Page 39 of Gabriel (Legacy of Heathens #4)

Gabriel

H er hands hovered over my wrists, fingers brushing the lock, but then… they stilled.

I saw it in her eyes first. It was a flicker of doubt. Of what it would mean if she let go. If she set me loose without one of her guard dogs hovering nearby.

She stepped back, just a hair’s breadth, but it was enough.

“You’re not ready,” I said, quietly and without accusation.

She shook her head once. “Not yet.”

I nodded as I relaxed into the restraint. “That’s okay.”

Her gaze snapped back to mine, surprised.

“You thought I’d be mad?” I asked, smirking faintly. “Are you disappointed?”

“Men usually don’t take no very well,” she muttered, trying to sound hard, but her voice was softer than she wanted it to be.

“I’m not like other men. I’m me, and I’m at your mercy.” I dipped my head to catch her eye. “Besides, you’re protecting yourself. That’s smart.”

She didn’t move, but relief unclenched her shoulders.

“But,” I added slowly, “just because you don’t want to uncuff me… doesn’t mean we can’t still do something else.”

Her brows lifted, guarded curiosity sparking in her eyes.

“Let me guide you, Amara,” I said. “Just my voice—no hands—and you’ll stay in control. But we don’t have to end it with just kissing.” She was still watching me, cautious but captivated. “Let me talk you through it. If you don’t like it, we stop. If you want more, I’ll keep going.”

“You might get too attached,” she half teased.

“It’s a possibility.” Although I suspected that ship had already sailed. “Are you brave enough to explore this current between us?”

“Oh, I’m brave enough,” she scoffed. “But I need your assurance you won’t put too much emotion into us fooling around and you’ll stop it the moment I say so.”

“I promise,” I said. “But rest assured, you’ll be begging me not to stop.”

She rolled her eyes, but she was biting back a smile. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” I murmured, “but I’m here. Still very much yours to command.”

She hesitated a moment longer, then gave me a small but decisive nod.

“Okay,” she said.

Heat stirred in my chest. It wasn’t just lust, but also a flicker of trust. The kind that mattered more than any chain.

I tilted my head, voice dropping to a murmur. “Good. Then let’s start simple. Close your eyes and let me tell you what I’d do to you if my hands were free.”

It wasn’t a command, but a choice. She hesitated, then obeyed.

“If I could use my hands right now, I’d start slow. Fingers at your waist. Just enough pressure to remind you I’m here. That you’re mine to touch.”

Her breath caught, sharp and subtle.

“I’d trace them up your sides, over your ribs, gently enough to make you shiver. Not just to tease you, but to learn you. Every breath. Every twitch. Every little sound you try to swallow.”

She opened her eyes at that, just for a second, gaze locked on mine like I’d pulled something honest out of her.

God, she was stunning like this. Her cheeks flushed, chest rising and falling as she took measured breaths, like she was trying to keep herself from coming apart.

And I watched her—really watched her.

The way her shirt clung to her skin, the hem slightly wrinkled.

A sliver of skin peeked out where her top had shifted, just above the waistband of her loose-fitting pants.

It wasn’t about what was exposed—it was about her.

Her presence, her power, the way she held herself like she wasn’t sure if she should run or take the lead.

She hadn’t backed away. She was still here.

“Amara,” I said, voice low, barely more than a breath. “Will you take your clothes off for me?”

She blinked, surprised again. But this time, it didn’t seem to be about the request—more about how I said it.

Her silence stretched for a heartbeat, then another, her gaze never leaving mine.

“I’m not doing it for you,” she said, her voice edged with steel.

I smiled. “I know. You’re doing it for you. And I get to watch, if you’ll let me.”

She tilted her head, eyes narrowing, studying me like she couldn’t decide whether to be cautious or bold.

I waited for her to choose. My goal was to let her burn down the distance between us in her own time and her own way.

“I keep control,” she said.

“Always,” I murmured.

She stood slowly, every movement deliberate. Her hands went to the hem of her shirt. She paused, watching me like she was daring me to speak, to ruin it with a single wrong word.

I didn’t.

I just looked at her like she was something sacred.

She pulled the fabric over her head in one fluid motion, letting it fall to the floor. No shame. No performance. Just a woman making a choice.

And it undid me more than anything else could have.

My breath caught as I soaked in every inch of her skin, including the scar on her lower belly—a result of a transplant she needed as a child to survive. Thank God she did.

Her eyes followed mine, and she brought her hand to it as if to hide it.

“Don’t,” I hissed.

“It’s ugly.”

“It’s a reminder of what you endured to survive. Don’t ever hide it.” I wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to say, because she hadn’t moved. “You’re beautiful,” I continued softly, the truth of it ringing in my voice.

I swore I’d have fallen to my knees if I wasn’t cuffed.

She exhaled deeply, like maybe she needed to hear that, and her hand finally moved away, letting me admire her scar.

“Maybe you could lose your pants, panties, and bra,” I suggested gently. “If you feel comfortable, of course.”

She nodded, then shimmied her pants and panties down those stunning legs. Her bra slipped off next, adding to the growing pile of clothes on the floor.

My cock jumped eagerly.

She stood there, completely bare and utterly breathtaking. I genuinely worried my heart might give out before I even had the chance to bring her pleasure.

Then she climbed onto my lap, bare skin pressing to mine. Warm. Confident. In control.

Still her.

But she let me see her now—and that was the most intimate thing she’d ever done.

Her body was soft against mine in the way that only happened when someone truly let you see them. She settled over my hips, like she knew exactly what kind of power she held in this moment.

And she did.

Not because she was straddling me. Not because I was cuffed. But because I’d given myself over to her. Willingly.

