There's a small sex scene in the beginning.
Thank you, Chas, for your edits and comments.
—————————————————————————
Chapter 6
The late morning sun spilled through the window, but Gabriel did not want to wake up from this dream. He wanted to draw up the curtains and block everything and everyone out to stay in bed with Rosaline, with her softness pressing into him, without the deal with The Order, without the mystery of the break-in, without the uncertainty of her crazy plan, without vibrating phones.
Without text messages from Max at ten in the morning telling him he was bringing his wife and their baby to Gabriel's house for dinner because all new parents with a baby wanted to show off their baby to literally everyone they knew. But it would be more reasonable to assume Max just wanted to check up on him, to make sure that he had not done anything stupid.
And he had not.
Everything he had told her last night was true; for once in his life, his truth was not full of lies that he told himself. He did not like her plan, did not like that she felt that she had to protect both of them.
Because it was supposed to be his job. He wanted to protect her from The Order, the break-in, from shame and sorrow so that he could make her happy. He wanted to be happy with her.
But to what end?
So he could personally deliver the final blow by turning her in to The Order? So
he
could buy himself out from the Faustian bargain that he made with The Order all those years ago?
This was why Gabriel preferred the lies. The truth made him feel helpless, like he was useless in protecting the woman that he...
Her hand distracted him from his thoughts, drawing lazy circles around his belly button, twirling the hair.
"What are you doing?" he asked as she continued to send tingles down his body with her hand.
She frowned in mock offense. "In case you're wondering, most people greet each other with good morning when they wake up, or sometimes when they are in a more, hm, how to put it"—she looked over her shoulder as her hand kept dipping lower to the end of his abdomen—"
inquisitive
mood, they ask if the other person slept well."
He arched an eyebrow. "Most people don't wake up next to you."
"Is that a complaint?" she gasped dramatically.
"Depends on where that hand is going."
She let out a luscious laugh as he turned her in his arms to face him, tracing his finger along the curves formed by her hip and her waist, enjoying the way she shuddered under his touch.
"How's your hangover?"
"Depends on where that hand is going."
He laughed and turned his teasing touch to a tickling one. "I'd appreciate it if that mouth of yours could occasionally give me a straight answer."
Gasping for air from the giggles, she climbed on top of him, straddling his stomach, her hair cascading around him, cloaking him in her jasmine scent, then she said, "I wonder what else it can give you."
His heart pounded into the palm of her small hand, which was flattened against his chest as his hands roamed her smooth skin underneath his t-shirt that he put on her last night. His cock throbbed with anticipation.
"Perhaps a kiss?"
He tilted her chin so she looked him directly in the eye. "I take this new development to mean that your head is fine?"
"Ah. Head," bending forward, she whispered into his ear, sucking in his earlobe. "The gentleman has a different idea."
Swallowing, he brought her lips to his before she could wreak more havoc on his sanity and said against the lush source of his demise, "All talk."
"That's what smart mouths are for," she said, warm breath exciting him.
She closed the distance and pressed her lips to his, leaving a featherlight kiss. "And kissing."
Before he could deepen the kiss, she moved away to trail her lips along the line of his jaw to his neck. He leaned his head back to extend his neck, combing his fingers through her hair.
"Lots of kissing." She looked up at him from his chest.
Then she dropped her pink lips to his broad chest, her hand toying with the tuft of hair at the base of his navel. She swirled her tongue around his flat nipple, flicking at the tip. His breath hitched, cock straining; he felt her fingers creep under the elastic of the waistband.
Rosaline lifted her head to look at him, a satisfied smile on her lips, and he knew at that moment that he never stood a chance.
Sliding herself down his body, she rolled his boxer briefs down and revealed his cock to her ardent perusal.
He pressed his head into the pillow when she wrapped her hand around his hard cock, smoothing her hand down his shaft, then back to the tip. Then down. And up again, her thumb brushed against the crown. His stomach muscles contracted and he thrust his hips upwards.
"And did I mention licking?" she asked.
With short, shallow breaths, he came up to his elbows to watch her lick away the liquid excitement on the tip. And when she let out a small sigh—the same sigh she devoted to worshipping dessert—he needed to feel her, pulling her up to kiss her, tasting his own saltiness on her tongue.
He removed her top and tipped her forward, bringing her nipple to his mouth, wringing those moans that he loved so much, wanting to hear her scream his name.
"You're distracting me." Her complaint was a mere gasp of sounds between the pleasurable sighs, making him laugh.
"From what, Goddess?"
With a seductive glance, she moved down his body once again and licked from the base of his cock to its tip, covering every inch of the length with her sweet mouth, making tiny wet noises.
"I've seen it in porn," she said, kissing along the hard ridge.
Gabriel choked. "We need to revisit this conversation."
She swirled her tongue around the head. "I've wondered what it feels like."
"And?" He managed to make his groan sound like a word.
She sank half of the length into her soft mouth, lifted her head and looked to him. "It's smooth and hard. And I like it."
Her mouth was back on his cock, taking him in deep, then lifting her head until only the tip was enshrouded in her hot breath. "You like this."
Like this?
He would not survive. Letting out a harsh breath, he reached for her, desperate to feel her. He wanted her everywhere, on his lips, in his arms, around his cock. "Come here."
"No." Rosaline shook her head, prying his hands away from her body. "This is my exploration and you're distracting me from my goal."
"Which is?" Gabriel arched the dark eyebrow, or so he tried. Blood pulsed in his ears and his cock, which grew harder with each tease.
Her answer was another sinful smile and lick; soft, wet mouth enveloped the hardness. "Besides..."
