Haze (The Fosters of New York 2) - Page 68

. He moans slightly. It's so soft that if there was any rustling in the room beyond the movement of his shirt as he reaches forward, I'd miss it. It would be lost.

My eyes close, heavy with both want and need. I listen more intently. I hear his shoes as they shift on the hardwood floors, the sound of my labored breathing woven into the steady and increasing beats of my heart.

I scream when the leather slaps my left nipple, not once, not twice, but again and again.

His lips are on me then, his breath in my mouth, his tongue on mine. "I adore you, Isla. I adore you."

I nod again. This time, knowing that if I tried to speak it would be a twisted mess of emotions I'm not ready to share.

I feel the soft touch of his hand on my hip as he pushes me to my side. I help, sliding my body over, my wrists still cuffed above my head.

The leather glides down my skin, stopping at the top of my ass. He circles it over and over again in the center of my back. The sensation hypnotic, relaxing, so calming.

"Gabriel," I whisper his name against my lips as I open my eyes. He's behind me. I can see the faint movement of his shirt as his forearm circles into view again, and then again, and yet again.

I moan when the leather inches down across my ass, circling a small space. I push back when it slaps me, my body craving more. I rub my thighs together, desperate for anything that will stimulate my clit enough for me to get off.

He growls his disapproval, approval, something into the air as the leather slaps me again, time and again.

I'm on my back now, the crop being pulled along my belly to the place that I crave. He inches my legs apart with the tip. I acquiesce, letting my thighs drop to the bed.

The leather glides over my folds slowly; it's so painfully slow that I whimper aloud as I close my eyes. "I want to come."

"You will."

It's right then that he gives me what I want. The harsh and tight leather circles that spot. He hones in on my clit and I lift my hips from the bed as he touches me, in the most intimate way, with a small piece of leather and only his words.

"Your cunt is so beautiful. I love the way it tastes. I love the way you grip my cock when you come. I'm going to fuck you so hard."

"Please, Gabriel," I beg for release. I want the sting of the pain. I want to know what it's like to feel that.

It moves and I scream out of sheer desperation. My reward is a sharp snap of the leather against my inner thigh and then another and then just as I open my eyes, I feel his weight on the bed. Everything shifts; each sound becomes louder, each fragrance stronger, my body's own need to come is all that I can feel and think about.

I watch as he pulls a condom from his pocket before he sheaths his thick cock. He leans forward, pulling his shirttails out of the way as he pushes into me balls deep, pulling my right leg up into his arm. The sensation is so intense that I weep as I arch my ass of the bed.

"So fucking good." The words spill from his lips into mine as he kisses me hard, fucking me even harder. I come fast. It's so fast that it spurs him on even more.

"I will never get enough of this." The words fall from his lips as he grinds himself into me. "I will never get enough of you."

I kiss him, wanting everything he can give to me and when his body shakes as he comes, only one word fills the room. Isla. Isla. Isla.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Gabriel

I open my eyes, immediately aware that I've slept in a bed that doesn’t belong to me. I'm also instantly, and gratefully aware, that Isla is next to me. I feel her lush body pressed against mine. The curve of her ass is visible when I glance down.

I'd fucked her twice. Once when she was cuffed to the bed and then again hours later after she'd taken my cock between her lips. She was on her knees on the floor next to the bed, the soft collar still wrapped around her neck as she swallowed every inch of my cock, urging me to come in her mouth.

I wanted it. I fucking wanted it so badly but I wanted to be inside her more and when I guided her back onto my lap, she'd hesitated. I knew what it meant. I was ready. I motioned for her to grab the condom I'd pulled out of the pocket of my pants.

She'd sheathed me herself, taking care to cover me tenderly, before she inched back into my lap and lowered her slick cunt over me. It was incredible, the angle, the sensations, the sight of her tits bouncing as she rode me hard.

Her lips were swollen, her body misted and when she came that time, she'd cursed. The words driving me mad, mad enough to circle her waist with my arm so I could drive my cock up and inside of her until I came. I'd dropped onto my back then, pulling her with me.

She's ruined me. I felt it for weeks now. I've ignored it all but now I feel it in every part of me. I'll never get over this.

"We haven't had dinner." She pushes her back into my chest. "Are you hungry, Gabriel?"

Tags: Deborah Bladon The Fosters of New York Romance
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