Gabriel's Rapture

Julia gathered her lingerie from her luggage and disappeared into the bathroom. When she went shopping for something to wear on their wedding night, she had been intimidated. She was unsure what to choose that he hadn’t seen before.

 

In a tiny shop on Newbury Street, she had found exactly what she was looking for—a long Merlot colored silk gown with a low neckline. But its crowning glory was the crisscrossing laces in the back, which plunged to an almost indecent level. She chose the gown knowing that he would delight in undoing her. In more ways than one.

 

She left her hair up and she swiped at her lips with a hint of sheer gloss before stepping into the black stilettos she’d purchased for their honeymoon. Then she opened the bathroom door.

 

Gabriel was waiting.

 

The master bedroom was bathed in candlelight, scented with sandalwood, and Julia could hear soft music playing. It was a different playlist than they’d enjoyed before, but she liked it nonetheless.

 

He approached her in his white shirt and dress pants, his shirt untucked and unbuttoned almost to his waist, his feet bare. He held his hand out, and she joined him, winding her arms around his back.

 

“You’re exquisite,” he whispered, his hands almost trembling as they traced the bareness of skin that peeked through her laces. “I’d almost forgotten how lovely you are by candlelight. Almost, but not quite.”

 

She smiled against his chest.

 

“May I?” He fingered her pinned up hair, and she nodded.

 

A lesser man would have taken out the hairpins all at once, if he could have found them, freeing the strands quickly so he could move on to something else. But Gabriel was not a lesser man.

 

Painstakingly, he combed his long fingers through her hair until he alighted on a hairpin and then he gently undid it, letting down a single curl. He repeated this procedure until Julia’s hair fell like waves against her pale shoulders and her body was alive with want.

 

He cupped her cheeks and looked deeply into her eyes. “Tell me what you desire. The night is yours. I’m yours to command.”

 

“No commandments.” Julia tasted his lips twice. “Just show me that you love me.”

 

“Julianne, I love you with all four loves. But tonight is a celebration of eros.”

 

Gabriel plied her bare shoulders with urgent, heated kisses before standing behind her and stroking the exposed skin of her back. “Thank you for your gift.”

 

“My gift?”

 

“Your body, alluringly wrapped up just for me.” He paused as his eyes swept down to her feet. “And your shoes. Surely after such a long day, they must be uncomfortable.”

 

“I hadn’t noticed.”

 

He began to toy with the diamonds in her ears. “And why is that?”

 

“Because all I could think about was making love with you.”

 

“I’ve thought of almost nothing else for days. For months.” Gabriel inhaled sharply and began running his hands up and down her bare arms. “I’m the only man to see you naked in all your glory and to know the sounds you make when you’re pleasured. Your body recognizes me, Julianne. It knows my touch.”

 

Beginning at her lower back, he undid the bow, sliding the satin laces painstakingly through his fingers.

 

“Are you nervous?” Gabriel reached over to lift her chin to the side so he could see her profile.

 

“It’s been a while.”

 

“I’m going to take my time. The—ah—more vigorous activities will come later, after we’re sufficiently reacquainted.” He pointed his nose in the direction of a blank wall, and Julia felt her skin heat in anticipation.

 

He slowly pulled the laces open until her back was completely exposed. Then he placed the palms of his hands flat against her skin and began to skim them up and down.

 

“I burn for you. All these months I’ve waited, waited to take you to bed.”

 

He turned her so she was facing him and without ceremony pushed the straps of her nightgown down her arms. His eyes followed the sighing silk as it slid down her form before dropping to the floor.

 

She stood before him naked, her hands at her sides.

 

“Magnificent,” he breathed, his hungry eyes appraising every inch of her with painstaking slowness.

 

Not content to be the center of attention, she began to unbutton his shirt. She pushed it off his shoulders and pressed her mouth to his tattoo, nipping and kissing across his pectorals before making short work of his trousers.

 

Soon he was naked also, and she saw evidence of his arousal. He moved to kiss her, but she stopped him.

 

With eager fingers she began with his hair and explored his body, paying homage with fingertips and lips. His face, his mouth, his jaw, his shoulders, his sculpted chest and abdominal muscles. His arms and thighs and…

 

He caught her hand in his before she could wrap it around him, whispering sweet things against her mouth. Words of devotion in Italian that she recognized as coming from Dante’s pen. He picked her up and carried her to the large, canopied bed, where he seated her on the edge. Then he knelt on the floor in front of her.

 

“Where shall I begin?” he asked, his eyes slightly darkened as his hands traveled across her flat stomach and down her thighs. “Tell me.”

 

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