Gabriel's Rapture by Reynard, Sylvain (best pdf reader for ebooks .TXT) 📗

tongue snaking out to capture the liquid from her stomach. “Pardon?” he asked.

Julia groaned incoherently.

“It isn’t a fetish so much as an act that gives me joy. I like to care for you, and there’s something sensual about sharing food with a lover.” He eschewed her lips to kiss her shoulder, the tip of his tongue tasting her skin. Withdrawing, he cut another slice of fruit. A few droplets fell like liquid sunshine on her left breast.

“Damn. Forgive my mess.”

He ran a sticky hand up and down her ribs, tantalizing one of his favorite erogenous zones, before placing his lips to her chest.

“You’re killing me,” she managed as his wet mouth found her nipple.

“I seem to recall saying that to you once. And you promised it would be a sweet death.”

Julia opened her mouth to indicate her willingness to accept another piece. “I should have said a sticky death.”

He placed a piece of mango on her tongue before stroking her lower lip with his thumb.

“I’ve thought of that. Don’t worry.”

Without warning, she moved so she was straddling his lap and placed her hands on either side of his face, pulling him toward her. They kissed passionately for a moment before she took the mango and knife from his hand and placed a piece temptingly in her mouth.

He gave her a heated look before he brought their lips together, tugging the piece of fruit away with his teeth.

“Mmmmm,” she hummed. “By the way, I don’t think I ever saw the security video from our date at the museum.”

She gently squeezed a piece of mango over his chest and began kissing and sucking across the droplet trail.

“Ah—ah —” Gabriel had trouble finding his words. “I’ve seen it. It’s pretty hot.”

“Really?” She sat back and languidly ate a piece of fruit in front of him, licking her fingers slowly.

“I’ll show it to you later.” He pulled her into a tight embrace, his hands sliding up and down her back. Then, when he couldn’t stand it any longer, he tossed everything aside so he could lift her into his arms.

“Where are we going?” she asked, slightly alarmed.

“To the beach.”

“But we’re naked.”

“Our beach is private.” He kissed the tip of her nose and carried her down to the water’s edge.

“Someone will see us,” she protested as he stepped into the sea.

“There’s only a little sliver of a moon. Anyone who came by would only see you in silhouette. And what a view.”

He kissed her long and good, adoring her face and neck with his lips as the gentle tide lapped against them. Then he placed her on her feet so he could press every inch of his body to hers.

“See how we fit together?” His voice was urgent. “We’re a perfect match.”

They cupped salt water in their hands, cleaning one another’s flesh. Julia couldn’t help but lean forward to kiss his tattoo, reveling in the way the taste of the sea mingled with the flavor of his skin.

He began kissing her neck and she could feel him smile against her. “Have you ever seen the film From Here to Eternity?”

“No.”

“Then I need to introduce you to it.” He took her hand and led her to the beach, where he lowered himself to the sand. “Please,” he beckoned, motioning that she should lie atop him.

“Here?” Her heart thumped wildly in her chest.

“Yes, here. I want to be inside you, but I don’t want the sand to scratch your skin.” Gabriel pulled her down, and his mouth sought hers eagerly as the waves gently lapped at their legs. When they cried out their pleasure, the pale moon smiled.

* * *

A tropical rainstorm moved through the area the following morning. While the raindrops tapped against the roof of the hut, the couple made love slowly in a bed covered with mosquito netting. They found their rhythm in the steady dance of the rain.

When they were both blissful, he suggested that they rinse the sweat and humidity from their skin in the large bathtub on the veranda. Reclining in vanilla-scented bubbles, Julia leaned against his chest as he wound his arms around her middle. When she was in his arms she could almost forget the troubles that waited for them in Toronto.

She felt safe with Gabriel. It was not that he was a powerful man, although his wealth gave him some measure of strength. It was the way he’d confronted her bullies—first, Christa, then Simon. And the fact that he’d excoriated her father for a lifetime of neglect.

The vulnerability of the lovers’ bed was well-known to Julia now. She knew nakedness and intimacy, desire and burning need, and deep, deep satisfaction. But she also knew that Gabriel loved her and wished to protect her. In his arms, she felt safe, for the first time in her life.

“Saturday mornings were my favorite when I was a child.” Gabriel interrupted her musings with a wistful voice.

Julia traced his lifeline with a single finger. “Why?”

“My mother was passed out. I could watch cartoons. This was before we lost our cable.” He gave her a half smile, and Julia tried not to cry, thinking of Gabriel as a sad little boy whose only happiness was a few hours of cartoons.

“I used to make my own breakfast. Cold cereal or peanut butter on toast.” He shook his head. “When we ran out of milk, which we did frequently, I’d use orange juice.”

“How was it?”

“Awful. It wasn’t even real orange juice—it was Tang.” He stroked her hair absentmindedly. “I’m sure a psychiatrist would have much to say about the connection between my childhood and my attachment to fine things.”

Impulsively, Julia turned and threw her arms around his neck, causing a great tidal wave of water to slosh over the sides of the tub.

“Hey, what’s all this?”

She buried her face into his shoulder. “Nothing. I just love you so much it hurts.”

He hugged her gently. “Those things happened thirty years ago. Grace was more of a mother to me. I regret not being with her