Closer

by Kaia Bennett

  "Gabriel... back there with Meredith," she started to ask when she could form words around the lump in her throat. "Why did we really leav—”

  She was silenced by him pulling her close and covering her mouth with his, his tongue swirling against hers as if he were trying to devour the taste of her. Part of her was wondering what the hell had gotten into him, why he was cutting off her question. Had he known what she was going to ask? Was he avoiding the answer?

  The other part of her was moaning, lifting her face to his and kissing him back until she was breathless and shaking. He pulled away, and when her eyes fluttered open his eyes were roaming over her face. That evil smile was coming out, and she brought her fingers up to trace his full lips, stroking down to the dimple in his chin before letting her shaking fingers drop.

  "We have unfinished business, you little tease. That's why we left. I promised to fuck the hell out of you, and I don't feel like wasting any more time." His smile broadened and he swiped his thumb over her full bottom lip. "Any other questions?"

  She shook her head.

  "Good," he whispered, tilting her chin up so he could lick and nibble at her trembling bottom lip. Then he turned to the street, his attention back to hailing a cab, and soon one pulled up and they hurried inside.

  Internally, Gabriel breathed a sigh of relief as they settled in for the ride back to her apartment. She didn't ask him any more questions, and for that he was thankful. She must have been wondering if something was up with him, the way he acted more openly possessive with her towards the end of the night, and how ready he was to get out of there. Most of that was because he really couldn't wait to get Nicole naked.

  But the other part, the part he would never be able to ignore because he truly did have a conscience, was whispering just under the surface of his happiness and arousal.

  You should tell her. She deserves to know...

  He swallowed hard, cleared his throat.

  “Nicole—”

  Caught up in seducing him, she apparently didn’t hear the tremor of doubt in his voice. Easily mistaken for a moan, his voiced dissolved within a kiss. She stroked her fingers over his face and through his hair. She was making it hard to breathe, hard to think, and he welcomed the loss of control she brought out in him. She changed his mind and he sank into her kiss, pushing away the niggling voice of doubt that told him he should be straight with her. He should tell her about Meredith. She did have a right to know.

  Not tonight, he told that voice. Later.

  I'll tell her later...

  Chapter 6

  Gabe sat up on his elbows, letting his fingers brush down the soft arc of Nicole's spine while she slept. Her face was tucked into the bend of her arm and muffling her steady breaths. The curve of her breast and the silky skin of her side caught his eye as his fingers continued to travel, playing with the dimples at her lower back where the sheets pooled around her hips. The only movement was the slight rise and fall of her back, and the occasional flicker of her eyelashes while she dreamt.

  It had been a couple of weeks since Thanksgiving. Christmas was fast approaching, and in the time since he'd been home, he'd spent the majority of it either in the studio, hanging with the guys, or wrapped up in Nicole's arms. It was just like the week over a year ago that had started this whole crazy mess.

  The truth of that thought hit him like a punch to the gut and he stilled his fingers over her. Somehow all the time apart didn’t mean a thing. They’d found their way back to the beginning. It made him scared, but it also made him smile. Not since he’d stepped out on a stage in front of people, not since he’d discovered music, had he found something that made fear feel like an invitation instead of a deterrent.

  Times like this he was glad she was a deep sleeper, so he could actually look at her for as long as he wanted. But he couldn’t stop thinking about the first time, her sleeping fitfully on the couch that summer, murmuring his name and waking him up to this power she had over him. Waking him up to this need, before he woke her up with his mouth on her. He swallowed as a strange spike of panic hit him. He stared down at her and tried to tell himself he didn’t need to wake her. There was time now. When she woke up she wouldn’t be leaving for another state, another life. When he left her place he wouldn’t be leaving her behind, leaving for a tour, another life. They had a pocket of time.

  But it was borrowed time. She wasn’t his, he wasn’t hers. They’d said it was better this way. He could touch her, have her for a little while, but looking too far forward was nothing but trouble. He should look only at this moment, only at her.

