Obsession (7 page)

They ate dinner together, watching the snow drifting outside.
It looked like they were going to be snowed in the following day and they talked about winters past when the snow fall had been this extreme. Over dessert they moved on to discussing families and childhoods, before they eventually cleared the plates and settled before the fire. He surprised her by pulling out a board game and they played for a couple of hours, laughing at each other’s antics as they struggled to win. They were so evenly matched that they ended up eventually declaring a tie around half nine and Noelle reluctantly began putting the pieces away.

When she was done, he took the box and put it away in the drawer under the couch. “Are you sore after this morning?” He asked her, a direct look in his eyes that warned her to be honest.

“Not really, no.” Her heart was already beating faster. He could see the pulse flickering at the base of her throat.

“Do you want to play tonight?”

There was no question what he was talking about and she blushed prettily. “Yes.”

“Good. I have some things to put away in my music room. Do you trust me?”

A small crease appeared between the fine arches of her brows, but she nodded. “Yes.” It was more hesitant and breathy this time.

“Then go to the bedroom, take your clothes off and get on your hands and knees on the bed, with your knees close to the edge. I will come to you and
, when I do, I want you to be ready for me. I may come in five minutes, I may come in fifteen. I will expect you to be waiting for me. Do you think you can do that?” She was so startled, she just stared at him and he let some vulnerability bleed into his expression. “Please can you do this for me?” He asked softly and she nodded, her cheeks flaming scarlet.

“I can do that.”

“Then go. I’ll come when I’m done.”
When I’m ready...
were the unspoken words. She knew this was about how long she was prepared to wait for him in such a compromising position, but she knew he had issues and she wanted to make him happy.

She walked through to the bedroom, her legs feeling unsteady as the promise of impending animalism, raw and primal, sucked the air from her lungs in a mixture of fear, desire and shame. With shaking hands she removed her clothes and folded them neatly on the box at the end of the bed. Then she was torn...if she
assumed the position on his side of the bed, her rear end would be the first thing he saw when he walked in. If he came quietly, she might not know he was there...she’d have no warning. If she went round to the other side of the bed, she’d be showing her bare arse to the city and anyone with a decent set of binoculars. She didn’t know how to work the remote that frosted the glass to protect her modesty.

Hearing footsteps outside the bedroom door, she froze, thinking he was coming already
, but then they moved away again and she forced herself to make a decision. Going round to her side of the bed, she knelt on the edge and dropped forward onto all fours. If someone did have binoculars, they’d never know who she was and the chances of anyone actually looking up here were remote. Besides, when Gabriel came in all they’d see was him, thrusting away. She closed her eyes at the mental image, her breath coming quicker as she imagined the way the muscles of his arse would flex and shift beneath his skin as he drove into her, again and again. She wondered how he would stand, if he would curl his hand in her hair and ride her, or if he would grasp her hips to pound her. Maybe he would rest his fists to the bed on either side of her body and cover her body with his own. When he came in, would he tease her first, or would he just slide into her in one long, deep, delicious thrust? She could almost feel it already...the imagined sensation making her shift uncomfortably as the ache between her thighs intensified. Would he undress first? Would he watch her waiting there naked for him as he folded his clothes and put them away, or would he just unzip his pants and fuck her fully clothed? Would the city voyeur get to see those amazing tattoos as he winged his way to release? They’d been building up to this all day...a glance here, a smile there, a secret promise of what was to come. Whatever happened in this room tonight, she knew that she would start the following day having been thoroughly fucked.

Goose bumps were rising all over her skin as she waited and imagined. Small shivers quivered up and down her spine as she tormented herself with images of his naked flesh. It was a total sensory overload
, without him even having to touch her.

When he did come in, it wasn’t silently. He wanted her to know he was there and she watched him walk across the room
in a blur of anticipation and apprehension. He came slowly, studying her until she felt flayed raw underneath that predatorial gaze and she had to look away. Without saying anything, he moved behind her and she jerked as probing fingers slid through her folds, testing her readiness.

“Good girl.” He murmured, obviously satisfied with what he found. She knew she was wet. She’d been ready for him for the last ten minutes. She heard a zipper and almost
whimpered, knowing that what she craved was coming soon. There was a slight rustle of cloth, but still he didn’t touch her. What was he doing? She knew instinctively that if she turned round he would be displeased. For the first time, she questioned her decision to face the door. If she’d faced the glass, she could at least have looked at his reflection. She’d never felt so uncertain or so entirely at someone else’s mercy as she did at that moment.

She jerked again as something thrust between her thighs.
Hand? Cock? It slid across her clit and she shuddered with pleasure as he withdrew it, thrusting again and again as she tried to control herself and steady her trembling limbs. Without warning, he shifted the angle of his thrust and the tip of his erection penetrated her. She almost collapsed at the sensation and her whole being focused on that one point of her body as he pushed his way in, filling and stretching her until she didn’t know that she could bear to take any more. Hands curled around her thighs, pulling them apart so she was wide open to him and he pushed in further...deeper. She heard a guttural moaning and realised, in an almost completely detached manner, that the sound was coming from her.

For a long moment he just held her there, squirming and full of his cock
, as she fought the urge to pull away and slam back against him. In some way she understood that he was trying to teach her patience, but the craving was so intense it almost hurt.

When he moved again
, it was to withdraw all the way out and he teased her, thrusting his now slick cock through her folds and over her clit, over and over again before sliding back into her, in one silky fluid move this time. She cried out and again he held her there, stretched and full, yet unfulfilled. It was an agony of frustration and she began to move against him, helpless to stop herself. Hands descended on her hips, holding her still as she pleaded with him to let go.

