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Abduction (A Psychic Romance Novella Series)

Page 7

by Ladd, Larissa


  “Ah, Gabrielle,” Dustin said, half-moaning as he tilted his head to the side, giving her better access. She smiled against his skin, reveling in the tempo of his desire. She couldn’t hear his actual thoughts, but the feeling of his intense lust was as plain as her own arousal in her mind. She ran her hands over the planes of his back, along his chest, feeling the contrast between his surprisingly velvety-feeling skin and crisp chest hair.

  Gabrielle moaned as Dustin’s knee came up between her legs, pressing against her and rubbing slowly. He pushed her head aside and took full control once more, and Gabrielle realized after a moment—tensing against the sudden sensation of being held down by multiple hands—that he was using his telekinesis to keep her where he wanted, even as he brushed his lips just underneath her ear, kissing and licking her neck teasingly. Somehow, the use of his ability was not nearly as frustrating when the intent was to give her even more pleasure.

  Dustin slipped his hands down her body, to the waistband of her jeans. Gabrielle realized that Dustin was holding himself up telekinetically, at the same time that he held her in place, leaving his hands free to undress her, to touch her all over. She laughed, and Dustin glanced up at her face, pulling back and smiling faintly.

  “Your ability comes in handy, it seems,” she said, squirming slightly underneath him. His hold on her wasn’t as firm, as restrictive as when he’d stopped her in her tracks the previous two times. It was gentle, almost comforting. Dustin chuckled, bringing his lips down on hers again softly.

  “It has certain perks.” He was unbuttoning his jeans and unzipping her fly, pulling them down over her hips. The panties that Gabrielle was wearing were lace. As Dustin stripped her pants off, she felt completely exposed to his gaze, vulnerable in a way she hadn’t expected. His eyes drank her in, darkening with desire, and Gabrielle felt herself blushing under his scrutiny, as hot and lurid as his gaze was. He reached out and caressed the edges of a tattoo on her right hip: a magnolia with petals fully unfurled, at the peak of its bloom.

  “This is beautiful,” he murmured, staring at it for a long moment. His callused fingertips traced the outline, tickling against Gabrielle’s sensitive skin. The creamy white of the petals had been the triumph of one of Gabrielle’s friends—a client, in fact, who had given her the ink in return for her help in finding out who was scamming him at his shop. Gabrielle had always been proud of the tattoo, in spite of the fact that she had purposely gotten it in a place where it would remain hidden most of the time.

  “Hey,” Gabrielle said, feeling uncomfortable under Dustin’s close scrutiny. “It’s not fair for you to be less naked than I am.” She grinned up at him, finding herself free of his telekinetic restraint from his absorption in her tattoo. She had an idea—a mischievous one. Dustin raised a dark eyebrow, picking himself up off of her and standing near the couch. He unbuckled his belt, and Gabrielle took advantage of her moment. She sprung up, rolling onto her feet and darted toward the bedrooms, throwing a glance at him over her shoulder. Dustin laughed, leaving his pants unbuttoned and unzipped but still on as he chased her through the small house, stopping her with his ability as she reached the bedroom door. He held her frozen, taking the last few steps at a deliberate walk, smirking at his triumph.

  “Woman, you are impossible,” he murmured, closing the last distance between them and kissing her hungrily. She was still frozen as he caressed her all over, lingering at her breasts and her hips. Dustin pulled back slightly, holding her in place with his ability as he stripped off his jeans, standing before her in his boxers. Gabrielle took in his lean, slightly muscular physique, burning with curiosity, with the need to see even more of him. She suddenly wanted nothing more than to have hours—days—at her disposal to explore every inch of him. Gabrielle smiled as she sensed the reciprocal feeling in Dustin. She got a flash of his mind—an image, very briefly—of his desire to touch her everywhere, to taste and feel every part of her body.

  “Your bedroom or mine?” he asked, grinning broadly.

  Gabrielle laughed.