  He did and his gaze was ravenous, his fingers twitched with greedy intentions. Looking only made him want to touch. Every passing moment he spent with her made him feel like there was another ticking clock in the background. He didn’t want to hear that right now. He just wanted to hear her calling his name.

  Her dark hair was a glossy, silken contrast to the creamy brown of her soft skin, and it still smelled like lilacs. He fingered a few strands lightly before letting them settle against her shoulders again. Every part of her smelled, felt, and tasted so good, and he was hungry for more.

  He licked his lips, leaned down, and placed a tender kiss on her shoulder. He stayed there, his eyes closed as her skin continued to call to him. His lips traveled lower, and soon his hand was following suit and drinking in the texture of her skin. He leaned over her slightly so his lips could trace the lines and contours he’d memorized by heart. He swept her hair away from her neck, placing another kiss there. She moaned, her breath stuttering slightly.

  It made him smile. It made him give up the ghost of being kind and letting her sleep. It was too much to resist the response his body was having to hers and the power she had over him, even when she was doing nothing but breathing. Maybe he was a dick. Maybe that was what he had to reconcile with himself, the truth of his nature. Maybe he was done pretending he could live within the boundaries he set up to keep her safe from him.

  His fingers stroked along the small of her back, swirling gently. She stirred as if even while unconscious she craved his caress. He hesitated for only a second before he slipped his hand under the sheet and stroked her round, firm ass. Her arm slid down the pillow a bit and her nose and upper lip were revealed. Her lips were parted and her brow was lightly furrowed. She lazily pumped her hips against the bed and he knew that soon she would wake up. A part of him mourned that he wouldn't be able to watch her straddle the thin veil between dreams and consciousness.

  He became bolder, stroking more firmly with his middle finger. He never failed to be surprised by her reaction to him. She was asleep, but as he steadily stroked up and down she grew moist against his fingertip, her hips joining in with his movements until her pussy was moving against him in a smooth rhythm. He circled it around her dampening slit, the heat of her arousal calling to him, making him want to give her more. He fully impaled her on his finger, pressing it smoothly inside of her while watching her face.

  He heard Nicole’s breath halted on a soft inhale just before her eyes fluttered open. Her hips were bucking against his light strokes, her body racked with a shiver of pleasure.

  "Ahh... Gabriel…"

  "Good morning," he murmured in her ear.

  "Good... mmm... m-morning..."

  He laughed, nipping at her shoulder with the blunt edges of his teeth.

  "I'm glad I woke you." He slid over her so he was lying against her back, "I couldn't wait any longer to be inside you..."

  She gasped, parting her legs as his hips positioned themselves against her ass. She was already hot and ready for him. He marveled at how he never ceased to have that effect on her, no matter the time of day. His hard cock was nestled between her cheeks, pumping slowly back and forth. She turned her face slightly so she could see him out of the corner of her eye, gripping the pillow in anticipation of feeling him stretch her open. He lowered his hips, so the head of his cock was rubbing against the wet lips of her pussy, smearing h
er juices over them while he lovingly ran his hand over her back. She lifted her hips in answer to the probing pumps of his, and his hand slid down between their bodies to aid him in entering her. He slid in slowly, giving her time to adjust to him. He leaned his weight on one of his elbows so the other hand was free to move her hair aside. She sighed and closed her eyes as his lips touched her neck, and the first of his shallow strokes began.

  "Fuck, little girl. Always so tight, so wet for me... like it belongs to me…"

  He heard her suck in a sharp breath. It felt so good, his movements so slow and precise he could feel every silky ridge, every accommodating inch of her stretching to surround him. She curved her ass, her back, every part of her arching up to meet him as he shuddered and buried himself deeper.

  “It does…belong to you…”

  He stilled within her, his heartbeat thumping in his ears.

  She belonged to him.

  Just the thought of it made everything click into place for him. He wanted to hear those words from her lips again. He pulled out, shoved back in. The sounds he could wrench from her…

  “Sounds like that feels good.”

