Gabriel: Lord of Regrets by Grace Burrowes - Lonely Lords 05 - Gabriel: Lord of Regrets

Author:Grace Burrowes - Lonely Lords 05 - Gabriel: Lord of Regrets [Burrowes, Grace]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Historical, Adult
ISBN: 9781402278754
Amazon: 1402278756
Barnesnoble: 1402278756
Goodreads: 17456364
Publisher: Sourcebooks Casablanca
Published: 2013-09-02T16:00:00+00:00

Nine

Gabriel answered Polly’s bewildered question by shifting himself closer to her, pressing his hard cock to her wet sex, and gliding along it with firm pressure. He managed to wrap one of her legs over his waist, so she was opened to him and at just the right angle.

She understood and tucked into him.

“Polonaise… you…”

She kissed him, and he was lost, swearing gutturally as his body thrust against hers. She clung to him with arms and legs and mouth, and met his rhythm so seamlessly he was soon spending against her, his seed spreading a thick heat between their bodies.

“I am undone.” He rolled to his back, separating their bodies and cursing himself for creating such untidy awkwardness. Certain intimacies should be shared only between familiars, and humping her like a university boy was one of them.

“Your back…” Polly kissed his cheek then flopped to the mattress. “I can’t move.”

“At least I got that much right,” Gabriel muttered. “You are not to budge. Just catch your breath.” He lay there, humoring his back as best he could, but really his back wasn’t suffering as much as his pride.

To come on her belly like that… he hadn’t planned it, and it had been… awful and wonderful and not well done of him, and he couldn’t wait to do it again, if that’s all she’d permit.

Though it wasn’t. He knew that with the certainty of a man in bed with the woman he was put on earth to pleasure. Polly had years and years of sexual neglect to make up for, and Gabriel would see to it personally she caught up as quickly and thoroughly as she wanted to.

For now, he contented himself with retrieving a handkerchief from the night table and passing it to his lady.

She dabbed at herself and returned his linen to him. “Your back is all right?”

“You’ve caught your breath,” Gabriel concluded, scrubbing at his belly. “If you dare to scold me for asking too much of my back, I will turn you over my knee and paddle you soundly.”

She lay naked among the tossed-back covers, firelight flickering over her curves and hollows, and damned if she didn’t look intrigued at his suggestion.

“You like to be spanked,” Gabriel lamented. “I’m told this is characteristic of prim, strong-willed women. All I ask is that you indulge only me in this regard. I’ve earned the privilege.”

“You are scandalous, Gabriel Wendover. Your back…”

“What back?” He tossed the cloth away and kissed her, mostly to keep her quiet.

“You think you can use kisses to keep me from scolding you,” she began, and while her words were tart, the way she traced his eyebrows with one finger was tender.

“You’re complaining about my kisses, Polonaise? Will you resort to begging?” He flopped down beside her, pleased all this thrashing about had not afflicted his back—yet.

She pursed her lips, her expression an adorable blend of satiety and frustration. “I do believe I might beg. This cannot be good.”

“It’s wonderful.” Gabriel reached over, felt his way down her belly, and tugged gently at her curls.

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