Don’t throw my words back at me, he silently begged. “Don’t,” he groaned, tugging on her hair. He wanted her to continue. He wanted to feel her mouth on him again, but not like this, not like she owed him.
She sucked him deep, and his eyes rolled. His hips moved, his hands pushing and pulling her head as he found a rhythm. Wet, hot pleasure washed over him.
He couldn’t think. He could barely speak—much less breathe.
The head of his c**k hit the back of her throat and he went over the edge, groaning her name and hating himself as clarity returned. Shame washed over him as she stood, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, not at what she had done, but for the reason behind it. A reason he didn’t know, but he did know it couldn’t be because she loved him and wanted to give him pleasure.
“I don’t expect you to perform for me,” he said, adjusting his pants.
Her brown eye turned hard and cold, after days of warmth residing there, and he wanted to shout and curse at his own weak flesh. “What do you expect?”
He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “For you to talk to me.”
“I have nothing to say.”
“Then at least share why you decided to—”
“Give you a blow job?”
His jaw turned hard. “Why do you have to do this? Why do you take something that was amazing and special and make it sordid and—”
“Not sordid.” She rolled her eyes. “Yet another s-word I need to learn, like sinning.” She cupped her br**sts. “Was it a sin when you sucked on these?”
Her hands left her br**sts, to tiptoe down her flat stomach, and slide between her legs. “Was it sinful to touch me here, to lick me, and shove your dick inside of me?”
He grabbed her wrist. “Stop it, before you say something that you’ll regret.”
“I already regret what I said to you,” she shouted. “I regret marrying you, and the faster you regret marrying me the better.”
“Because.” Her lower lip trembled, and the hardness in her eyes glistened, like slick ice. “It just is.”
He wanted to argue with her some more. He wanted to explain all the reason why it was the best decision either of them had ever made when it came to their relationship.
“I won’t regret it. No matter how hard and far you push me away, I’ll keep coming back. No matter how silent you become, I’ll keep talking.” He shook his head. “I’ve let you lead this relationship for too long, and I’m done.”
Her eyes widened. “You are?”
“Hell, yes.” Then he picked her up in his arms and carried her back inside, striding to the bedroom and placing her in the middle of the bed. He didn’t stop touching her, didn’t stop kissing her, until he was hard again, and she was begging for him to make love to her, begging him to let her come.
Finally, he thrust deep inside of her, groaning her name.
“Please, please,” she cried out, writhing beneath him, but he kept the roll of his hips steady. “Faster.”
“No.” He dipped his head, licking her nipple, and then giving the other some attention until they were hard, greedy little points. “Say it after me—divorce isn’t an option.”
She stopped moving long enough to give him an evil glare. “Divorce isn’t an option… it’s a necessity.”
Cursing under his breath, he pulled out of her and flipped her on her stomach, getting into position behind her. When she didn’t line up properly for him, he improvised and shoved a pillow under her hips, before giving her enticing little bottom a smack. She squealed and tried to get up, but he held her in place with one hand and smacked her there again.
Her legs widened, giving him an extremely nice view of her wet folds, all pink and waiting for him to fill her up again. Grabbing his cock, he eased it inside of her, pausing to give her time to adjust. “How’s that?”
“I won’t say it.” There was a little hitch in her voice.
Exhaling, he closed his eyes. “You don’t have to.”
“Angel,” she said tentatively.
He didn’t want to answer her. All he wanted was for her to agree, and for them to make love like nothing was wrong between them. But he did anyway.
“I’m still here.” The snug feel of her made his eyes water. He couldn’t help it.
“Order me to tell you to move.”
His eyes flew open. “What?”
“Please,” she said. “I can’t…”
Their damnable pride. That’s what had brought them to this point, and yet, here she was, asking for his help. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want…” He slid the smallest of distances and she moaned. “That. I want that.”
He gripped her hips, pulling out and thrusting inside of again. “This?”
In and out, he thrust inside of her, every slide, every roll of his hips, encourage by her reverent yeses and pleas for more. His heart pounded, and their skin grew slick. Bead of sweat rolled down his back, but there was no way he’d come before her.
Slipping a hand under her body, he cupped her and made her sit back on him, sliding his fingers to where they were joined. She tightened around him, her br**sts bouncing as she moved.
Her head fell back. She turned slightly to kiss him. He fastened his mouth to hers and drove deep. She cried out and he joined her, growling like some animal.
But none of that mattered, because she was weeping in his arms and he was pulling out of her, turning her to face him, and kissing her tears away.
There were no need for words, no need for questions. Only comfort, only love, and he had it all to give her, even if she still believed she didn’t deserve it.
Gabriel pulled a shirt over his head. “I have to go into town tonight. There’s an emergency with one of my clients.”
Summer sat up in bed, arms wrapped around her legs. “Does that happen a lot?”
“No, but this kid in particular is extremely stubborn.” He sat down in a chair and began to lace up a pair of sneakers. “She keeps running away from her uncle’s home, and the law keeps finding and bringing her back.”
“Maybe she doesn’t belong there.”
“She doesn’t have a choice,” he said with a grunt.
“What if her uncle is hurting him?”
Gabriel pinned her with a look. “Not all men are like Patrick Johnson.”