Fallen (42 page)

And when his forehead rested briefly on hers, his hand cupping the back of her neck, she sighed again. Her body was impatient, wanting more, but at the same time she wanted the moment to stretch and last, to make up for all the weeks of being without him.

Gabriel kissed her, a press, then a pull back, again and again, quick but passionate touches that tossed over her earlier conviction. She did want more. The kisses were so intense, so teasing, so fleeting, so filled with intensity, and she tried to hold them, tried to take more, but he pulled back over and over. Her breathing hitched, her inner thighs ached, her nipples tightened painfully against her T-shirt. She clung to his jeans, her grip tightening, and she gave up trying to follow his mouth.

His hands went everywhere, lingering briefly with the barest of touches on her neck, her head, her back, her waist, while he took her mouth so fully, so completely, that she lost track of time, lost track of anything but the possession of her lips by his. Her eyes couldn’t stay open, her head couldn’t stay up, as she gave herself up to being taken by him, slowly and tauntingly. Worshipfully.

When his tongue finally invaded her mouth and touched hers, she squeezed his waist, rocking back involuntarily at the pleasure. But again, he didn’t take hard and fast, but he explored with a control that amazed her, that left her weak, clinging to him, body humming, heart full. She could feel his erection pressing against her, but he ignored it, never attempting to grind against her, his hands staying above her waist. His tongue took hers, mimicking sex until she thought she couldn’t take another second, not one more kiss or slide or suck.

He pulled entirely back, his eyes hot and dark. “You taste so good I want to eat you,” he said, and leaned forward and nipped at her bottom lip with his teeth.

Sara sucked in a breath as the bite shot an ache of desire through her. “So eat me.”

“Oh, I will. But I’m going to take my time.” He ran his finger along the neckline of her T-shirt, then across her bottom lip. “I never thought I would have this, never thought I would have you. I want to enjoy you.”

She wanted to be enjoyed.

Sara reached out and buried her fingers in his soft hair and kissed him the way he had been kissing her, with love and longing and wonder, before pulling back.

He gave her a Gabriel smile, the kind where only the corner of his mouth tilted up, while his lips stayed together, like he had a private thought that amused and pleased him. “I love you,” he said, his mouth forming the words, but no sound coming out.

Sara felt the tears again, and she wondered why she fought them. There was no shame in her emotions, no reason to apologize for the intensity of what she felt, for the feeling that this was forever, that this man, this moment, had changed her life. That she was in love. Deeply and joyfully in love, and that was worth a tear or two.

So she let a drop slide down each cheek unencumbered as she studied Gabriel, the straight line of his jaw, the whiskers that had snuck up onto his chin in the last few hours. She couldn’t resist touching him, running her fingers over and down his cheekbones and his lips, before cupping his cheeks the way he had with her.

Gabriel kissed her, and Sara opened up for him, let him have everything she had to offer, let him taste her, let him feel and know that she was his.

His hands slipped lower, caressing her back as he tasted her, as their tongues tangled and she felt a hope, a happiness she had never expected to know. Because not only had she never loved any man like she did Gabriel, she had never been loved this way. Had never felt such adoration, such devotion, such true and pure love as she did from him, and the fact that he had lived for so many years only made it all that much sexier. It was like he had been waiting for her and she for him.

And just when she thought he intended to do nothing but kiss her indefinitely, he took the bottom of her T-shirt, pulled it up and over her head, and tossed it on the floor. Sara shivered from the sudden movement of air over her bare skin and from the immediate tickle of his fingertips over her shoulders and down to her elbows as he stroked her. He did that everywhere, just touching lightly, all over her arms, her stomach, her cleavage, acquainting himself with her feel, and Sara swallowed hard, pleased by his interest, his intensity, but tortured by it. Her body was tight and tense, impatient, wanting more, wanting to take him inside her. She gripped the hem of his shirt for balance and let her head fall back as Gabriel slid her bra straps over her shoulders, kissing her along the path he bared.

“You feel so good. You smell so good. Like cinnamon.” He licked her flesh, the tip of his tongue tripping off goose bumps on her shoulder.

