Haze (15 page)

Gabriel

There was a moment when the confession was mine to make. It happened when I first saw the handcuffs on the table as she rooted through her belongings trying to find her phone. It's been the one thing that has gnawed at me since I kissed her that first night in my car.

I saw her at Skyn. I watched her through the glass and I should tell her that.

Those are the words my conscience believes are my truth.

The wise, and experienced, crevices of my mind are telling me to leave it the fuck alone. She's here, in my bed, sleeping as her nude body is pressed against mine. I've tasted her, I've fucked her and I have no intention of stopping.

Drudging up a moment in the past will only embarrass her and push her back into that corner of humiliation she felt at the hotel when I ignored her pleas for more.

I have no reason to go back to that club and I'll make damn sure she doesn't either. I'll give her everything she needs and wants. Everything.

She stirs slightly, her soft breasts pressing against my chest.

I could take her again right now. If she'd given me the go ahead, I'd roll her onto her back to sink my cock into her cunt so I can feel the slickness and smoothness around me. It's something I'd only done once or twice when I was a teenager with women whose names I can't recall. The sensation was nice, pleasant but I know with Isla it would be more.

It's not what she wants. She's cautious, wary, and careful with herself.

I won't push. I want to push for more than she's ready or willing to give but she's setting the pace of this. It moves as she wishes. I don't need to tell her that, she senses it. I sense it's exactly what she needs.

"Do you have any ice cream?"

Her body trembles as it absorbs the vibrations from my chest as I chuckle deeply. "Are you talking in your sleep or do you want ice cream?"

"You're so ripped I bet you never eat ice cream."

I roll over her, pinning her hands against the sheet above her head. Her hair is a mess, her lips still swollen from when I'd fucked her mouth hours ago.

"I have chocolate and strawberry." I inch her thighs apart with my knee. "If you want another flavor, I'll send Charles to get it."

"You'd send him to get me ice cream?"

"I'll go myself if you prefer." I look down at her body. It's beautiful.

She circles her hips off the bed. "I don't want you to go."

"I'll stay here forever if that's what you want."

Her eyes soften as she stares into mine. It's almost painful the way she looks at me. There's a pureness there, an innocence that is in sharp contrast to the person she presents to the world. Here, with me, there's no filter in her smile or her gaze.

"I'll get you any flavor of ice cream you want after I make love to you."

Her eyes inch down my face to my chest and beyond. "Do you have another condom? I brought some. They're on the table by the door."

I nod faintly when I inch closer, leaning forward to run my tongue over her bottom lip.

"Please, get the condom." She pulls her hands free to push at my chest. "I can't. I won't without it."

I hike her thighs over mine and scoop my hand behind her back as I lean to the left to grab the condom package I'd placed on the nightstand earlier. I rest her back down as I rip it open to sheath myself, my eyes glued to her face the entire time.

"I'm sorry," she says softly. "It's just that…"

"No." I silence her with a finger to her lips. "You will never apologize for protecting yourself."

She nods faintly.

Her thighs are still splayed across mine as I inch forward rubbing the head of my dick over her clit. "You come first. I will never push for more than you can give. Do you understand that?"

"Yes," she says the words breathlessly as I slide into her. "I understand."

I don't say another word as I lower my mouth to hers and fuck her with a tenderness that I've never felt before.

***

"You're full of secrets, aren't you?"

Her voice startles me. I'm sitting in my home office. Dawn hasn't broken yet and when she'd had her fill of ice cream and me, she'd finally fallen into a deep sleep. I'd kissed her softly before I pulled myself from the bed to make a call to our European head office in Rome. I'd spoken as quietly as I could so as not to wake her.

"You're not an undercover reporter doing a story on my family, are you?" I smooth my hands over the sweatpants I'm wearing again. "Come, sit here."

She walks over quickly, her body covered by the dress shirt I wore to dinner. I prefer it on her, even though her hands have disappeared beneath the fabric of the arms.

