Gabriel's Rapture Reynard, Sylvain (literature books to read TXT) 📖

of other distractions. He was sure that she’d want the full university experience at Harvard without the pressure of planning a wedding. And there was still the question of what he would do—whether he would be able to take a sabbatical. That is, if he survived Christa Peterson’s harassment complaint.

Despite the fact that he found the words marry me on his tongue on more than one occasion, he bit them back. There would be a time and a place for a proposal. That time and place should be in their orchard, sacred as it was to both of them. Not to mention the fact that it would be a polite gesture to alert Tom to his intentions before broaching the topic with Julianne. Without doubt, he wanted her to be his wife. And no matter what the next few months brought, he would make her his.

Later that evening, Gabriel found himself brimming with emotion, the fruit of much contemplation and the pleasure he always found in Julianne’s company. They’d just returned from the resort restaurant. Julia had planned on visiting the washroom to clean the makeup from her face, but he caught her wrist and wordlessly led her to the bed.

He kissed her softly and began to undress her, his eyes shining with worship and need. He took his time, adoring shoulders and arms and naked skin, his mouth beginning to make eager promises as she arched beneath his touch.

He pulled her astride him, gazing up with an expression of wonder mixed with desire. She moved her hips to taunt him a little, closing her eyes in order to let the feeling take center stage.

After a few minutes, Gabriel flipped her so she was on her back and he was kneeling between her legs. She let out a cry as he entered her.

He stilled. “Are you all right?”

“Mmhmmm,” she hummed. “You just surprised me.” She brought her hands to rest on his back, urging him forward.

Gabriel liked her on top, she knew it. He would gaze up at her adoringly and touch and tease. He would praise her sexiness, for he knew that even after these few months she was slightly self-conscious at being so exposed. Julia was surprised that he moved them so his body was covering hers, his lips at her neck, when they’d enjoyed that position several times already.

A few more kisses and he was pressing a hand to her face, his eyes dark and desperate.

“Gabriel?” She searched his expression.

He closed his eyes and shook his head before opening them again.

Julia gaped at what she saw—insecurity, passion, hope, want, and need. She threw back her head from time to time as groans of pleasure escaped her lips.

“I need you,” he whispered against her throat as his movements increased to a fevered pitch. “I can’t lose you.”

Julia’s response was lost in a series of pants as she grew closer and closer to her release.

“Ah—ah, hell.” Gabriel cursed as he climaxed, knowing that Julia had yet to do so. He tried to keep moving, hoping that she would follow him, but it was not to be.

“Damn it. I’m sorry.” He hid his face against her skin.

“It’s all right. I enjoyed myself.” She tangled her fingers in his hair, tugging playfully, before pressing a kiss to his face. “And I’m glad you came.”

A self-deprecating mumble escaped him. He moved to lie beside her and began to pet between her legs, but she pressed her knees together. “You don’t need to do that.”

His eyes darkened with determination. “Yes, I do. Let me.”

She stilled his hand. “You aren’t going to lose me if you fail to give me an orgasm now and then.”

Gabriel’s expression tightened. “It’s embarrassing.”

“It’s life.” She kissed his nose. “I don’t expect you to be perfect, in bed or out of it.”

“Bless you for that.” He kissed her slowly, sighing when she pulled away to nest in his arms. “But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try.”

“Well, if you insist, there is something you could do for me…”

Gabriel moved so quickly Julia was torn between shock and the urge to laugh. But as soon as he touched her, she stopped laughing.

* * *

Later that evening Gabriel lay on his back in the center of the bed, underneath the mosquito netting. Julia rested her head just below his pectorals, her arm wrapped around his waist.

“Are you happy?” His voice came out of the candle-soaked darkness, as he ran his fingers over the top of her head and down to trace the curve of her neck.

“Yes. Are you?”

“More than I ever thought I could be.”

Julia smiled against his chest and kissed the skin there.

“Things seem—different since we came back from Italy,” he prompted, his hand still gliding across neck and shoulder.

“We have a lot to be grateful for. We have each other. I have Harvard. Doctor Nicole has been helping me. I feel like I’m finally putting the pieces back together.”

“Good,” he whispered. “And the way that we make love, in general, you’re happy with that?”

Now Julia lifted her head so she could gaze up into his concerned blue eyes. “Of course.” She laughed quietly. “You can’t tell?”

“I can tell that I please your body. But your body is not your mind, or your heart.”

He seemed embarrassed, and Julia repented of her decision to laugh.

“Tonight was an aberration. But even if it wasn’t, I’m sure we’d work through it. Are you happy with the way that we make love?” She sounded shy.

“Yes, very much. I feel it changing—I feel the connection deepening.” He shrugged. “I just wondered if you felt it too.”

“Sometimes I think this is a dream. Believe me, I’m happy.” She leaned up to kiss him and then rested her head on his chest again. “Why are you asking me these things?”

“Where do you see yourself in the future?”

“I want to be a professor. I want to be with you.” Julia’s voice was on the quiet side, but remarkably assertive.

He began threading the sheet in between his fingers. “Wouldn’t