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His mouth suddenly crashes down on mine once more, his tongue pressing past my teeth, his kiss demanding, angry. He’s pissed. At me. At himself, I think, and that’s what I want toknow. That’s the part of him I want to understand, I want to demand he show me.
“Get undressed,” he orders, setting me back from him, crossing his arms in front of that broad perfect chest of his.
My chin lifts in defiance, in refusal to allow him to intimidate me. Maybe he wants me to think he’s a monster like Kenneth. Maybe that should even piss me off but it doesn’t. It challenges me.
I pull my shirt over my head and toss it aside. “See?” I say. “Sometimes I even follow orders.” I unhook my bra, shrugging it away, exposing my naked breasts, the cold air puckering my nipples. “I must be very, very afraid of you.” I toe off my shoes and peel away my leggings, no panties to fret with. I’m not wearing any. Naked now but for socks, I’m not messing with, I close the small space between us and stand in front of him. “Or maybe I was right. You’re the one who’s afraid.”
He catches my hip and drags me to him. “You’re playing with fire.”
“Stop warning me away and pulling me back. Choose, Gabe. All in, remember? Or is that code for only if it’s me?”
His jaw clenches, his gaze lowering, raking over my naked breasts, and I can’t explain it, but I’m more naked right now, in this moment, with this man, than I’ve ever been before.
“All in, Abbie. That’s what you want? That’s what you’ll get.” He backs me up and presses my hands on the bar behind me and at my sides. He shackles my hips, and pulls me forward, forcing me to use them to hold myself up. “Keep your hands there,” he orders. “If you move them, I’ll punish you.”
Heat rushes through me but there is no fear. I don’t fear this man the way I feared Kenneth. I will never fear Gabe. I damn sure don’t fear the thick bulge of his erection pressing against my belly. “Punish me?” I challenge. “How would you punish me, Gabe?”
“You still haven’t been properly spanked, now have Abbie?”
“You spanked me, remember?”
“That was a love pat,remember?A spanking” he adds, most likely for effect, as he’s watching me with hooded eyes. “My hands on your pretty little ass. My cock buried inside you while I make it burn.”
His hand on my ass.
Spanking me.
His eyes lower to my mouth, linger with a promise of a kiss I crave but that doesn’t come, his gaze lifting with his own challenge. “Are you scared now?”
“If that’s the goal, it’s safe to say that you failed. I’m pretty sure what’s going on with me right now, can not be described as fear. Areyou scared?”
I expect him to laugh or balk but he doesn’t. He leans in close, his lips at my ear, “From the day I met you, baby. From the day I met you.” He pulls back to look at me, blue eyes lit up and like fires in a forest, they burn a path through me. “And you’re right. I am pushing you. Right here. Right now. Don’t move.”
He steps back from me, and obedience is easy this time. He undresses. I get to watch and watching Gabe get naked is a sight to see. He’s long. He’s lean. He’s all muscle and that tattoo. That lion tattoo on his arm means more to me every time I see it. It’s strength and family. It’s him, the real him, the man willing to fight to win. And his cock, well, he’s blessed in that department and so am I. His shaft juts forward, thick and heavily veined with arousal.
My teeth sink into my bottom lip, all this talking and watching about to undo me. I need him. I need him next to me. I need him touching me. I need him inside me. I just need him to touch me and thankfully he does. He pulls me forward, cups my ass, scrapes his teeth over the spot where mine had just been, nipping roughly.
I yelp and he cups my head. “Now for that spanking. You didn’t think I’d forget, did you?”
“You really do want to scare me, don’t you?”
He grips my hair, erotic and rough, and tugs my gaze to his. “No. I want to give you a reason to forget the fucked up parts of me. I want to make you feel more pleasure than you have ever felt in your life.”
“And your hand does that?”
“Are you willing to trust me and find out?”
I don’t even hesitate. “Yes.”
He doesn’t immediately reply, as if he’s weighing my response, as if he’s thinking about his. “I need to know that you were never abused sexually, Abbie. I need to know this really is pleasure for you, a game we play and enjoy together. Not a trigger.”
That he stops in the middle of the emotions and physical push and pull between us and asks me this is everything. “Nothing is a trigger with you.”
“Did he ever—”
“No. Sex wasn’t his thing. He got off on fear, real fear. Not the emotional baggage kind of fear we’ve been talking about.”
His hand loosens in my hair, flattens on my head. “I would never hurt you. If you ever want to stop, just say stop.”