I adjust her into the perfect spot before I circle my hands around her waist. "What new secret have you uncovered, Ms. Lane?"

"Secrets," she corrects me with a soft kiss to the mouth. "As in more than one."

I claim her mouth again, this time tracing my tongue over her bottom lip. "Tell me about these secrets."

"The first is that you're reading that new detective novel that everyone is talking about on social media." She trails her index finger over my chin.

"You saw it on the nightstand. That's hardly a secret."

"That's not the actual secret." She slides her hand to the back of my neck so she can pull me into a long, lingering kiss. "The secret is that you read the last page before you'd even finished the third chapter because you were so anxious to know the ending."

"Parli Italiano?"

"Yes," she whispers into my cheek. "I speak Italian."

"How much of that conversation did you hear?" I try to sound stern but it's futile. "More importantly, where did you learn to speak Italian?"

"I heard the last few minutes of it." She nuzzles her face into the crux of my neck. "I wasn't eavesdropping. You weren't in bed so I wanted to find you."

"I'm glad you did."

"My grandmother spoke Italian." She runs her fingers over my chest. "She loved an Italian man desperately when she was my age."

"So your grandfather is Italian?" I ask, pulling her even closer to me.

"No, the Italian man loved an Italian woman. My grandmother married a man from Ireland."

I laugh loudly. "Did the Irish man make her happy?"

"He was Irish." She tilts her head up to look into my eyes. "What do you think?"

"I think she loved him enough to marry him so he made her very happy."

"He did." She nods faintly as she cups my cheek. "Until the day he died."

Isla

"That's only one secret, Isla." He brushes his cheek against my forehead as I rest my head on his chest. "What's the other secret?"

This one is harder. It's not playful and fun. It's also not my business but I don't do well with curiosity. It eats at me. It's only a question. The worst that can happen is that he'll tell me it's none of my business.

"It's about your fuck pad."

"Fuck. Pad," he says the words separately, decisively. "What is that?"

I sigh heavily in jest as I look into his eyes. "It's the place you take all the ladies to when you want to nail them."
His brows cock in unison. "Nail them? No. Don't. My brother talks like that."

I smile at the expression on his face. "We'll start over. I have a question about the hotel room that you use to fuck women."

"Why are we talking about that?" He shifts beneath me. "It's a hotel that is owned by my family. I use the room occasionally to entertain."

"Call it what you will." I tap his shoulder. "I don't care about that. I was wondering about the bedroom."

"What about it?" I hear the uneasiness in his tone.

"There's a chest of drawers there. It's locked."

He scrubs the back of his neck with his palm. "Yes, I keep that locked."

"What's in it?"

He leans back, slightly breathless. That reaction should be all the answer I need but it's not. "I'd rather not discuss this, Isla. At least not right now."

His legs move beneath me. I stand up sensing that he needs me to. "That's fine. I was just curious."

He rises to his feet too. "We need to preface that conversation with one about your experiences."

"My experiences?" My hands leap to my chest. "I'm not sure I'm following. What experiences?"

"You enjoy being bound," he says quietly. "Restrained."

I nod, shifting nervously on my feet.

He rakes both hands through his hair. "You responded when I spanked you. Pain gets you off?"

"It depends who is administering it," I confess. "I liked when you did it."

"What else do you enjoy?" He drops his hands to sides. "Tell me what else you've done that you've liked."

This isn't the discussion I anticipated when I walked into his office. I honestly thought he'd tell me that he keeps dildos in those drawers to use on the women he brings there. The worst thing I imagined was that he'd confess to me that he collects the used panties he's ripped off all the women he's fucked there. I never imagined this would be turned around on me.

"I was in a sex swing once." I dart my index finger into the air. "That was hot."

His hands jump to his lips. "I'll keep that in mind. What else?"

"I once sucked a man off on a bus," I begin. "It was late and dark but…"

"No." His chest heaves. "I don't mean that."
"You asked." My hands dart to my hips. "I'm just telling you what I've done."