Every inch of control, every breath.

“Touch me,” she said, voice low.

I pulled at the cuffs slightly, just enough for the chains to rattle. “Can’t,” I reminded her, and let a half-smile touch my lips. “But I can talk you through every damn thing I would do.”

She pouted and huffed an impatient sigh. “Then start talking.”

I breathed her in, her scent driving me wild.

“My hands would start here,” I said, turning my head just enough to brush my mouth over the curve of her shoulder. “I’d hold you like you were made for me.”

Her fingers curled in the fabric of my shirt, holding on like she needed the contact as much as the control.

“I’d run them down your back. Make you feel every inch of how much I want you.

” She exhaled shakily, and her hips shifted slightly over my jeans-covered thighs.

“And then I’d kiss you,” I murmured, “everywhere. Not just the places that make you moan, though I’d do that too.

But the places you don’t let anyone touch because they remember pain. ”

Her body stilled.

“And I’d worship them,” I added with conviction. “I’d worship every inch until those places remembered something else.”

That broke something in her. Her forehead dropped to mine, and I felt the tremor that ran through her.

“No one’s ever said things like that to me,” she whispered.

“I’m saying them,” I rasped. “I’ve been wanting to say them for a very long time. Please, Amara, come undone for me.”

“The sound of your voice alone could make me come.”

My cock twitched.

I’d do anything to watch her fall apart, to see that raw, blissful look as she lost herself completely, her face etched with pure, unfiltered ecstasy all for me.

Somewhere in the deep corner of my mind, I realized my plans and lines of allegiance had started to blur. I’d wanted Amara for so long, and only kept my distance because I’d never jeopardize Anya’s safety and Sailor’s wellbeing.

I started to think that maybe I could do it all—have it all—because Amara had become just as important to me as my own family.

Her hands came to rest against my chest, supporting herself. The new position had her arms pressing her breasts together, tempting me. They were full and gorgeous. I couldn’t wait to taste them and hear her moans as I sucked on her nipples.

“Can I kiss you?”

Fuck. Maybe I’d be the one to come undone first.

“Yes. You can do whatever you want to me, preciosa .”

Her dark hair cascaded around us like a curtain as she pressed her lips to mine, gentle at first, before dissolving into a kind of hunger that left no room for doubt.

Her hips shifted, dragging herself against me, and I groaned into her mouth, needing more but careful not to rush her.

She moved with purpose, grinding slowly, teasing, learning me. Every small adjustment, every breathy sigh, felt like a conversation spoken through touch.

“Amara,” I rasped. She paused, her deep blue eyes finding mine. “Would it be okay to ask you to sit on my face?”

Her mouth parted and her cheeks flushed deep pink. “Why?”

“I want to taste your pussy,” I admitted, uncaring that she had kidnapped me and cuffed me in this godforsaken cabin. “Fuck you with my mouth.”

“But—”

“Please, preciosa . I’m dying here.”

“How are you going to breathe?”

“Fuck breathing. I’d die if it meant being smothered by your pussy. Get up here.”

With an eager expression, she scooted up my body, her inner thighs smearing her arousal over my shirt and perfuming the air. She smelled like heaven.

Her hands reached for the headboard to steady herself, her fingers brushing against mine as they intertwined. I tilted my face and she lowered her hips down until her pussy came to settle over my face and inhaled deeply, then licked a slow path over her entrance.

“Heaven,” I growled as I closed my eyes, then licked again.

“Fuck,” she breathed, and finally sat all the way down. Her eyes locked on me as my mouth went to work. Her blue eyes became hazy, like she was drunk.

And me… I ate her pussy like it was the last fucking meal I’d ever get.

I licked and sucked, reveling in the way her hips rocked against my mouth. Her moans were the sweetest fucking sounds I had ever heard. Her hips rolled each time I flattened my tongue against her pussy.

“Oh my God,” she groaned, the desperation in her voice spurring me on. She was wet and slippery, the flesh around her sensitive nub swollen. I lapped at her, drinking my fill, thrusting my tongue inside her entrance.

“O-ohhh…” she exclaimed on a moan, rocking back and forth, fucking herself on my tongue and my face. “Fuck, Gabriel…”

I stilled, my eyes locking on her lust-filled eyes and her cheeks flushed. “What… Why did you stop?”

“You called me Gabriel.”

“That’s your name,” she breathed, inching away slightly. “Don’t tell me that’s a dealbreaker.”

I smiled while my cock twitched and throbbed against my jeans.

“Certainly not. Now give me back my pussy,” I demanded in a growl. “Let me finish what I started.”

She shifted her body down and I happily took her weight.

A groan left me at the same time she moaned, her thighs shuddering with the impact. I drew her clit between my lips as she rocked her hips back and forth.

Eager to see her come, I pushed my tongue inside her entrance, humming my approval as she rocked faster.

I sucked like my life depended on it. One of her hands stayed tightly laced with mine, grounding us, while the other wove through my hair with an aching tenderness.

Her head fell back and her eyelids fluttered shut. The most magnificent, blissful expression passed across her face, and I knew she was tipping over the edge.

My scalp burned as her fingers tightened in my hair, but it didn’t fucking matter. It was the best feeling in the world.

Her body jerked and trembled as she squeezed her thighs around my head. I lapped her sensitive sex as shudders rolled down her naked body.

She came with a broken whimper, her body writhing in the grip of ecstasy.

Every muscle tensed, then melted, each breath caught between pleasure and release.

I watched her unravel, luminous and wild, and in that moment, she was the most beautiful thing I had ever witnessed: raw, sacred, utterly unguarded.