Or whatever the hell it was. He should be fucking her again, and yet he was savoring just being here in bed and watching her smile and flirt. Holy hell, but if she turned that flirty, innocent smile on another man he wouldn’t be responsible for his actions.

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