“Patience kitten.”
He murmured, holding her until she quieted under his hands. When she was trembling but still, he withdrew again, teasing and teasing until she was murmuring incoherently. This time he slammed into her and she arched her back, her hands clawing the duvet beneath her as he held her still, the knowledge that her whole universe revolved around his cock making him smile broadly. She struggled against him, trying to move as he held her still, the muscles at her core clenching and pulling at him as he waited for her to settle. When she writhed too hard he slapped her arse, making a perfect handprint across that creamy skin. It shocked her out of her struggles, but not enough to realise what he’d done, and he soothed his palm across the redness, admiring it with deep pleasure.

“Please Gabriel!” She sounded hoarse with repressed need. “I can’t...please. Please.”

“You must settle.” He said firmly. “Be still or I’ll walk away.”
As if...
There was no way he was walking away from this, but she didn’t know that. Her head hung low as she fought every instinct in her body and stoically set her quivering limbs to firmness in the face of his implacability.

“Good girl.” He approved again. He leaned forward over her back and put his lips to her ear. Her breath was coming in
short, harsh pants and she mewled softly as he nibbled the shell of her ear, tugging at it with his lips as she trembled beneath him. “I’m going to fuck you hard now.” He whispered. “You will tell me when you are about to come.”

Her whole body relaxed at the knowledge that the teasing was over and he straightened up, taking her hips and holding them steady as he drilled into her, again and again in a pounding, unrelenting rhythm.
The relief, coupled with the deeply satisfying thrusting deep within, made Noelle feel almost euphoric, like she was floating in her own skin. She almost forgot to call out when she was close, and was right on the edge when her eyes flew open and she called to him.

He instantly withdrew and she let fly with a wordless howl of frustration and intense need. His kitten was a hellcat and he was pleased. “Settle.” He instructed her
, and her fist pounded the blankets beneath her in impotent rage. This time her shaking was from an almost primal fury as she waited for him to come to her, and he made her wait a good long time.

When he came to her again, he knew this would be the real test. He had pushed her and pushed her...would she respond submissively and open herself to further teasing
, or would she try to take the reins? He fisted his hands in her hair and threw himself into it, the sound of skin sharply smacking against skin drumming an undercurrent to the wild beating of her heart. Her skin was hot and flushed, damp with perspiration, and he licked the salty plane of her spine, making her shiver all over.

He felt her begin to tense beneath him and forced himself not to stop, to wait and see what she would do. After a second, her head dropped beneath his hands. “I’m close.” She sounded resigned and he smiled, letting her go and leaning over her.

“You have my permission to come.” Hooking his hands underneath her shoulders, he fucked her as she came apart beneath him, spilling into her as she slid bonelessly towards the bed, helplessly shuddering all over as wave after wave of orgasm rode her.

He waited until her breathing slowed and then he withdrew, scooping her up and laying her out flat in the bed. Shucking his T-shirt and pants, he crawled in behind her
, pulled the blanket up over them and wrapped his arms around her. “You were amazing.” He kissed the smooth curve where her neck met her collarbone. “Are you okay?” She mumbled something, almost stoned on endorphins and emotional exhaustion, but he thought it sounded positive. “Go to sleep.” He whispered, smiling. “Sweet dreams little kitten...”

When she awoke the following morning he wasn’t in the bed and there was a cup of coffee and two ibuprofen on the bedside table. Taking the tablets, she went through to the bathroom, where she discovered he had run her a bath. She soaked for half an hour or so before her stomach started growling too hungrily to be ignored.

Pulling on one of his T-shirts, she went through to the kitchen. There was a stack of pancakes in the oven keeping warm and a note on the table saying he was in the gym. Feeling strangely grateful for the alone time, she helped herself to breakfast and then poured herself another cup of coffee. She was standing at the window
, listening to the music he had left playing and looking out towards the city, when he reappeared, freshly showered, from somewhere in the direction of the music room.

She smiled at their reflection in the window as he slid his arms around her waist and nuzzled her neck. “You seem pensive.” He said after a few moments. “What’s up?”

“I’m confused.” She admitted.

“Tell me.”

He gave her the silence she needed to put her thoughts into words. “I feel like I should be angry.” She said eventually. “Last night you bossed me around like some sort of slave and I can’t understand why I’m not angry at you, or at myself.”

“Why do you feel like you should be angry?” He asked seriously.

“It’s...I just...I guess I should feel objectified, you know? Reduced to existing by your whim alone...I feel like what happened between us last night took feminism back two centuries. I feel like I should be angry at you for treating me that way and angry at myself for not being angry. I feel like I should be ashamed that I liked it. I want to be angry at myself for having the world’s most mind-blowing orgasm while being treated like...that.”

“And you’re not angry?” He clarified.

“No.” She blew out a disgruntled breath. “I don’t feel angry. I don’t even feel ashamed. I feel...It’s hard to put into words. When I think about what I let you do to me I cringe inside, but I’m glad I put myself through it, you know?”

“You’ve left behind the certainty of your conditioning and you’re finding out how terrifying liberation can be.” He said softly. “I didn’t say it would be an easy journey. Do you know why
I did that to you last night?”

“No.” Her voice was small, like she was afraid of his answer.

“Because I wanted you to forget yourself. I wanted to push you to the point where you lost everything and reverted to your instincts.” He kissed her collarbone. “I wanted you to scream with wild abandon, become the fierce, beautiful animal that nature made you, free from self-repression and restrictive thoughts.”