She held her hand up before her face, and Gabriel could feel her face twisting in confusion. “Right he—”
“Not that one.” His purr was supposed to be deliberate. Instead, it slipped out before he could force it out. “The other one.”
“B-Between my legs,” she stammered. “I didn’t want to accidentally flash you.”
“You’re already covered in water and tears. You might as well be wet everywhere. Rub your clit until you are.”
“W-Why?” Her breath stuttered out. Poor girl thought she needed a reason to come.
“Because as soon as you’re wet enough, you’re going to stick a finger into your honey and then suck on it so I know what you taste like. I’ve never been a huge fan of fruit, but ever since I met you, I’ve been craving cherries.”
She choked on a tiny whine, a jolt of surprised pleasure sizzling through her body. It echoed into his, and he felt his dick filling with blood as her fingers drifted down over the flat plane of her belly.
It broke him the way she always obeyed.
She skipped right past her little button, finding a warm, wet channel already waiting for her, as though his order had instantly sent a rush of nectar where she needed it. It dewed her thighs as she pushed a finger inside herself.
“Jesus Christ, that’s a good girl.” Gabriel didn’t even realise he was feeling for the heavy length of his own desire laying against his thigh. It was thickening with every little pant she caught in her throat.
“A-Are you …” She seemed to get shy, before pushing her fingers into her mouth.
Sweet, sticky cherry burst over his tongue.
“Fuck. Shit.” He gripped himself tightly, pumping once, the movement rough. “Am I what, Isobel?”
“Sure you might be asexual?” she burst out, her fingers falling out of her mouth.
He laughed, a weird spark of joy lighting inside him, the feeling so bright he couldn’t figure out if it had originated from him, or from her. “Fingers back in your pussy, brat.”
“I don’t usually do this,” she admitted breathlessly, her touches lazy, almost shy. “I mean I have done this, I just …”
“You’ve been too busy trying to survive,” he grumbled. “You forgot to live. Lucky for you, I prefer to take control. Touch your nipples, beautiful girl.”
“You never talk to me like this,” she gasped, her hips jerking at the reverence in his voice.
“Just this once, just while we’re alone,” he repeated his earlier sentiment.
She pinched one of those pretty little nipples. “I think you would be better at this than me.”
“I am doing this.” Gabriel's dick was wet before, but now he could feel his own excitement leaking from the tip, making the glide of his hand even smoother as he thought about her annoying teleporting side effect and how very convenient it would be if it activated at that moment. It was best this way, though. He wasn’t sure he would be able to keep his hands to himself with her cherry essence on his tongue and the knowledge of how smooth and soft her skin was in his mind.
“Are you sure you want to live without pain, Illy?”
“W-What?”
“Two fingers,” he grunted. “Now. Good. Good girl. Now three.”
Rein it in, asshole.
He could only have sex when he was in complete control of everything that happened, and sometimes he needed to push his partner, just to make doubly sure that he was still in control, that they would still obey his every command. But he wasn’t having sex with Isobel.
He was … shit, it was so much worse than sex.
He just wanted her to feel good for once.
“Tell me what feels nice.” He tried to temper the dominance wanting to rise up in his throat, to bark commands at her, to push and push and push until she cried again, because there was something not right in him, and he thought she sounded pretty when she was sniffling and calling him Gabe.
“I like your voice,” she whispered back. “It feels good.”
She was going to kill him.
Gabriel eased his hand from his throbbing length, stretching out his fingers as the need to drive into her until he had somewhere wet and warm to release into seized up in his spine.
He preferred to wear condoms, usually, and to tear them off at the last second so that he could come on his partner, instead of having it sticking to his own flesh.
This fantasy was a new one, and he wasn’t sure he liked it.
He needed to end this.
“Time to come,” he demanded, the harsh edge creeping back into his voice.
But she liked it. Of course she did. She liked when he took the pressure off her shoulders and demanded she make herself feel good. Her fingers slipped from her channel, rubbing over her clit, and she flinched as she pinched her nipple too hard, almost making him explode on himself.
“I told you to do something,” Gabriel said calmly. “So do it now, Illy.”
She let out a small whimper, her release flooding through her body in a strong wave that had him biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. The intense feeling must have somehow jerked him back to his own body, but he barely noticed.
He had intended to deny himself, but his hand was a magnet, drawn to the flesh that was already twitching, already exploding along with her. He couldn’t have held it back if he tried, and he thought he might have tried, but that was almost a distant memory, pushed aside as his thoughts filled with her taste, her breath, her scent, and the waves of her orgasm that pulsed through them both, leaving him with the violent aftershocks.
She swore quietly, the sound carrying through his phone speaker as he settled back into his body. Her next whimper was a nervous one. He stroked himself slowly, feeling his own release against his still-hard cock, too distracted to be grossed out by it.
“I think your chain is beautiful,” he said on an exhale.
I think you’re beautiful, he wanted to add, because she deserved pretty words and platitudes, but she deserved clear boundaries even more. There wasn’t going to be a romantic relationship between them.
There couldn’t be.
The Alphas were his family, and he had bet his entire life on what they were doing at Ironside.
One wrong step with Isobel was all they needed to collapse the whole foundation.
Isobel grew still, pain lacing away the gentle aftershocks that shivered through her body. She clutched her stomach, the empty cavernous feeling turning into a cyclone of horrible, sharp agony. When Theodore had touched her, it had helped … a lot.
Maybe Gabriel was right about this particular side effect … but if he had thought that sexual pleasure would help her, he was so wrong.
“You aren’t in my head anymore, are you?” she gritted.
“No.” His tone turned sharp with shock. “What happened? You sound like you’re in pain.”
“It’s worse,” she groaned.
He swore viciously. “I’m going to hang up so I can get some things together. Do you need help getting out of the shower?”
“No.” She stood up to prove it, but her knees immediately buckled as pain travelled like an electric shock through her limbs.
“That’s a yes, isn’t it?”