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His gaze locks on my pussy as his fingers slide slowly in and out, his thumb working my clit.
I gasp in surprise as the pressure builds once more. This man is going to ruin me for all others at this rate. Professional, clinical. Clinical be damned. I give myself over to him, as my pussy clamps once more around his fingers.
“Perfect,” he says, grunting in satisfaction. “Lie still.” He pulls my skirt down over my exposed body, moving the chair to rest my feet on the arms before leaving the room. I lie staring at the ceiling, my brain incapable of rational thought, only the fact my boss of eight years has just had me screaming his apartment down, spread out on his dining room table. This time, I don’t think green lentils and tins of tomato are going to cut it.
Gabriel returns with another clean facecloth. I reach out to take it from him, but he taps my hand before stepping up to the table and flipping my skirt up. The air of the apartment is cool against my hot, damp core.
“Let me clean up the mess I made,” Gabriel says, his attention set on wiping me down gently. My swollen flesh is overstimulated and sensitive. When he’s finished, he throws the cloth to one side before picking up my panties and sliding them back up my legs, making me lift my bottom so he can slide them into place. Before I can sit up, he scoops me up in his arms, carrying me over to the sofa, where he lies me down.
“Movie?” he asks, when I remain silent, my brain unable to form a sentence.
“Great,” I croak out.
“I’ll make some popcorn.”
I watch Gabriel disappear and hear him moving around in the kitchen. I realise he’s clearing up dinner. The microwave pings, the smell of buttered popcorn invades my senses. He returns to the sofa, taking a seat at the other end, switching on a movie before pulling my feet into his lap. I lie back as he expertly massages my feet. I bite down on the moan that wants to escape. This man needs to package his hands. My eyes catch on the bracelet he gave me, realising that my ovulation period ends tomorrow. Why does my heart feel heavy at the prospect?
CHAPTER 29
GABRIEL
This time, when Leah’s period arrives, I’m not sure how to feel. I can see the devastation in her face, and my heart clenches at her pain.
“Maybe there’s a problem,” she says over dinner one evening.
“It’s still early days,” I say, trying to put her mind at rest. “But if you want, I can arrange for you to see someone. Get checked out.” I had my sperm count checked before I offered to be her sperm donor.
“Maybe,” she says, her hands clasped in her lap.
I place a hand over hers and squeeze. “I’m sure everything’s fine. It’s not an exact science what we’re doing.”
In my opinion, the chances of that working are low. She’s only utilised an ovulation kit and a thermometer before exposing herself to four samples of sperm. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking on my part. I still can’t get the feeling of Leah coming around my cock out of my head, her vice-like grip milking my dick.
I shift uncomfortably in my seat.
“I know,” she sighs. “Shall I order some more kits?” Her question surprises me.
My muscles tense.
“Is that what you want?” I ask. My dick protests at the thought.
Colour drifts up Leah’s neck. “No,” she says, her eyes on mine.
“Clinical sex it is then,” I say, a happy dance being done below my waist.
Leah’s colour deepens. She opens and then re-closes her mouth as if wanting to say something but holding back.
“Leah, whatever it is you want to say, just say it. I think we’re past polite talk.”
Her hand goes to the bracelet I bought her, running it through her fingers. “I was... I was thinking.” She bites her lip, drawing my gaze to its fullness.
“Leah,” I warn.
“I was wondering if we should have more sex. Whether twice a month isn’t enough,” she says in a rush of words. “I was reading.”
I grasp her hand in mine and softly squeeze, stopping her tirade in its tracks.
“It’s fine, I was thinking the same thing. But it needs to be your decision.”
