Robin Schone by Gabriel's Woman (10 ebook reader TXT) 📕

know, Victoria?”

“I want to know what he did to you.”

Memory slashed through the heat of the water pounding his body and the softness of Victoria’s skin.

Pain. Pleasure.

“You saw men fucking men through the transparent mirrors, Victoria.” Gabriel filled her ear with his

breath. “Do you want me to tell you what it’s like to be fucked in the ass? Or do you want me to tell you

what it’s like to be raped?”

Water-beaded copper framed Victoria’s chin. “I know what it’s like to want to be a part of someone,

Gabriel.”

Last night she had been a part of him, as he had been a part of her.

The darkness of the truth lapped at Gabriel until he felt he would explode.

“I was not apart from one man,” he said seductively.

He had never been apart from one man.

Michael. Michel.

For a while, Gabriel had thought he, too, could be an angel.

The second man had shown him what he was.

Con. Fumier.

“He hurt you, Gabriel.” Steam blurred Victoria’s face. “I want to take away the hurt.”

Had the man or men who had taken John hurt his body as well as his soul? Gabriel wondered.

Would his widow take away his pain?

Had Anne taken away Michael’s pain?

Who will you tak e comfort in ... Gabriel?

No one. Jamias.

Never.

Gabriel did not deserve comfort.

“And you think you can take away my hurt by doing. . . what, Victoria?” Gabriel queried lightly, sharing

his breath, his heat, the water that deluged his body. “By letting me rape you?”

“I want you to show me what he did to you.”

Water dribbled off Gabriel’s nose onto Victoria’s cheek; it crawled between their bodies and danced on

the tip of his cock, washing away his tears. “Which man, Victoria, do you want to know about?”

“I want to know what the man who hurt you did to you,” Victoria’s voice echoed inside the copper hood,

goading him, galvanizing him. “And then I want you to show me what the man who made you beg for

pleasure did to you. I want you to make me beg, Gabriel.”

Gabriel had not begged for pleasure—he had begged for release. And then he had begged for death.

He did not want Victoria to beg—not Victoria with her hungry blue eyes.

“Do you know where men are raped, Victoria?” Gabriel murmured provocatively. Erect flesh nestled

between the crevice of her buttocks. Chest cradling the narrowness of her shoulders and her spine. The

crown of his cock throbbing with each breath, each heartbeat. Water buffeting them both.

It would be so easy to kill her. . .

“Yes, I know where men are raped,” Victoria said through the pounding of the shower.

But she didn’t know. Men weren’t raped through their bodies; men were raped through their minds.

Twisting his torso, Gabriel reached back and jabbed his fingers into the jar of cream Victoria had set on

top of the cabinet encasing the tub. They came out coated with thick white cream.

Water beaded on his ringers, pearled on the cream.

A part of him yet apart from him.

But he didn’t want to be apart from one woman.

“Do you want to know what I felt, Victoria?” he goaded her. Killing her. Killing himself. “Do you want

to know what it’s like to be fucked in the ass?”

“Yes.” Victoria threw her head back, swallowing water, swallowing fear. Her hands remained flat on

the copper wall, a willing sacrifice. “I want to know what you felt.”

But it wasn’t what Gabriel wanted.

He didn’t want a woman to know what he felt.

He didn’t want anyone to ever know what he had felt.

Easing back, Gabriel brought his hand between their bodies. He smeared himself with cold, slick cream

—the crown, the shaft; Victoria’s buttocks teased the back of his hand and his knuckles.

Firmly grasping himself, he encircled her with the lubricated head of his penis . . . slipping, sliding,

enticing, beguiling. “Is this what you want, Victoria?” he crooned. A whore by nature as well as by training.

Victoria tensed, unprepared for either pleasure or pain.

Last night he had breached her virginity, a thin layer of flesh that he had gradually peeled back to allow

one finger, two fingers, three.

He had not ruptured it, neither with his fingers nor his cock.

A clever whore would repair the hymen and sell it again.

But Victoria wasn’t a whore.

Her virginity could be reclaimed. If he took Victoria now, she would never be able to claim innocence

again. She couldn’t heal Gabriel; but she could be destroyed by him.

He didn’t want to hurt her.

What Gabriel wanted hadn’t stopped him in the past.. .From whoring. From killing.

He knew it wouldn’t stop him now.

Circling, circling, Gabriel pressed inward. And almost collapsed at the pleasure that shot through his

testicles.

But he didn’t want the pleasure.

Victoria instinctively arched her body. Even in this she accepted him. She who had never known the

pain that men could give women. The pain that men could give men.

“Is it?” Gabriel whispered invitingly into Victoria’s hair, and her water-slickened cheek. Circling,

pressing, circling, pressing harder, circling, pressing harder still, wooing her body into accepting his as he

had been trained to do twenty-seven years earlier. “Is this what you want, Mademoiselle Childers?”

“Yes.” Victoria squeezed her eyelids together and turned her head into his lips, seeking solace in the

man she had invited to rape her.

So that