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“What just happened?” She’s all flushed cheeks and blown pupils. Fucking perfection.

“You just squirted, Gabriella.” I grin watching her mind absorb that information.

I hold the drink to her lips.

“Drink.” She takes the glass and, to my surprise, downs it in one. The primal need for this woman takes over and I take the glass out of her hand and toss it to the side, hearing the glass shatter, but I don’t give a shit. I kiss her with urgency. The mixture of her sweetness and the bitterness of the cocktail creates an explosive taste on my tongue.

“What the hell are you doing to me?” I growl against her lips.

“The same thing you’re doing to me.” She pants as she hooks her legs around my waist and pulls me closer, our wet bodies pressed together, and the need to be inside her intensifies, but I can’t, I won’t allow it. If I go there with her, I’m well and truly fucked in all senses. There would be no coming back from that, no recovering from the mark she will leave on me once I know what it feels like to be inside of her.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Gabriella

I can’t describe the feeling that’s pulsing through me right now. I am riding a high that’s a mixture of alcohol, lust, and desire. He just made me come harder than I ever have. He made me squirt. I didn’t think I was capable of that, especially out in the open, but I don’t care. I want him in a way that I’ve never wanted anyone. Sensible Gabby would stop this; she’d end this and walk away with what was left of her dignity and pride intact. But sensible Gabby has left the building, fucked off back to New York and left me to make sense of this, and I can’t. All I know is I want him, need him, and he’s kissing me back like he feels the same way.

Our lips never part. Every time his tongue collides with mine, tingles spread throughout my body, driving my need for him forward.

Cold air hits my wet flesh as he walks up the steps and out of the pool and I break the kiss to look at him. His lust filled eyes darken, and I know we aren’t done here; there’s more in store. I bite down on my lower lip in anticipation.

We enter the large bathroom, walking past the white bath that sits in the middle of the room, and he opens the glass door of the double shower, turning the shower handle and pressing my bare back against the cold tile. The sound of running water clatters on the floor tiles as his hot mouth moves to my breast, sucking and swirling his tongue over my sensitive nipple, pulling a moan from me. I work my fingers into his hair as he repeats the movement on the other and sucks so hard it’s to the point of pain, but I lean into it, craving more. I love it when he’s a little rougher. It sparks something inside of me. When he takes control, I become putty in his hands. I’d let him do anything to me because I trust him. I have faith that he would never hurt me or push me too far. When he releases my nipple, I place my hands on his naked chest, pushing him back against the shower door, the water still running, steaming the glass.

I stare at his chest. The intricate artwork decorates his body like a story I could spend all day getting lost in. I want to ask him what they all mean, but right now, the need to have him inside me somehow takes over. I swipe my tongue over his nipple and a groan rumbles from his chest, making me grin. I do it again and again, and my own moan escapes me. A strong hand grips the back of my neck and moves me to look at him. He stares down at me with an intensity I’ve never seen before, and suddenly, I feel like the most powerful and desired woman in the world.

“I need that pretty mouth on my cock. Now.” His voice is gravelly and low and it makes my clit throb.

He guides me down, his hand still on my neck. I sink to my knees, hooking my fingers into the waistband of his swim shorts, and pulling them down as I go.

His erect cock springs free, already leaking with pre cum and I hum in approval.

He releases my neck, and I waste no time, planting my hands on his thick thighs and taking him into my mouth. He hits the back of my throat, and I gag a little, remembering to relax the back of my throat like he showed me last time. I use my hand to hold the base and pull him out of my mouth just enough to be able to swirl my tongue like I’m tying the knot of a cherry stem over his pierced tip, earning a deep groan from him.

“Fuck, Mia cara. You keep doing that, and I’m going to shoot my load down your pretty little throat. Is that what you want?”

I nod.

“Good girl, that’s it, take all of me.”

His praise spurs me on and the need to circle my clit becomes too strong, so I reach between my legs to ease the ache, but he grips my hair, his cock popping out my mouth as I look up at him.

“Don’t touch yourself. You only come if I say so.”

And holy shit, his words have me on the verge of tears because my need to finish just hit an all-time high. I take him back into my mouth, working his shaft with my hand and cupping his balls and sucking and swirling my tongue and with every movement, my need to come becomes unbearable. I sense he’s close when his cock twitches inside my mouth and I get ready take his cum.

But he pulls out of my mouth and drags me to my feet, not giving me a second to get my bearings before he spins me and presses my back to his chest.

“Hands on the wall and arch your back,” he growls into my ear, and I do as I’m told.

Is this it? Is this the moment we take this to the next level, where we truly blur the lines of our friendship and connect in the most intimate way. When I feel his fingers push inside me, disappointment floods me, but it soon passes with every strokeof his fingers. My legs weaken, and my hands feel ready to slide down the shower wall as my orgasm builds to breaking point.

‘Brad, please, I...” I say weakly, not able to finish my sentence, too lost in the building pressure working its way through my body like a tidal wave getting ready to crash against the shore.

“Fuck, your cunt is begging me to fuck you, isn’t it? Look at you dripping all over my fingers.”

My body quivers at his words, wound so tight I am ready to explode again and it would only take one rub of my clit with his expert fingers to make me shatter into tiny fragments. My fingernails scratch the tiles as my hands slide down while I try with all that I have to keep myself upright. One large hand covers both of mine, pinning me in place.

“Don’t move.” His breathing is ragged; it sounds like he’s running. I turn my head to see as he works his cock in a vigorous motion himself.