  “We could take turns.” Dustin nodded quickly, and reached out, picking her up; Gabrielle was surprised at how strong he was. She had thought somehow that, being telekinetic, he wouldn’t be motivated to build his body up. And the muscling she saw on his arms and legs, across his chest, wasn’t buff or burly—it was tight and lean. Dustin pulled her up into his arms, and Gabrielle could feel his concentration as he opened his bedroom door telekinetically, carrying her into the room. He somehow managed to turn on the light and brought her directly to the bed, laying her down on it gently. He pinned her against the mattress, rocking his hips up against hers, letting her feel his desire physically as well as mentally.

  “I so shouldn’t be doing this,” he said with a chuckle. “There are rules, you know.” He leaned in and nipped at her throat playfully, his hands running all over her body slowly.

  Dustin dragged his lips back up to Gabrielle’s and kissed her slowly, deeply, probing her mouth with his tongue as if he wanted to memorize the taste of her. In a matter of moments, Gabrielle was breathless. She wrapped her arms and legs around Dustin, pushing her hips down against the rocking of his pelvis.

  “You don’t strike me as much of one for rules,” Gabrielle said when Dustin broke away from the kiss, trailing his lips down her body to lavish attention to the tops of her breasts.

  “Only when they suit me,” he murmured, his eyes flashing up at her as he smiled slightly.

  Gabrielle’s hands shook unless she was holding him very tightly. She pulled his face up to hers to kiss him quickly, pressing her body against his. They moved together, barely separated by the thin fabric of their underwear, the friction between them delicious and frustrating all at once.

  “I need you,” Dustin murmured against her lips, touching and teasing her until Gabrielle thought that she couldn’t take a moment more of it.

  “You have no idea how much I need you right now.” Gabrielle chuckled lowly, nipping at Dustin’s neck, following her teeth with her lips and tongue.

  “I have a pretty good idea, actually.”

  She was slowly losing her ability to keep her feelings separated in her own mind from the feelings that Dustin was letting her read from him. Everything was desire, sensation, emotion. Gabrielle couldn’t even remember where she was, why she was there—nothing was more important than more contact between her body and Dustin’s.

  Gabrielle reached down and tugged ineffectually at the waistband of his boxers, pushing her hips down. “I need you, too,” she murmured. Dustin hooked his fingers in the elastic of her panties.

  “Ask and you shall receive,” he whispered, smiling down at her.

  Chapter Nine

  Gabrielle woke up gradually, aware of the deep stillness that surrounded her. For a moment, she was disoriented by her unfamiliar surroundings; she had been dreaming of work, and expected to find herself in her own bed, in her apartment, about to start another day. Even her home, shielded as it was from the thoughts of her neighbors, was never quite so silent. She felt a distant throbbing ache in her hand, as well—unusual enough.

  Blinking a few times in the early morning light, she remembered everything in a flash—and realized to her chagrin that Dustin was not in bed next to her. She couldn’t hear his mind nearby. He could be anywhere.

  Gabrielle sat up, feeling the soreness in her hips—a sweet soreness that for a moment she could enjoy. But the reality and gravity of the situation weighed on her. What had she been thinking? She shook her head, looking out through the window at the dense woods that surrounded the house. She hadn’t been thinking.

  Gabrielle groaned, throwing herself back among the disarranged pillows and sighing at her poor decision. She didn’t regret the sex itself—it had been fantastic. Her mind brought up the lurid details in flashes of sensation and vision that turned her on in spite of herself. Dustin had proven to be as inventive and playful as she had suspected he would be.

  Gabrielle couldn’t
help but smile as a vivid memory of Dustin in the shower came to mind. For hours, they hadn’t been able to keep their hands off of each other—nor other parts of their bodies. By the time that Gabrielle had finally been so satisfied, so utterly spent that she could do no more than curl up in her bed, they’d gone through a laundry list of positions, tasting each other all over, teasing and playing. Dustin had demonstrated over and over again the perks of sex with a telekinetic, holding her up with his hands free to tease her or pinning her to the bed to torment her with pleasure from his lips and tongue.

  In spite of how good it had been, Gabrielle had to acknowledge that it had been a mistake. She had no real reason to trust Dustin; even the little bit that he had opened up to her wasn’t enough to justify letting her guard down and telling him things about herself that she hadn’t told anyone—not even her much-vaunted telepathic grandmother.

