Diavolo Ch 03 - Sex Stories

Diavolo Ch 03

... Unable to resist, Gabriel spread his fingers over her throat softly, tipping her head up to his as he lowered his head to hers. “But I excite you. Don’t you like feeling excited like that?” Her only reply was to puff out a little breath. Her pulse hammered wildly at her throat. He could feel it beneath his fingertips. Hot color raced up into her face and her pupils grew wide. Fuck. She was as turned on as he was. He swept his lips over hers, learning their softness. He’d been too rough the first time, letting his anger rule him. Now, he wanted to savor her. Again, he let his lips brush over the petal softness of hers. She trembled and whimpered, her eyes fluttering closed as her lips parted. Gabriel slid his hand to the back of her head and gripped her hair lightly, pulling her head back and exposing her throat to him. He used his body to press her against the column, letting her feel what she did to him, how worked up he was for her. She stiffened and brought her hand up as if to push him away. He let his tongue slide into her mouth. She made a strangled surprise sound at the back of her throat. Gabriel stroked her tongue with his, coaxing it into play. She was shy, but it only made him hotter, made him gentle his efforts to coax her out of her shell. Her fingers tightened on his black Apocalyptica t-shirt and she began to respond. Holy-shit! His blood sang in his ears before pooling all in his groin. He throbbed like a sore tooth and felt uncomfortable. His other hand ...

... lowered from its perch at the dip of her waist to cup her sweet derriere. To his disappointment, she shot out of his embrace like a jumpy cat. “I’ll have you know, Mr. Raven, that I am not easy. So, I’ll thank you to please keep your hands in their appropriate place,” she snapped, gloriously riled. Such passion. She might be uptight now, but he’d be willing to bet his manhood once worked up, Abigail would be pure fire in bed…and he’d be the first to find out. Hell yeah! “And stop looking at me like that,” she demanded with a shaky voice. Gabriel quirked a brow at her. “Like how?” She cupped her throat, something he realized she did allot, especially when she was worked up and nervous. “I can almost see your perverse machinations in your eyes.” He grinned now, liking how she expressed herself, so refined and proper. He bit his lip feeling himself twitch in his pants. “It’s hard not to.” She frowned, as if confused, before her face smoothed to stoic endurance. “Nice try. Perhaps I pose a challenge to you, but that’s all I guess I am, and I’m not willing to sacrifice myself to appease some passing fancy for a playboy rock star!” Ouch. Gabriel frowned. “You don’t know the first thing about me, Pop Tart.” She bared her teeth at him, and he imagined her nipping him with those pearly whites. “Stop calling me Pop Tart! What does that even mean?” He laughed. That’s what his grandmother nick-named his eighth grade teacher. Miss Harper hated his refusal to cut his hair. Back then, it reached ...