  She nibbled on the skin of his forearm, the sharp pinch of pain spiking his arousal.

  "You always feel good... nothing ever... f-feels as good as y-you do..." she whispered.

  He was dangerously close to feelings he never wanted to feel again, feelings he couldn’t trust himself to feel. He shouldn’t want this, but he did. He shouldn’t make her say it again, but he would.

  Gabriel rolled his hips with strong measured thrusts, groaning and closing his eyes as her body clenched around him. He leaned down, his hands fisting in the sheets, while his temple rested against hers. He felt frenzied, like he was unraveling. Weak with need, with lust and something he didn’t want to define, he whispered, “You’re mine, isn’t that right? My perfect little slut.” He was thrusting faster now, harder. Punctuating each word with a feverish need that came out like a dominant growl. “Isn’t. That. Right?”

  Sweat-sheened and flooded with heat, he couldn’t get over the way hearing those words made him feel. Each thrust was a demand, a plea. She was his, wasn’t she? She wanted to be his.

  “Yours,” she moaned back. No hesitation, just raw unadulterated need to match his own.

  His lips found her cheek, and the soft whisper of his name on her lips made him harder and hungrier for her. He had to halt his thrusts to keep from coming too soon. The weight of her words and the sweet welcoming flesh between her thighs were almost too much for him to take, and in that moment he felt he was overwhelmed with something like preemptive sadness. What would he do if he ever lost this feeling?

  "Gabriel... Gabriel, p-please,” Nicole whimpered, drawing him out of his thoughts and back into the pleasure she gave him. “Please keep going."

  "I'm not gonna stop, Nic. I'm gonna give you what you want."

  He thrust faster, not quite hard, but the strokes were strong and full. He slid in as far as he could go, curving his pelvis into her round ass so he could get that extra inch of slick heat coating his cock. In response, her hips made tight circles to get more friction. Little mewls and moans and pants filled the air, making him nibble firmly at her ear, her neck, and any inch of skin he could reach. It was her body telling him what he already knew, but loved to hear her admit out loud.

  “You’re mine.”

  “Yes! I’m yours! I’m your dirty girl. I’m yours!”

  Just a subtle swivel of her hips let him know she was ready for more. He hissed dirty words against her skin while she cried out for him.

  He sat back on his knees, tugged her hips off the bed and drove himself into her with more force. Her cry was sharp and cracked at the end, her pussy pulsing around his cock as his hips smacked against her. Sharp, deliberate, and slow thrusts met hers as she drove her hips back on him. His grip tightened on the indent of her waist, his palms cupping the slope of her full hips as he plunged in again, hitting deep and rolling his hips at the end for good measure. He saw her fingers curled in the sheets, gripping them just like they had when he caught her on his bed. Past mingled with the present. That girl and this one, both of them his.

  The smack of his hips against her ass grew sharper and the time between the sounds grew shorter and shorter. He watched her head dip forward and relished the sound of her squeal as he tugged her hips back hard and settled her on his cock. He ground his rock hard member against the pulsing walls of her pussy until she was whimpering.

  His cock had a mind of its own, pumping faster into her sopping core when she looked over her shoulder at him. She moaned and bit down on her lip. Her eyes were hooded and unfocused, but she didn't turn away. He wanted her full attention now, he wanted complete control. He smacked her ass, snapping her eyes open and then speared her faster still on his cock.

  His. Every moan, every scream, every drop of come.

  She wailed as he smacked her ass again, and then again.

  Mine…

  He grabbed onto a fistful of that dark, silky hair and tugged. Her ass hiked up even more, her back curving inward, and he drove in even deeper. He bent over her, still gripping her hair, but pumping steadily. He made sure he hit the same spot within her each time, eliciting high-pitched cries from her throat. He was setting her up for the finale.

  "That's it, dirty girl, I'm gonna make sure you scream nice and loud for me," he growled, still not relenting in his thrusts. "You ready to come, now?"