  One of the things she had learned early was how to throw up her shields, to keep her mind from being read by other telepaths. Her grandmother had been pleased when she hadn’t been able to read her granddaughter; not just because of the progress that it implied in her control and development, but because, as she had said, “Everyone should have a little privacy in their own minds.”

  In between passionate embraces, as they caught their breath and recovered from the intense pleasure, Gabrielle had been drawn into the questions Dustin had asked about her. They had seemed idle curiosity at the time, but in the cold morning dawn Gabrielle could see them in a less than innocent light.

  He had gone into his assignment to track her and keep her from being abducted by the thugs that were after her with a good bit of information about her; now he had even more. It had been stupid of her to let herself be seduced by his good looks, by his charm.

  Gabrielle bit her lip as she thought. Most of what she had told him wasn’t materially useful, but she could think of situations where it would come in handy, potentially to his bosses. He could tell them about her abilities in much more depth than he might have otherwise been able. Dustin knew she suffered from mild social anxiety, from mild PTSD due to the incident involving her teacher. She had given him a handful of her vulnerabilities that he could pass along as he saw fit.

  “How could I have been so stupid?” she asked herself. She knew that he hadn’t done it purposefully. She had been able to read him enough to know that his desire for her was sincere. He had wanted her every bit as much as she had wanted him. He had reached climax over and over again, had held her tightly, and she had seen herself dimly through his eyes; he had heard her moans of pleasure through ears that wanted more and more of the noise. He had been entirely focused on her—never once thinking of anything or anyone else.

  It had been such a refreshing change from other men that she had gone to bed with, who always seemed to have something going on in the depths of their mind, worried about the rent or whether they would be able to catch the game, or even their jobs. For the whole time that she and Dustin were having sex, he was thinking of nothing but her—with a brief flicker of concern that his bosses would not be best pleased that he’d gotten physical with her, a worry that had dissolved utterly when she had kissed him.

  And now she had no idea where he was. Gabrielle realized that she was not going to go back to sleep in her state of mind, and tumbled out of bed, feeling the sweet soreness once more. She shook her head, refusing to indulge in the desire to continue reliving the moments from the night before, and opened her duffel bag, pulling out a set of pajamas. She slipped into them without bothering with underwear, rationalizing that Dustin had seen her naked—it wasn’t like he would be shocked by pajamas.

  Gabrielle opened her door and smelled fresh coffee. At least, she thought, he had to be relatively close. Padding through the hall, she followed the evocative fragrance and stepped into the kitchen. Dustin was sitting at the breakfast nook, looking at something on a tablet. For a moment, Gabrielle couldn’t do more than stare at him. He had put on pajama pants, but no shirt, and she was stricken by the quiet beauty of his bare chest, his muscled arms and his features drawn in concentration. She gave herself a shake, telling herself that she was surely not unwise enough to make the same mistake twice.

  She made a beeline for the coffee pot, trying to suppress the blush that came over her as her mind—without her wanting to—reminded her of a particularly interesting position they had managed to find themselves in; Dustin holding her from behind as they both laid on their sides, holding her leg up with his telekinesis as he teased her with his fingers even as they moved together. It had been so intense, so wonderful, that Gabrielle had climaxed twice, quickly, moaning out loud and writhing in Dustin’s arms.

  He had been whispering in her ear as he penetrated her body, telling her how gorgeous she was, how much he wanted to feel her climax for him again, how good she felt. It was strange to her now to think of how close she had felt to Dustin in a moment when they hadn’t even been facing each other, when she couldn’t even see him.

  “Good morning,” Dustin said behind her.

  Gabrielle almost spilled the coffee she was pouring into a mug that he had apparently left on the counter for her; the sugar bowl was conveniently close as well. He had thought of everything except the milk, she thought irrelevantly.

  “Hey,” she replied, feeling her heart pounding in her chest. She avoided looking at him as she rummaged in the fridge for cream, dosing her coffee and trying to regain her composure. She would have to just tell him that it had been a mistake, that she had been driven into his arms by fear and alcohol and her own need for something certain and comforting. It wasn’t the complete truth, but Gabrielle could see the truth in it partially.

