Page 43 of The Wrong Mafia Bride
"Liar," he murmurs, and then his hand slides from my waist down to my hip, fingers tracing the waistband of my leggings. "Your body is telling me a very different story."
"Gabriel—"
"Tell me to stop," he says again, and his fingers slip just barely under the waistband, not going anywhere yet, just resting there like a promise. "Say the word and I'll stop. I'll step back. We'll finish the run and never mention this again."
I open my mouth to say it. To tell him to stop. To maintain some shred of dignity and self-respect.
But what comes out instead is, "Don't stop."
His eyes darken, and the smile that curves his mouth is absolutely wicked. "Good girl."
"Look at you," he murmurs, his free hand coming up to cup my jaw, forcing me to meet his eyes. "So responsive. So ready. And we've barely even touched you."
His fingers move lower, and I gasp, my hands flying up to grip his shoulders—whether to push him away or pull him closer, I genuinely do not know.
"Tell me what you want," he says, his voice low and rough against my ear.
"I—" I cannot form words. Cannot think past the sensation of his hand moving, exploring, finding places that make my knees go weak.
"Tell me," he insists, and there is command in his voice now, the same authority Dante used at dinner but darker somehow, more dangerous.
"I don't know," I gasp, and it is the most honest thing I have said all morning.
"Yes you do." His fingers move in a way that makes me see stars, makes a sound escape my throat that I have definitely never made before. "You want this. You want all of us. Don't you?"
"I—" My head falls back against the tree, my body arching into his touch. "Yes."
"Yes what?"
"Yes I want—" The words die as his fingers move again, as pleasure spikes through me so intensely I forget how to breathe. "Oh God."
"That's better," he murmurs, and I can hear the satisfaction in his voice, the dark pleasure of breaking me down piece by piece. "So much better when you stop lying."
His mouth finds my neck, teeth grazing skin, and the combination of sensations—his hand, his mouth, the rough bark of the tree against my back—is overwhelming in the best possible way.
"Gabriel," I gasp, and I am definitely pulling him closer now, definitely not pushing away.
"I know, Bella," he says against my skin. "I know exactly what you need."
His palm presses flat against my stomach, warm palm pulling my leggings down around beneath the waistband of my leggings and my underwear in one smooth, decisive motion. The cool morning air against my overheated skin makes me shiver, but his touch is pure fire. He doesn’t tease. His fingertips find me, already slick and swollen for him, and he lets out a low groan.
"Christ.You’re already so wet for me.”
I can only whimper in response, my hips bucking forward, seeking more of that contact. He gives it to me. One long, thick finger slides inside me, and my inner muscles clench around him instantly,greedy, so greedy. A choked cry tears from my throat. He stills, letting me feel the full, delicious stretch.
"More," I beg, the word ripped from me. It’s not a question. It’s a plea.
"As you wish," he purrs, and a second finger joins the first.
The stretch is exquisite, a sharp, perfect burn that melts into a deep, throbbing need. He begins to move, a slow, torturousrhythm that has me panting, my forehead dropping to his bare, sweat-slicked shoulder. I can smell him, clean sweat and expensive soap and pure, potentman. It’s intoxicating.
His thumb finds my clit, circling it with just the right amount of pressure. The sensation is electric, a live wire connected straight to my core. My legs tremble violently.
"Gabriel!"
"Right there," he growls, his breath hot on my neck. "I can feel you, Bella. I can feel how much you love this. How much youneedit."
He’s right. I’m falling apart against a goddamn tree in Central Park, and I’ve never felt more alive. His fingers curl inside me, stroking a spot that makes my vision whiten at the edges. He increases the pace, his thumb working in tight, relentless circles. Pleasure builds, a terrifying, beautiful wave gathering force deep in my belly.