“Body oil,” she said, though he probably didn’t need or want an answer. His tongue slid down, down, until he was tracing the swell of her breast above her bra.

“I’ve wanted to touch you since the moment I met you,” he said, his hair tickling her arm as he peeled down the front of her bra.

“What a coincidence. I’ve been wanting you to touch me since the moment I met you.” Sara sucked in her breath when his finger brushed her taut nipple. She was so tight, so eager, so ready for him.

He glanced up at her, his expression serious. “But you came back knowing I couldn’t.”

She nodded. “Yes, I did.” And she would have stayed even if the outcome had been different.

His head dipped in acknowledgment. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Sara moved her hands across his chest, enjoying the firm feel of him so close to her.

“For loving me like that.”

As if she deserved gratitude for that. “My pleasure.”

Her bra disappeared. And his answer was to cover her nipple with his mouth, to suck it and lick and pluck at it with his teeth. Sara moaned, feeling that tug all the way down to her toes. Then she didn’t even have the ability to make sound, because Gabriel was touching and kissing her everywhere. He moved from nipple to nipple, to neck, to mouth, plunging his tongue inside her and kissing her hard and fast, then soft and sweet. He kissed her chin, her nose, her eyelids, the insides of her elbows.

“I can’t get enough of you,” he murmured. “I want to touch you everywhere.”

That worked for her. Sara buried her hands in his hair and held on, overwhelmed with desire, by his attention, his intensity. His fingers popped the snap on her jeans, and slid inside to cup her. She knew what he felt. Her panties were wet already, obviously so, and the way he pressed his finger into her softness confirmed that he knew exactly that little fact.

It was his fault for being so damn sexy, and she moved her legs a little further apart, encouraging him to touch her. She craved that moment when he took her, when he was the force behind the thrust, when he took and possessed her body with his for what was truly the first time. She had taken him last time and he had let her.

Now she wanted him to make her his.

Gabriel had been enjoying taking his time, exploring and touching Sara everywhere. He felt like he had been granted a gift so amazing and beautiful and huge he needed to reassure himself that it was real. That she was real. That he was entitled to such happiness, such pleasure.

But when she thrust her hips forward toward him, the front of her panties damp with desire, Gabriel felt the urge to take what she was offering, to finally and truly have Sara the way he had wanted to from the beginning. There was no reason to hold back this time and he knew it. He felt the lust rising hot and fast, driving him to shove down her jeans as he dominated her mouth with his tongue.

Sara gasped, her head falling back, her neck tantalizing. Gabriel licked her soft flesh and bent to make sure her jeans had cleared her knees. Then he pulled the waistband of her panties and slid his finger inside, straight down her clitoris and right inside her. Her moan, and the hot, wet feel of her eager body, made him ache with a pain so intense he knew he couldn’t wait another minute. Maybe not even thirty seconds.

She was his. He loved her. And now they were both going to enjoy the fact that he could fully and freely fuck her.

Taking her by the shoulders, Gabriel demanded, “Step out of your jeans.”

She did, kicking them to the side, her eyes wide and glassy with lust and love and excitement.

Gabriel turned her impatiently and pushed her against the wall. Sara’s breasts jumped, her breath caught, her hands came up to spread across the plaster. He could see her ribs, the curve of her abdomen, the disarray of her hair as she waited, so beautiful and eager. Moving in closer to her, Gabriel stripped off his own shirt and jeans, reached forward, and kissed her hard, biting her, wanting that taste of her on his tongue.

He slid her panties down and melded his hard body against the warmth and softness of her, holding her right hand captive under his. Then with his free hand, he spread her legs, nice and wide, opened her, and thrust his erection fully into her.

Sara whimpered, and her hand jumped beneath his. Gabriel closed his eyes, letting himself throb inside her for a second, savoring, enjoying. Then his body demanded he move, and he did, hard, fast, furious, taking what he had waited for so long. Her body held on to his, gripping him, accepting him. Gabriel clenched her hand with one hand, her waist with the other, and buried his face in her neck, no words to express what he felt, how much he loved her, how amazing it felt to be fully and deeply inside her.