Before I can react his hands are on my biceps, gripping, tugging. "Have you ever been flogged, Isla? Has a man ever whipped you? Have you ever come from having hot wax dripped onto your skin?"

I shake my head slowly, ever so slowly from side-to-side.

"Nipple clamps? You've used though, yes?"

"No, sir."

"That's what is in those drawers, Isla. Those are the things I keep there, they are what I enjoy."

I lace my fingers together in front of me. "I've never done that, any of that."

He closes his eyes. "I didn't want this conversation to happen now. I would never have chosen to share these things this way, this early. "

I should say that I want to try, or at the very least, that I want to know more, but I can't. Not yet. Not when I'm uncertain that I have the internal strength to do any of it.

"Can I go home now?" I ask quietly. "I think I should go home."

"No." His voice is edged with a plea, just as his expression is. "Let's go back to bed. Let me hold you until morning. Please, Isla."

I should have stayed there, wrapped in the sheets that still held the scent of our lovemaking. If I had done that, this wouldn’t be stuck in the air between us now.

"I'll stay until morning." I reach for his hand. "I'll stay."

***

"I need you to understand something." He's on his knees next to the bed as I open my eyes after falling back asleep. "I have to explain something to you before I take you home."

I roll onto my side so I'm facing him directly. I tuck my hands next to my face. "What is it, Gabriel?"

"You have the most melodic voice I've ever heard." He brushes my hair from my forehead. "You're a good singer, aren't you?"

I smile. "I can't hold a tune. I'm a fantastic violinist though."

"The best I've ever heard." He licks his bottom lip. "I've never met anyone quite like you before."

"That's because there's only one me."

He laughs. "You have no idea how true that statement is."

"I've never met anyone like you before either." I swallow past the lump in my throat. "Last night was amazing. I've never had a night like that."

"I need to say something about what happened in my office." His voice is still sleepy. "The things I spoke of don't define my desires."

"You like them though."

"I find them arousing."

I wipe the back of my hand over my eyes, trying desperately to chase the sleep away. "The first time my boyfriend tied me to the bed, I was scared."

His expression softens as he traces his index finger over my chin. "Did you tell him that?"

I exhale harshly. "I did and he assured me. He got on the bed next to me. He held me close. He told me he'd take care of me and we choose a safeword together."

"Haze?"

"No. It was something else. I don't remember anymore what it was."

He presses a kiss to my forehead. "Did you use your safeword during that encounter?"

"I didn't have to." I look up and into his eyes. "He was gentle. It was a fantastic experience."

"Did he spank you?"

"Not that time, later, other times."

He hesitates for a moment. "Tell me why you like the spanking. How does it feel?"

I duck my head down for a moment to shield the blush I feel racing over my cheeks. I've spoken about intimacy to men before, but not like this, not with this level of vulnerability. No one has ever tried to understand me this way.

"It feels freeing; almost like I'm letting go." I rub my thighs together. "There's also the physical part of it. My pussy trembles when I'm spanked. Everything feels so much more sensitive."

"It can be that way with a flogger, or a crop too. Those sensations, you can feel them more intensely under the skilled hand of a man who knows how to push you to the edge."

"Do you want to do those things to me, Gabriel?"

In one fluid movement he's on the bed, his hands braced on either side of me, his face hovering close to mine. "I want to give you the most intense pleasure you've ever experienced. Whether I use my hand, my mouth, my cock, or anything else hardly matters. I just want you to feel as much as you can under my touch."

I want that too. I want to tell him that but I can't. It's all too much.

"I told you I'd never push for more than you can give, Isla. I meant that."

"I know that you did."

"Will you promise me one thing?"

If he'd look at me the way he is now for every day of the rest of my life, I'd promise him anything. "What is it?"

"Promise me that you'll let me take you to the symphony tomorrow night as planned." His lips graze my cheek. "Let me see you experience that."

"There's no one else in the world I'd rather go with than you."