Dauntless (Sons of Templar MC #5)(47)

One hand went back up to my sagging wrists while the other went to his shorts. The few seconds he took to free himself yawned into forever. The overwhelming craving for him, for release, took every cell in my body hostage.

Then I got it. What my empty body screamed for. Filled to the hilt.

It was a magnificent mingling of pleasure and pain as I got used to his considerable size.

He mistook my cry for pain, and his entire form froze, the cords in his neck pulsing. “Becky, you okay? Did I hurt you?” His mask slipped, the hunger and domination mingling with concern.

I nodded rapidly. “I’m good. Only if you move.”

I barely got the last word out before he heeded my command. Boy, did he heed it.

All concern was gone as he slammed into me, brutal, unyielding, f*cking beautiful.

“You’re gonna come now,” he rumbled in my ear.

I wanted to whisper that I was going to come when I was good and ready, but I was too far gone for that shit. My body was at his mercy, and it obeyed his order.

Everything exploded into a thousand different colors, better than any high I’d ever ridden. Cleaner, purer.

Right.

He didn’t stop as I came down. If anything, he quickened his pace, building me up before I even had the chance to come back to earth.

He captured my mouth to taste the last of my cries. Through stars dancing in my vison, his midnight gaze penetrated. “I’m far from f*ckin’ done with you, firefly,” he growled, slamming into me.

Oh, he was far from done with me. He f*cked me into oblivion, taking me to the stars and away from any coherent thought for hours to come.



“Thank you,” I whispered against his chest, trailing my fingers along the ink of his pec.

He turned me so our eyes met. “You don’t have to thank me for every orgasm I give you. I plan on giving you many, many more. It’ll get exhausting to thank me every time. A blow job would suffice.”

I smacked his pec and he grinned.

“It’s impossible to have a conversation with you.”

He bundled me in his arms. “Sorry, firefly. What are you thanking me for?”

“For bringing me here. For putting your entire life on hold. For Scrabble, chocolate chip pancakes. For the peace. For giving me something I couldn’t give myself. A space to get clean. A second to breathe.”

He was quiet for a long time, his body rigid. The only thing telling me he hadn’t drifted off to sleep was the back and forth of his fingers on my spine.

“Why are you thanking me now?” he asked finally, his voice thick. “You plannin’ on runnin’ off in the middle of the night now that you’ve had your wicked way with me?” His words were teasing but his tone held something else.

Fear.

I moved to meet his eyes, and not a hint of humor twinkled in them. “No, I’m not planning on that. Sneaking around in the dark isn’t really my style. It’s just… I thought I’d tell you now when I’m mellow and not irritated at you. Which I’m sure I will be approximately twelve hundred times between now and when we leave. And I don’t want the fact I’m stubborn and a bitch when irritated to stop me from letting you know how much this means to me. So I’m thanking you now to cover my bases.”

He blinked at me a couple times.

The silence started to make me uncomfortable. “You know, it’s customary when a person thanks another person to say you’re welcome.”

Gabriel squeezed me. “You’re welcome,” he whispered, pulling me up his body so my delicate flesh rubbed against his concrete abs. I let out a hiss as my sensitive nipples stood to attention. His face darkened with desire.

“Though I’ve got to admit, my actions weren’t exactly pure in bringin’ you here, babe. In fact, they were downright selfish. You see, I want you.” His hand moved to cup my bare ass. “I want this,” he said against my mouth. His other hand moved to stroke my head. “But I also want this,” he murmured. “And I kind of wanted both in one piece. So I brought you here to find the pieces. Get you put back together so I could have you for myself.”

I paused my stroking, not eager to give up the moment for reality. But I had to. “You can’t,” I whispered.

His eyes hardened. “Can’t what?”

“Have me for yourself.” I silenced his protest with a hand on his lips. “Because I don’t even have myself. Don’t own myself. So I can’t jump into something like this. Not until I’ve gotten to know the stranger whose body I’ve been living in for twenty-three years.”

He frowned at me, moving my hands off his lips. “I’m not givin’ you up,” he said, voice firm.

If now’s the time to be candid, I guess I better do it right. “Me neither. I can’t,” I admitted. “I just can’t give you everything.”

He yanked me to his front, cupping my face. “I’m happy with what I got, for now,” he murmured.

I swallowed against the promise—and warning—in his tone. Before he could capture my mouth and take me away from reality once more, I pulled back slightly. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

He grinned. “I’m not exactly getting the raw end of the deal, babe. At least my cock isn’t. He’s not feelin’ sad at all.”