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

pinched the tip of the condom. And then there were no blue veins,

no gradation of skin color, only a long, thick rubber sheath that ended in a curly thatch of brownish-blond

hair. A tiny nipple—the end of the condom—protruded from the bulbous head of his sheathed penis.

Victoria raised her eyelids.

Gabriel was prepared for her. “I am just over nine and one-half inches long when fully erect.”

Gabriel read Victoria’s thoughts inside her eyes. He waited for her to ask the question.

To pit one angel against another.

Victoria did not ask it. She did not need to know how Gabriel compared to another man. Instead she

asked, “Why did you leave space at the end of the condom?”

“For my sperm.”

Victoria had felt his seed spurt inside her other orifice, a hot jet of fluid. She wondered what it would feel

like spurting inside her vagina, bathing her womb.

Gabriel leaned over her and grasped her hands. “Remember...”

Victoria’s arms stretched over her head, fingers guided to cold metal. Closing his fingers around hers,

Gabriel locked their hands around the brass bed railing.

“Remember, Victoria. . .” Gabriel murmured, a whisper of breath caressing her cheek, manhood lightly

nudging her femininity.

“I remember, Gabriel.”

Slowly he sank down on top of her, a prickly blanket of human flesh, chest compressing her breasts,

stomach molding her stomach, hips sinking between her thighs.

Victoria remembered .. . how cold and barren her life had been. Because of one man’s hatred of

women.

Victoria remembered ... the pain Gabriel had experienced. Because of one man’s ... what?

She did not know why the second man had hurt Gabriel.

She did not know why he had not killed Gabriel when he had been chained and helpless. Begging to die.

She did not know how love turned into hatred. She only knew that it did.

A husband’s love for his wife.

A brother’s love for his sister.

The love between two angels.

Cold air surrounded her right hand—her knuckles, her palm. With his left hand Gabriel found the core of

her vulva. Nippled rubber seared her, stretched her, penetrated her, filled her.

Gasping, Victoria convulsively grasped the brass rails in both hands.

“Don’t ever forget what I am”—scorching breath filled her lungs, a scalding tongue rimmed her lips— “

or what I can do ...”

Victoria could see every pore in Gabriel’s marble-perfect skin, could count every dark, thick eyelash

framing his eyes, could feel every nerve inside her body stretched to accommodate the rubber-sheathed

penis that pulsed inside her.

A pale circle shone inside his eyes—her face. Did Gabriel see himself inside her eyes? “I remember

everything you’ve ever said, Gabriel.”

You have hungry eyes. Like Michael’s.

It wasn’t whoring that made me what I am, it was loving.

There were two angels . .. I didn’t k now they were angels.

I wanted to have eyes that hungered. ..

How could Gabriel not see the hunger inside his own eyes?

“And knowing where I came from”—hot breath filled her mouth; her vagina was gorged on his manhood

—”knowing what I am, do you want me, Victoria?”

Victoria did not have to pause to think about her answer. “Yes,” she said, and cried out at the tunneling

flesh that lodged inside her throat and knocked the breath out of her lungs.

Gabriel swallowed Victoria’s cry. The mattress dipped, and then his left hand swallowed her right hand

and he was sucking her soul into his mouth, groin grinding into her groin, manhood knocking at the very

heart of her, mattress a squeaky symphony. He licked her tongue; he nibbled her tongue. He suckled her

tongue as if it were all that kept him alive. Gabriel licked and nibbled and suckled Victoria until his breath

became her breath, his flesh her flesh, and she didn’t care if she died; there was a pleasure beyond death.

A light beyond darkness.

The light was Gabriel—his tongue, his lips, his hands, his manhood that slickly pistoned between the lips

of her sex and the walls of her vagina.

Victoria’s back bowed, legs climbing hair-studded thighs, vagina yawning wider, taking him deeper . ..

“Look at me, Victoria.”

Victoria with difficulty opened her eyes.

Silver eyes were waiting for hers.

Slowly the silver shrank until all Victoria could see was Gabriel and a pale-faced woman reflected inside

his eyes. The images exploded in a burst of internal light.

A woman cried out; it was not followed by the cry of a man.

Slowly Gabriel’s face swam back into focus. Sweat beaded his face; agony laced his voice. “J’en vous

encore.”

I need more.

Words filled her mouth, her soul. “Give me more, Victoria.”

More pleasure. More orgasms.

“Show me the light.”

Victoria opened her body and gave Gabriel what he needed.

More pleasure. More orgasms.

Memories to lighten the darkness.

Chapter

21

Gabriel’s eyelids snapped open, heart pounding. Darkness blinded him; it smelled of sex and sweat.

Liquid heat pooled on his left thigh.

Instantly he remembered .. . pounding hot water. Suffocating steam. Victoria.

She had touched him.

She touched him still.

Her body lay curled in a ball against his left side, head pillowed on his shoulder, leg riding his thigh. The

liquid heat of her satisfaction saturated his leg.

His scalp tightened.

He could feel the second man; smell him over the scent of Victoria.

Gabriel had no weapons in either the nightstand or the armoire; his cane, along with the derringer, bowie

knife and Adams revolver were in his study.

He was Victoria’s only means of protection. And he was