  She bit her lip before taking a careful sip of the coffee; it was perfect. She wondered how possible it would be to avoid Dustin in the small house while they waited for his bosses to arrive—she didn’t think he’d let her take a nature hike to pass the time, certainly not alone. Did he think that the events of the night before were a mistake as well?

  Gabrielle sighed. She turned to face him and leaned back against the counter. Dustin was watching her intently, his tablet forgotten for the moment, whatever he had been reading on it.

  “What do you want for breakfast?” he asked her, his tone casual; his gaze on her was not—it was intent, interested. Gabrielle felt herself blushing again and tried to suppress the reflex. Her stomach was rumbling—it would be impossible for her to pretend as if she wasn’t hungry at all.

  “I’m not picky,” she said, avoiding eye contact with him. She almost jumped when Dustin stood, quickly crossing the floor to stand a few inches away. He reached out and tilted her face up, so that she couldn’t help but meet his gaze.

  “What happened?” he asked her, his bright eyes intense as he looked down into her face. “When we went to sleep, you were perfectly happy—at least, I thought so. You certainly seemed relaxed. You’re tense. Did you ‘hear’ someone?”

  “Last night was a mistake. I shouldn’t have—you shouldn’t have—last night was a bad idea.” Gabrielle shook her head slowly, biting her lip.

  Gabrielle took a deep breath, trying to form her thoughts. Dustin was utterly distracting. She could smell his skin, his cologne and soap—vaguely citrusy, an undercurrent like fresh leaves crushed in her hand. The smell of him was enough to make her heart beat a little faster, to make her body heat up with quick arousal.

  “I still don’t have any idea who you’re working for, I don’t know what’s going to happen, and I shouldn’t have let my guard down. It was … I was scared and tipsy and you—you’re so good-looking, and when you’re not acting like a total asshole, you’re charming…”

  Gabrielle’s voice trailed off, and Dustin was smiling slightly. He leaned in and brushed his lips across hers, sending an electric jolt of need through Gabrielle’s body.

  “It was a bad decision, but it wasn’t a mistake. The two aren’t mutually inclusive, you know.” His voice was low, his faint accent care
ssing. “I’ve never had better sex in my life, and while I’m no telepath, I am pretty sure you were enjoying yourself, too.” Dustin kissed her quickly, his hands dropping to her waist, drawing her close.

  It was all too easy for Gabrielle to remember how good it had been, how much pleasure Dustin had given her over and over again. He tasted of coffee, sweet and bitter and rich all at once, and Gabrielle found herself wrapping her arms around his broad, lean shoulders without thinking. Dustin lifted her up onto the edge of the counter, their hips flush together.

  “I couldn’t have stopped myself unless you’d told me no,” he whispered, his lips moving to claim her earlobe. “Whatever else might happen—whatever decisions you have to make—last night was right, and you know it.”

  Gabrielle was shaking. It was becoming increasingly difficult for her to remember, to keep in mind that she didn’t know him—had no real reason to trust him, more importantly. And, that she needed to keep some objectivity.

  “It was amazing sex,” Gabrielle admitted, tilting her head back and to the side as Dustin’s lips found her throat. “But it was a bad idea. We have to … we can’t … stop it, Dustin!”

  His hands were kneading her flesh slowly, his lips and teeth tantalizing her. Gabrielle felt as though her nerves were buzzing, humming with electric fire. She knew only too well how good it would feel to submerge herself in Dustin’s skill once more, to let him take the lead as he had the night before. It had been amazing, in part because Gabrielle was used to being “in charge” of the sex she’d had with other partners. Dustin had no need to ask her if he was doing something right, didn’t seem to ever doubt his own prowess. If part of Gabrielle felt a little jealous of the experience his skill spoke of, the rest of her was only too glad to benefit.

  Dustin brought his lips up to hers, barely brushing against her. “Do you really want me to stop, or are you afraid of losing control of the situation?”

 

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