Wild and Free (The Three #3)(65)

“Really?”

Abel wrapped his fingers around one of her forearms and gave it a tug. She got him, let him go, and he shifted her to his front, moving in so she was pressed to the sink.

She tipped her head back, lifted her hands to rest them on his chest, and he caught her eyes.

“I honest to God didn’t even know I was doin’ it with you,” he told her.

He saw relief in her face before she murmured, “I kinda sensed that, but I asked because I, well…had to be sure.”

“It’s only been you, Lilah.”

Her peering into his eyes turned to staring.

She understood what he was saying.

Two hundred years and only one.

Her.

Still, she asked, “What?”

“Never lived with a woman,” he informed her. “Never had a relationship. Never really even dated. Went out with women. Had drinks. Had fun. Did other shit,” he added the last carefully. “Nothin’ else. Especially not the lap thing.”

“That’s important,” she guessed, still staring in his eyes.

“Only realized it when Sonia pointed it out. But yeah. The minute I became aware of where you were and that I put you there, I knew I couldn’t handle you bein’ anywhere but there.” He dipped his face closer to hers. “Not another woman got that from me. Not another woman really got anything from me, save my dick. But I don’t think in all my years I’ve even put one in my lap for any reason, *cat. Not shittin’ you. Musta sensed it was important so I didn’t do it.”

“That’s cool,” she whispered, the relief still there, but now it was heavier.

“Yeah.”

“So many things about you are cool, Abel,” she kept going and he felt her words deep in his gut. “The more you learn, the more awesome it all is.”

Fuck, he f*cking loved that she thought that way. And she was not handing him a line, saying words to make him feel better. It was written clear in her expression.

Awe.

And something else. Something warm and exquisite.

Something he felt in his gut, tightening further in his chest, and hardening his cock in a way he couldn’t fight.

He gave in to the last, moved his hands to her nightshirt, and bunched it at the waist.

Her lips parted, her eyes went hooded, and he smelled the rush between her legs.

That did it; his cock stiffened and began to pulse.

He pulled her nightshirt up further, slid his hands in, then down. Hooking his thumbs in her panties, he pulled them down.

She bit her lip and leaned into him as they dropped to her ankles and she stepped out of them.

He gripped her hips and yanked her up, resting her bared ass on the edge of the sink.

She opened her legs, the lush rise of the scent of her cunt assaulting him, and he growled.

Her fingers went to the jeans he’d tugged on and gave a passable go at buttoning, leaving the last two undone. He dropped his mouth to hers and stared in her eyes, their breaths coming heavy, twining as she unbuttoned more, reached in, and wrapped her hand tight around his dick.

“Hard for me,” she breathed.

“Yeah,” he grunted as her hand got tighter.

She stroked and he braced, his fingertips digging into the flesh at the top of her ass, wanting to thrust into her hand but wanting more to give her what she wanted to take.

“Is this mine?” she whispered.

“Fuck yeah,” he growled.

She stroked again, a groan stuck in his throat, and he slid his hand along the juncture of her thigh and in.

She gasped against his mouth, the rush of breath so sweet, he thrust into her hand as he slid two fingers deep into her wet.

“Is this mine?” he asked, voice rough.

“Oh yeah.”

He thrust his dick into her hand again as he did the same with his fingers into her *.

Her breath hitched and wet flooded around his fingers.

Beautiful.

“You need me to f*ck you, baby?” he asked.

“Yes, Abel,” she whispered, then finished on a husk, “Need.”

He slid his fingers out, muttering, “Guide my dick home.”

She didn’t hesitate. She pulled him fully free of his jeans and straight to her cunt.

The instant his cockhead felt her wet, he plunged, her hand flying free, both going to his shoulders to hold on.

He tipped her ass on the basin so he had more of her, dipped his knees, and took her hard, back bowed, forehead to hers, their eyes locked, breaths cutting fast.

She slid her hands urgently up to the sides of his neck, slightly back, fingertips in his hair, and held tight.

“God, you fill me.”

He knew she meant in more ways than one.

“Hold on, *cat,” he warned, and she held even tighter, jerking up her knees, taking more, loving it, showing him that by clutching hard with everything she had. Her thighs to his sides. Her hands to his neck. Her fingertips against his scalp. And her * around his cock, milking him deep.

“Fuck,” he groaned, hammering hard.

“Faster,” she begged on a breath.

He gave her faster.

“More,” she gasped.

He wrapped his arms around her so he was supporting her weight—she was only balancing on the edge of the sink—and drove deeper.