Office Politics Ch. 03

He opened the drawer of the bedside cabinet and fished a condom out. He sat up right again, and she used the moment to admire him once more. He pulled it on, lined himself up at her entrance. Resting on forearms on either side of her head, studied her face as his erection nestled against her entrance, and for a moment Jess felt a thrill of anticipation. Then he slid into her, excruciatingly slowly, making a primal sound, somewhere between a growl and a moan as he bottomed out in her. She savoured the sense of fullness, of rightness, while his body covered hers, pressing her into the mattress beneath them.

He grabbed her face in both his hands. "You feel so good," he told her, as he pressed kisses along her sternum, drawing one of her nipples into his hot mouth.

She gripped his shoulders, her nails dug into his skin, she felt like she was riding a storm as he surged into her, filling all of her, plunging in and out. And still he fucked her, and it was hard and fast and delicious.

It had been a while since she'd had sex. There was something primal and deeply satisfying about sex with Gabriel. She couldn't get enough. He wrapped her up in his arms, his hands were almost big enough to encircle her waist entirely. Pulling himself upright, he held her braced against him. It felt incredible, he was so big and forceful.

His movements became faster, more erratic, he gripped the bed headboard behind them to give himself greater purchase, and plunged into her, over and over again. She clung to him, her thrusts meeting his, with equal enthusiasm, as unexpectedly she found herself aroused by his dominating behaviour. She pressed her eyes closed as she drifted towards release and began to lose herself to the sensations.

Suddenly, Gabriel climaxed. With a shuddering roar, he groaned her name as he collapsed on top of her.

For a long while she lay still, as the weight of him pinned her to the bed. His breathing slowed and evened out.

After everything he was asleep.

Fast asleep.

The grip on her wrists loosened enough that she could move her hands from above her head and rest them by her sides. For a while, she just waited, trapped beneath him, too dazed, too shocked to move, vibrating with frustration. Soon it dawned on her that he really was so deeply asleep that she could probably slide out from under him without him stirring.

Dazed by how suddenly everything had happened. She sat up, and pushed her damp mussy hair back from her face. She looked around, truly taking in, for the first time, the austere, expensive apartment.

There were two doors, the one they'd come in through moments ago, and another on the other side of the room, she assumed it was an ensuite and was pleased when she found she was right. She pushed open the door and carefully tip-toed inside, relieved when she flipped the switch that the light wasn't too harsh.

Emotions washed over her, crowding her head. Her cheeks warmed and her throat felt dry. She splashed cold water on her face, and arranged her hair as best she could back into some semblance of the low bun she wore at work.

Back in the room, she grabbed her dress from the floor and pulled it on. While she slid the zip up, she took a moment to study Gabriel in the light from the bathroom. He was sprawled out on the bed, gloriously naked, looking every bit like a Greek god, and yet asleep, he looked younger and somehow more vulnerable.

She wandered out of his bedroom, and back into the rest of his apartment. Her underwear lay in a crumpled heap by the door. She pulled her pants back on, tucked the tights into her bag and turned her attention back to the Palatial living space. That time, she noticed the sublime furnishings, the dark wooden floors, the deep slate walls, She drifted over to the window and gazed out as she wondered if she should order an Uber, or just jump on the tube. The view was stunning. A panoramic cityscape, all the more breathtaking because the rain on the window blurred the lights. She could see the station, not too far away. Gunnersbury. She checked the time. She blinked, it wasn't even eight o'clock yet. It felt like so much had happened in such a short time. It felt much later.

When she turned back to face the room, Gabriel was lounging lazily against the door frame, his arms folded across his chest. She started at the sight of him. He watched her through narrowed eyes, and the expression on his face was one she was already all too familiar with. She was briefly distracted by the width of his shoulders, his well defined biceps, his narrow hips. She opened her mouth to speak. And closed it again.

How long had he been standing there?

"I hope you don't think you're leaving." His voice seemed to be all around her, like smoke, subtle but deadly.

"It's late, I should..."

But he was crossing the room in long strides, reaching her before she could even think about moving. Cupping her face in his hands. Pressing his lips against hers ever so gently. Something warm and alive fluttered in her chest and within moments the dress was gone again, lying draped over the arm of the sofa and Jess was only wearing her pants. He lifted her off the ground, and sweeping her into his arms like a newly wedded bride, he carried her over the threshold and back to his room.

Again he lowered her onto the centre of the mattress, on her back and covered her with his own body, lying on top of her, arms on either side of her head, caging her with his arms. His kisses covered her face.

"I'm sorry, that doesn't usually happen." A baffled frown flickered briefly across his beautiful features. "I'm usually much more controlled." As he spoke, he trailed his velvet lips along her throat. "I don't normally behave like a rutting animal." he pressed his lips along the length of her collarbone. "So undignified." He sighed. "What must you think of me?"

She wasn't sure how to respond to that, but it didn't matter for very long, because soon his lips were trailing down her sternum, following the line of her breast, his hands cupping them, brushing his thumbs over the nipples, and suddenly forming a coherent sentence was beyond her capabilities.

