Chapter 40
Isla wore Gabriel’s white, round neck shirt that ran loosely to her knees, while Gabriel wore nothing but dark sweatpants that clung to his lean frame.
His bare chest was on full display, and she found herself gulping, not only at the perfect ridges of his sculpted muscles but at the trail that led lower, teasing her imagination.
Her eyes wandered for far too long than she meant them to.
When she finally realized she’d been staring, she forced herself to look away, though not before her gaze locked with his. The corner of his lips curved into a knowing smile, one that says the night was only just beginning.
“Shall we?” His smooth voice laced with invitation, gestured toward the door.
She nodded, clearing her throat softly, trying to steady her breath before following him. Together, they left for the pantry.
Isla bent to open the glass freezer, her golden hair falling forward as she searched for something simple to eat. She brought out two packs of fresh prawns, setting them on the counter.
“Is that what we’re having tonight?” Gabriel asked. He was so close behind her, as his hand rested firmly at her waist. Original content can be found at.net
“Yes,” she replied without looking at him. “We can just go with this tonight. A quick stir–fry with some salad. It won’t take long. ”
Her words were rushed. She felt like she was just meeting her husband for the very first time. He looked and sounded too different.
Before she could reach for anything else, he slid behind her, pressing his chest against her back. One palm cupped her breast through the thin cotton of his shirt while the other hand smoothed over the curve of her hip. His breath was hot on her neck.
“I feel like just having you for dinner, Isla,” he murmured, voice roughened with desire.
Her lips curved in a shy smile as she shook her head. “You’d need a lot of strength to survive on only me,” she teased softly. “Trust me.” She wriggled out of his hold. Her checks flushed, before she disappeared into the
kitchen.
Gabriel leaned against the counter and watched her move with quiet steps. She tied her hair to the back loosely and began preparing the meal. She was fast with moving things. He remembered every time he had eaten her food, how he loved her cooking.
No matter what was happening between them. No matter the coldness or the silence, he never stopped craving her food. Maybe because it always felt like her heart was in it.
She set the salad, arranging it in a wide glass bowl. The prawns sizzled in the pan, her wrist flicking the spatula with a rhythm he found strangely hypnotic. The air filled with a rich, buttery aroma, and Gabriel felt his stomach growl.
In no time, the food was ready. She served them both, setting their plates on the marble counter.
urble counter. They sat side
1/3
by side, eating together just like they usually do in the comfort of their kitchen.
“The food is delicious,” Gabriel said, already halfway through his meal. His voice was casual, but his eyes flicked to her with a softness she noticed.
Isla only shook her head and smiled faintly. She had cooked two packs because she knew him well. He always has a very good appetite when it comes to her cooking. And tonight, after what they’d already done together, expected nothing less. Watching the way he devoured the food now, she knew she’d been right.
she
When the plates were empty, Isla carried them to the sink and slipped on gloves to wash the dishes. She was halfway through rinsing the first dish when she felt him at her back again. His heat wrapped around her, making her body go rigid,
His hands moved forward, while his fingers teased over her breasts through the shirt, rolling her nipples until they were tight and aching. She gasped, setting the plate down with trembling hands, tugging off the gloves quickly before bracing herself against the sink.
“Gabriel…” her moan broke softly from her lips.
“I told you,
,” he whispered against her ear, his mouth brushing the shell of it, “we’re not getting any sleep tonight.” His hips pressed forward, driving the hard length of his desire against her curves.
Her knees weakened, her body melting under his dangerous touch.
In a fast move, he turned her to face him. She gasped at the force, her heart racing. His hands slid down, gripping the hem of his shirt that swallowed her frame, tugging it up until her breasts spilled free. Her nipples, already peaked, tightened further under his hungry gaze.
Without hesitation, he bent down and captured one nipple between his lips. Isla cried out, arching into him as heat surged through her body. His hands held her waist firmly, pulling her closer while his mouth feasted- suckling, teasing her. While he was at it, he alternated between her breasts with a hunger that left her stunned.
Her moans echoed through the kitchen, filling the quiet space with so much need. His hand slid lower, between her thighs, finding her swollen clit. His thumb pressed and circled it, fast and steady, until her legs trembled.
“Oh, Gabriel,” she gasped, clutching his shoulders for balance.
His mouth left her breasts and moved upward to her mouth, kissing her fiercely before he dropped to his knees in front of her. His large hands pushed her thighs apart, spreading her open to him as she leaned back against the sink. He inhaled deeply, groaning as if her scent alone intoxicated him.
Then his mouth was on her. His tongue slid against her folds, dipping inside her, tasting and drinking her down. He devoured her like a starving man, his hands holding her thighs wide, keeping her in place when her hips bucked.
There were no restrictions to her cries now, one hand clutching the counter, the other tangling desperately in his hair. The sounds he made against her sent shivers through her body, his groans vibrating into her core.
“Gabriel,” she whimpered. “1… I’m coming p>
“Do it,” he commanded, his voice coming out like a groan against her core.
2/3
The pressure inside her built until it broke. Her climax ripped, violently through her, body convulsing and her thighs trembling. Her mouth opened in a desperate cry. Gabriel drank every drop of her juice, not letting her go until the last wave had passed.
She collapsed against the sink, shuddering, her breath coming in uneven gasps. He rose slowly, liking his mouth, smirking down at her flushed face and trembling body.
“How do you feel?” he asked, his tone both playful and sensual.
Her eyelids fluttered, too heavy to fully open. “I feel… great,” she admitted breathlessly.
He chuckled in a low manner while his eyes were filled with wants and needs.
Florence
Florence is a passionate reader who finds joy in long drives on rainy days. She’s also a fan of Italian makeup tutorials, blending beauty and elegance into her everyday life.