Letting her stay, knowing he had to respect her decision, felt like the most difficult thing he’d ever done.
Sara rolled over and scooted in beside him, her hand sliding across his chest, her leg entwining with his. Gabriel froze, the embrace unexpected, his defenses not adequately in place. She was next to him, touching him, and it felt so damn good. His arm automatically went around her back and he wanted her nestled up against him, but it was a very dangerous place for them to wander.
“Are you okay?” he asked her, wondering if she was scared and just needed reassurance.
“I’m okay.”
Her hand stroked across the waistband of his boxer briefs, making him grit his teeth at the kick of desire that nailed him in the groin. Maybe it was an absentminded touch on her part, but it was downright painful for him. An erection was already springing to life from her leg rubbing over his, and her fingers made the problem worse as they played along his abs, flipping his waistband down then back up. She obviously had no idea what she was doing to him.
“I want you, Gabriel,” she said, and her hand went lower, cupping his erection and stroking him through his briefs.
Fuck. Gabriel sucked in a breath and closed his eyes for a second, enjoying the hot rush of pleasure, the rapid swelling of his c**k beneath her fingers, before he forced himself to put his hand over hers and stop her. “Sara. Don’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because there’s nowhere to go with this. I can’t touch you. I won’t risk it.” He moved his hand away from hers now that she had stopped stroking him, and swallowed hard.
“Don’t you want to know?” she asked, propping up on her elbow to look at him, her hair falling onto his shoulder. “Don’t you want just one time between us to hold on to?”
“Of course I do.” That wasn’t the issue. “I want more than once. I want every night, with you beneath me. But we can’t. I won’t touch you, Sara. I won’t turn you into Jane or Molly or Rochelle.”
“Maybe I’m strong enough to be able to handle it.”
She had no idea how tempting what she was offering was. Gabriel lay as motionless as he possibly could, afraid to brush against her, afraid to inspire her hand to start up stroking again, afraid to breathe and catch a whiff of her scent, her shampoo, her femininity. “No, Sara.”
“You don’t have to touch me,” she said, a wicked smile spreading across her face. “I can do all the touching. Just one time, that’s all I’m asking for.”
And she brushed his hair off his face, her fingers trailing all the way down to the tips, her gaze following her touch. He shivered from the feel of her gentle and reverent caress as she pulled back and did it again, starting at his scalp and sliding her fingers down his overgrown hair.
“It’s so soft,” she whispered. “So beautiful.” Her gaze shifted to his lips, to his face. “You’re beautiful.”
“Men shouldn’t be beautiful.” But it was a token protest. He enjoyed that she thought he was attractive, was proud and pleased by the look of adoration on her face. She loved him and he wanted to hold that, take it inside him.
“You are beautiful. And I want you.”
“Take me.” His resistance was gone. He couldn’t deny her what they both wanted.
She pulled back slightly. “Do you mean it?”
He nodded, knowing what he had to do was damn near impossible, but unable to say no. “But I’m not going to touch any more than I have to. I want to protect you.”
Her eyes were wide, her mouth open, tongue darting out to wet her lips. “Okay. I’ll do all the work, I promise.”
It almost made him laugh, but his amusement was cut short by her hands roaming across his chest, exploring and scratching lightly, before descending down to the waistband of his briefs. Her fingers lingered there, wandering back and forth again, while her lips pressed onto his shoulder. Her mouth was warm, and she brushed her lips across his collar-bone on the right, then the left side, before sinking her teeth gently into the flesh of his shoulder. Gabriel closed his eyes and sighed. The scent of her filled his nostrils, the hot rush of her breath dancing over his flesh, the weight of her hip leaning against his, the smoothness of her leg massaging his calf.
She touched his arms, her index finger dipping into the bend of each of his elbows. Her mouth slid in alongside his cheek, perilously close to his lips, but she didn’t touch them. She brushed the stubble on his chin, traced the line of each cheekbone, ran her lips over his eyelashes, and buried her mouth and nose in his hair, her chest pressing against his, while he lay with his hands clenched at his sides, heart racing, palms sweating. Her touch was sweet and delicate and sensual, and he felt the appreciation, the wonder of her feelings for him, and he was humbled, satisfied, even as his body ached for her. It was worth the torment to have the feel of her fingers and her soft lips on him, and he watched her, the light from the hotel lamp casting shadows over her smooth skin.
Sitting up, she took her tank top off and Gabriel saw her bare br**sts for the first time, her ni**les taut and mere inches from his mouth. Her br**sts were small and high, proportioned for her petite frame, and her blond hair spilled over her shoulders. She had slight tan marks, but it looked like it was from her tanks instead of a bathing suit, and he wanted to run his finger over the white line of her skin, but he didn’t. Nor did he encircle her waist, her back, bury his lips in her neck, when she leaned forward and pressed the warmth of her chest against his, her ni**les brushing over him.
She sighed at impact, eyes momentarily fluttering shut. He groaned.
“I wish you weren’t so damn noble,” she said. “I wish you were cruel and heartless and were perfectly willing to risk my becoming enslaved . . . I wish you would touch me everywhere, with your fingers, your lips, your tongue.”
“No, you don’t,” he said. “You don’t really mean that.”
Sara peeled down his briefs, on her knees in front of him, and she glanced up at him over the length of his erection. “Right at this moment, yes, I absolutely do. I want you to be a total bastard and f**k me.”
Damn it. The vehemence of her words sent a burst of hot air from her lips straight onto his cock, and he gritted his teeth, dug his fingernails into his palms, released air slowly through his nostrils, fighting for control.
“But I would regret it long-term, I know that. You’re right.” Her hand closed around the head of his erection briefly before she pulled it away. “And I wouldn’t love you if you were a total bastard. Which I do.” She licked her fingers thoroughly, then returned to him, stroking lightly up and down, her saliva creating a smooth, slick motion. “I completely and utterly love you.”