He travelled further down, trailing his lips along the bottom edge of her ribs, across her stomach, pausing to brush against her navel.

"Perfection." He whispered, almost as though talking to himself. He looked up, "I want to taste you." His eyes were bright with some strange blue fire, it sent shivers coursing through her.

He cupped her bottom with his hands, lifted her hips off the mattress and trailed his lips tantalisingly softly along the skin on her inner thigh. She writhed and bucked and cried his name over and over, but it didn't stop him skipping over that most sensitive place and starting all over again on her other thigh.

The first time his tongue brushed against her lips, she thought she might burst into flames. He teased her with his tongue, his touch so gentle it was the merest flicker against her flesh, but it was electric.

Her hips arched still further off the bed, her fists clenched. Tantalisingly slowly, the tips of his teeth brushed against her clit, sending shockwaves of sensation through every part of her. His tongue flicked and she jolted, and digging her fingers into her palms she hissed his name.

He chuckled, and the sound sent tiny flames curling through every part of her.

When he finally captured her in his mouth, and plunged his tongue into her channel, it was like a dam breaking. She shattered into a thousand tiny pieces, and still unrelentingly his tongue lashed against her until she was fisting his hair with hands trying to pull his face away, trying to free herself from the onslaught of sensations, calling his name over and over, begging him although she wasn't quite sure whether she wanted him to stop, or carry on. He finally pulled away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

When she came back to herself he was laughing, chuckling against her heat.

"Again, I think."

She wasn't sure if she could again, but before she could voice this thought his mouth was back on her sex. She was plunged headlong back into a world of pleasure and altogether far too much sensation. Again she gripped his hair in her fists and tried to pull his mouth away, but he grabbed her wrists, pinned them to the bed, and carried on lathing with his tongue, like a cat with its cream. It was too much. It was far too much, she was writhing, arching off the bed. Somehow she was already so close. Again.

Suddenly, he released her. And climbing up her body, he reached across her to his bedside drawer, she knew this time that he was fetching another condom. "I need to be inside you," he said, his voice like the crunch of gravel.

She scrambled back to rest, half upright and watched him, her head spinning. How was he erect again, so soon? He lifted her into a higher sitting position against the large and padded headboard, gripping her jaw so he could turn her face towards him and stared into her eyes

And he was fucking her again, grinding his pelvic bone against her clit as he moved against her. With one hand, he held the headboard above her head, with the other he held her throat, those steely grey eyes never once leaving hers. His grip was gentle but firm and spoke to her of a deep seated need to possess her. She clung to his shoulders, and again there was the sensation that she was being carried along by a storm.

In no time at all she was reaching for another climax.

She began to tremble, but still she wasn't quite able to let go. Of course Gabriel noticed this change in her instantly. Releasing the headboard, he slid his hand down between them and found her clit.

She hissed his name. Her toes curled.

"Good girl" he crooned, moving his hand faster while he continued to fuck her. "Come on that's right, come for me again." She cried out, a strangled moan laced with frustration, she was wound so tight, she wasn't sure how she could take any more pleasure, but with the firm press of his thumb he managed to wrench another orgasm from her all the same.

He held her against him, while her pleasure ripped through her, his arm wrapped around her waist so they were pressed into each other. It was only when she stopped shaking that he moved again; flipping her round onto her front, and surging into her anew.

He wasn't gentle this time. He wasn't sweet. He drove into her, and the pleasure was so intense she screamed his name. And still he rode her, unrelenting, his large hands gripping her waist, his fingers digging into her buttocks. Pushing his knee further between her thighs, forcing her to open to him. Her sense of his possession was total. She was still drifting along on the remnant pleasure of her third climax when she felt his rhythm change. He became more frantic, and yet somehow more focused and a frisson of delight flickered in her. He found her hands again and trapped them above her head, so she was helpless to move. When he came it was with a roar, so deep and primal it seemed to vibrate through her. It gave her a sense of profound and unexpected joy that she could bring this man, this glorious being enough pleasure that he would express it in such a vocal way. He fell forward, and she welcomed the weight of him, pinning her to the mattress beneath him.

For a long while they lay still, and Jess wondered if he'd fallen asleep again, but then his voice interrupted her thoughts, and the clarity in it told her he was wide awake

"Am I too heavy on you?"

"A little."

He rolled to his side and wrapped his arms around her, hauling her against his chest.

She was exhausted, tingly all over. Tentatively she lifted her hand to her face and pressed Her fingers to her lips. They felt numb from overuse, her face was tender from the constant brush of his stubble.

For a long time they lay in silence, while he traced circles on the plains of her shoulders with his fingertips, and she drifted in a state of blissful calm. A small age seemed to pass before he next spoke.

"Have I worn you out, Jess?"

She nodded, floaty, unsure if she was capable of articulating words.

"Good." He pulled her more tightly into his embrace, and tucked her head under his chin. "I don't want you sneaking out on me again while I'm asleep."

She was too tired to think too hard about that.

***

Jess woke with a start.

For a fleeting moment she had no idea where she was, she had no idea of the time. She sat up and looked around her. It was still dark. She scrambled out of the bed and followed the sound of frying into the palatial living space. Gabriel was standing, with his back to her, in an immaculate kitchen, cooking what smelled like bacon.

