CHAPTER FIVE

|| Gabriel ||

💕💕💕

Fuck! Fuck!! Fuck!!!

I stood there like a fucking idiot, staring at the door she’d just walked out of.

The office was filled with her scent… sweet and warm like vanilla mixed with whatever sin she’d decided to wear today.

I touched my lips, which were still tingling from that mind-blowing and hungry kiss that made a grown-ass man like me forget my own damn name.

I should’ve fucking stopped her.

I should’ve grabbed her shoulders, set her away, told her gently that this was wrong on every level known to God and man.

Instead, I’d kissed her back for three full seconds before my brain kicked in. Three seconds too long.

Now she was gone, and I was losing my fucking mind.

My hands shook as I dragged them through my hair. I could still feel her body pressed against mine, soft in all the places I had no business noticing.

And Christ, the way she’d looked at me right before she left—eyes glassy, lips swollen, cheeks flushed like she’d just been thoroughly fucked instead of just thoroughly kissed.

I wanted to chase after her.

Wanted to drag her back in here, lock the door, bend her over my desk, and bury myself so deep inside her she’d forget every other man who’d ever touched her. I wanted to ruin her for anyone else.

Mark her.

Claim her.

Make her scream my name until her voice gave out.

What the hell is wrong with me?

This is Amara for fuck’s sake.

I was there the day she was born. Held her when she was minutes old, all red and squirmy and loud as hell. I changed her diapers. Taught her how to ride a bike. Watched her grow from knobby-kneed kid to… this.

This woman who just walked in here and turned my entire world sideways with one kiss.

I dropped into my chair like my legs had given up. My cock was so hard it hurt, straining against my zipper like it had a mind of its own.

There is no goddamn way I am reacting to little Amara like this. This was just biology… nothing more.

But I knew I was full of shit.

Because I’ve seen beautiful women before. Dated them. Fucked them. And never once had anyone made me have this clawing, frantic need ripping through me right now.

This can’t work.

I took a deep breath and tried to focus on the contract stack on my desk waiting to be signed. I opened them one after the other, trying to think about numbers… signatures… deadlines… anything but the way her dress had clung to her hips when she turned to leave.

But trying to focus on anything else was very useless.

Every time I blinked, I saw her mouth, imagined those full, pouty lips wrapped around—fuck—around me… pictured her on her knees looking up with those big dark eyes while I…

Jesus Christ, Gabriel, stop.

This is not going to work. There is no way I would be able to focus on work if I don’t take care of this recent problem I was having.

It was merely an itch that I needed to scratch and it would be gone.

Just this once.

I locked my office door, walked into the private bathroom attached to it, and didn’t even bother turning on the light. Just leaned back against the marble counter, unzipped, and pulled my cock out like it had been suffocating.

I was already leaking.

Embarrassing how ready I was.

I closed my eyes and tried—really tried—to think of someone else as I wrapped my palm around the rock-hard dick and started dragging up and down slowly.

I tried to think of something else… the redhead from accounting who’d been flirting for months. That model I’d dated last year. Anyone.

But it was useless.

All I could see was Amara.

Her little gasp when I’d kissed her back. The way her body had melted against mine like she’d been waiting her whole life for it. The way she’d whispered “I’ve wanted this for so long” right before she pulled away.

I groaned and stroked myself faster… but not too fast… trying to keep some shred of control.

But that shred of control didn’t last.

“Fuck!” I hissed as my mind went straight to the filthiest places.

Her bent over my desk, dress rucked up to her waist, panties around her thighs while I slammed into her from behind. My hand wrapped around her throat just tight enough to make her whimper. Her ass red from my palm. Her crying out “Daddy” while I fucked her so hard the desk scraped across the floor.

Fuck.

I pumped faster, grip tightening, and I imagined her mouth around me instead—hot and wet and eager, taking me all the way to the back of her throat while she looked up with those innocent eyes that weren’t innocent at all anymore.

Imagined pulling her hair, guiding her, teaching her exactly how I liked it.

“Amara,” I rasped out loud, voice hoarse. “Fuck, baby.”

My hips jerked. I could almost hear her, soft little moans muffled around my cock, tears in her eyes from how deep I was, but still begging for more because she’s mine. Always been mine. Just didn’t know it yet.

I pictured flipping her over, spreading her open, licking her until she sobbed my name. Then sliding inside her slow, watching her face while she took every inch. Feeling her clench around me when she came, milking me, pulling me over the edge with her.

That did it.

I came so hard my vision went white, knees nearly buckling as I spilled over my fist with a choked curse.

It felt like it went on forever, pulse after pulse, until I was wrung dry and shaking.

I stood there panting in the dark bathroom, forehead pressed to the cool mirror, cum dripping down my hand like evidence.

I am so, so fucked.