  "Fuck yeah!"

  He released her hair and brought his hand around to cup her neck, pulling her back so she was resting her head against his shoulder.

  "Grab the headboard," he commanded through gritted teeth. Even through his haze he wanted her to be braced, to be safe.

  Her shaking hands gripped sturdy wood, and no sooner had she latched on than he took up a brutal pace. His free hand roamed hungrily over her skin, the other gripping her throat tightly, squeezing just hard enough.

  "Fuck, ahhh, fuck!" he roared in her ear, alternating between squeezing each full breast. When he'd had his fill of massaging and tweaking those soft globes with their taut nipples, he stroked his hand down to the sweet triangle between her legs and began to strum her clit with all the precision he used for strumming his guitar.

  "Don't stop! Don't you dare! Fucking! Stop!" she choked out as she started to come.

  He was close, so close. He growled against her neck, swirling his fingers faster and faster over her clit and fucking her so hard he thought he'd get a cramp in his thigh if he kept it up. But he couldn't stop. Her arm came up to reach behind her and grip his shoulder, nails digging in while the other hand gripped the headboard. She screamed, her body seizing against his.

  "Ohhhhh, God!!!"

  He let go of her throat to grasp her around the waist and she collapsed forward, the sound of her nails scraping down the wood of her headboard accompanying their pants for breath. Sharp cries that sounded like sobs escaped her throat in time with the last of his strokes.

  He came down to rest on his hands, and then on his elbows over her, his arms shaking and his hips bucking involuntarily while the aftershocks had their way with him. When the last of them left his body, he stilled on top of her for a moment, his damp chest resting against her slick back. The rapid rise and fall of her body soothed him into steady breaths and he stroked his hand gently up and down her side.

  She seemed to melt into a fetal position, a hoarse cough escaping her throat followed by a raspy giggle. He laughed at that. It was her signature response to a job well done.

  He kissed along her neck, her ear, his fingertips sliding possessively over the closest stretch of bare skin. His hand came to rest on her shoulder, while his lips continued to brush against her ear. "Fuck, little girl. How do you always make it so good?"

  He gave her neck one more soft kiss and finally lifted himself off her. He fell to the side of her with a deep exhale, running his hand contentedly over his abs.

  Ga
briel glanced over at her and his heart stopped for a moment. He felt his parched lips spread to full capacity, his grin mirroring hers as she stretched herself out beside him. She wrapped her arm around him, pulling him to her body so that he turned onto his side and settled in for her light kisses. He fucking loved that, how she’d left all reservations and fears behind and just claimed affection when she wanted it. He could still remember how shy she’d been, how she wouldn’t touch him unless he pulled her close. There was no such distance now. Her fingers retraced the steps her mouth made, whispering along his jaw, his nose and lips, the indent of his chin. It was like she was ticking off all the features that belonged to her now.

  "Nicole..."

  The look in her eyes before he gave in to her deep kiss damn near broke his heart. She was so gorgeous, and it was so clear in her eyes that she wanted him and felt as strongly about him as he did about her. Her lips touched his and he felt himself sinking into the quicksand of her body's affect on him, her scent and her warmth overpowering him. He murmured her name against her lips again and again, so softly he could have been thinking it rather than saying it aloud for all he knew.

  When he finally ended the kiss and leaned his head against hers, he knew he needed to speak up and say what was on his mind. He couldn't keep going on like this, burying what was always in him, just under the surface. He couldn't keep hiding the truth. If she was his, then he was definitely hers. But did that extend beyond this bed? Was he ready for them to be more than this?

  "What are we doing, sweetheart?" he asked, rubbing his forehead against hers.

  "I think the kids are calling it 'fucking' these days," she giggled in a huskier voice than normal. The scrape of her bottom teeth against her upper lip and raised eyebrows made him smile.

  "No, that's not what I meant," he said, bypassing laughter for seriousness. "I mean you and me. What are we doing here?"