He hadn't heard her, so for a moment she could just watch him. He wasn't wearing a shirt, his feet were bare. He was just in a pair of worn grey trackies that hung low on his narrow hips. She swallowed, and blinked and tried to acclimatise to the sudden unexpected direction things had suddenly taken. He twisted to grab a plate, and her cover was blown.

"You're awake," he said, abandoning breakfast, crossing the kitchen in long strides and stopping in front of her.

She nodded.

"Great timing!"

"What time is it?"

"Early, we don't have to be in the office for hours, back to bed." He kissed her lightly on the lips, And taking her shoulders, he spun her around and gently pushed her out of the kitchen.

She sat on the edge of the bed, bewildered at the interaction. She hadn't had much time to figure out how to respond, when he swept in with a tray.

Jess felt self conscious, but she was ravenous. It had been almost twenty four hours since she'd eaten. She hadn't been able to stomach her soup after the incident in the kitchen, and of course they hadn't eaten dinner either. She tore through the BLT he'd made her, gulping mouthfuls of coffee to help wash it down.

All the while, Gabriel watched her, with an entirely different kind of hunger etched onto his features. The moment she finished eating, he took the plate and her half drunk cup of coffee out of her hand and placed them on the floor beside the bed.

Her mouth fell open, but before she could object to his highhanded behaviour, he silenced her with a kiss. Then worked his way down. Her stomach flipped when he flicked his tongue over her nipple. He settled himself between her legs and trapping her wrists so she couldn't move, he got to work.

As his tongue lathed against her clit, she began to tremble. When Gabriel stopped abruptly, she bit her tongue so she wouldn't speak. She only just didn't beg him to carry on. Despite her silence, he seemed to be well aware of her frustration. As he lifted her into his arms and carried her into the bathroom, she could feel his dark laughter vibrating through her chest.

Jess gazed around the room with wide eyes. He placed her gently on her feet so he could reach in and fiddle with the settings in the shower. She hadn't taken much notice of her surroundings when she'd stumbled in and splashed water on her face the night before.

He flicked the shower on and pulled her into the cubicle with him. The water was perfect, it washed all her fatigue away. He wrapped in his arms and pulled her against him. "This shower might be my favourite thing about this place." He said against her hair.

As the warm water and steam surrounded them. Jess felt a sudden wave of emotion that took her a moment to understand. She felt cared for, looked after, and she realised she hadn't felt like that in a while.

Since she'd returned to London, she'd been so busy, rushing around, getting home as quickly as possible everyday. Every spare minute was taken up with cooking and cleaning and taking Gran to appointments, going to the pharmacy to get her prescriptions, and walking Arthur, Joanie's little jack russell. It wasn't that she minded, she honestly didn't mind, but it was a lot. She hadn't really considered how much before.

He let her go, and reached for a bottle of shower gel. As he lathered it through her hair she whimpered his name, without meaning to.

He growled his approval. "I love hearing you say my name."

Not for the first time since she'd arrived at Gabriel's, she felt something she couldn't give a name to, flutter in her chest.

He carried on down her arms, over her breasts. The shower gel smelled of cedarwood and vetiver and well, Gabriel. She smiled at the idea of being able to smell him all day.

He spun her around and rinsed her off with the shower head. When he next spoke, he sounded different. "Rest your hands on the tiles in front of you." There was a hard edge to his voice. This was an order.

She did as she was told.

"Stand with your legs apart." Again she had no choice but to obey, he was already leaning over her, nudging her legs apart with his knee.

He hit a button on the control panel and the sound of the water intensified. At the blast of pulsing heat against her pussy she was right back at the precipice of an orgasm.

When he cut the jet, she thought she might die of frustration. She didn't bite her tongue this time. She swore. She was already over sensitised from earlier, and he knew it. The bastard.

"Gabriel!" She hissed, not caring about the thread of desperation she could hear in her voice.

A blast of water hit again, and then it stopped once more. Beyond forming coherent words, she released a sob and arched towards him.

When he spoke this time, his voice was laced with a velvety darkness Jess hadn't heard before. "You have the most delectable arse I've ever seen. Watching you writhe for me is such a turn on."

She bit down another whimper and squeezed her eyes tight shut.

"I could watch you for hours."

She sobbed out his name again.

"I suppose we have to get to work though." And sighing theatrically, he turned the jet of water on her again and an orgasm so intense hit almost immediately. Before her knees had a chance to give, he wrapped an arm around her and braced her against his chest.

When she staggered out of the shower moments later, her legs were still jelly, and there were stars on the periphery of her vision.

Gabriel on the other hand was unnervingly composed as he sat her on the edge of the bath, and dried her off. She felt briefly self conscious until he handed her a toothbrush, still in its packet. Did he do this a lot? She didn't ask. She thought he could tell that she was thinking it though.

She hadn't wanted to arrive at work in the same clothes as she had been wearing the day before. He said she could change into some of theirs, but even so. Instead she was speeding through the London streets in a taxi, as the sky swiftly brightened outside.