He knew when she came, her head snapping up, her eyes wide and stunned, her fingernails digging into the palm of his hand, her inner muscles convulsing around his cock, her mouth open in a silent scream.

It was more than enough to send him over the edge, letting go completely, pounding his relief, his pleasure, into her, allowing his body to do what it wanted without guilt or recrimination or personal censure. This was right, this was his future.

His happiness.

Sara woke up slowly and languorously, feeling like she never wanted to move from Gabriel’s bed. Ever. The sheet had slipped at some point during the night but she wasn’t cold, and her nakedness actually pleased her. She knew Gabriel wasn’t in bed with her because he was what had woken her from a sound sleep. The best sleep she’d had in a year or more. It was clearly morning, given the sun streaming in the bedroom window, and while she hadn’t been aware of Gabriel climbing out of bed, she knew he was in the other room because she could hear the piano.

He was playing his piano.

It was a soft song, delicate, lovely, beautiful. The sound drifted over her like the light touch of a feather, like the gentle shift of Gabriel’s fingers through her hair, like the kisses he dropped on the corners of her mouth.

Sara lay still and listened, letting it wrap around her, knowing what it must mean to him to have music back in his life, his soul. When she couldn’t stay away any longer, when the need to see him, touch him, surpassed her desire to give him privacy, she climbed out of bed and got one of his T-shirts out of the drawer and pulled it on. Her panties were still in the living room, left behind when Gabriel had dragged her to bed for round two.

Knowing she was smiling, knowing she was embarrassingly in love, she walked into the living room. And was devastated by him all over again. He was gorgeous. Unbelievably so. Gabriel was sitting at the piano shirtless, his jeans low on his hips, his feet bare. His hair slid over his shoulders and his eyes were closed as he played. She shifted so she could see his fingers, watch them trail over the keys, long and powerful and talented, confident in their movements.

It was mesmerizing, the way he coaxed such a beauty of sound from the piano, and she knew she could watch him for a lifetime.

But he sensed her presence and opened his eyes. Gabriel smiled at her, his hair falling forward as he kept playing. “Good morning.”

“Good morning. The song is beautiful.”

“It’s your song.”

“My song?” She didn’t recognize it, but then she wasn’t at all familiar with classical music. Whatever it was, she liked it.

“Yep. I wrote it for you.”

Sara stared at him as he kept playing, his mastery effortless, his focus on her instead of his fingers. “What? What do you mean?” Surely he wasn’t saying what she thought he was saying.

“I mean I wrote it. It’s your song. It’s how I hear you.”

Oh, God. Sara sucked in a shaky breath, overwhelmed with love, with joy, with gratitude. “It’s lovely,” she whispered.

“Like you.”

Sara buried her eyes behind her hand, feeling the tears demanding release. Sniffling, she let them trail down each cheek. “I’m glad to see that losing your immortality didn’t take away your talent. It’s incomparable.”

His smile was satisfied. “It’s a gift. As are you.”

Sara went over to him, needing to touch him, wanting to feel his mouth on hers. She leaned over and kissed him, a lingering embrace that had her sighing. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said, sliding his hand under the T-shirt to cup her bare backside. “Now let’s go get some coffee.”

Sara laughed. He was as random as always. “Okay. Let me put pants on.”

“Probably a good idea.”

Five minutes later, Gabriel pushed open the courtyard gate and stepped out onto the sidewalk, Sara holding on to the crook of his elbow. The bag of Anne’s ashes was in his other hand.

“It’s just beautiful out,” Sara said, pausing to breathe in deeply. “It’s not too hot.”

“What should we do today?” he asked her, unable to stop himself from kissing the top of her head. Twice. And a third time for good measure.

“I want to look for a job. It’s time for me to go back to work in a lab.”

She spoke with an easy conviction and Gabriel was pleased to hear it.

“And arrange to ship my stuff here.”

He looked at her in amusement as they started to head down toward Chartres Street. “Are we going to need a bigger apartment?”