Robin Schone Gabriel's Woman (best pdf ebook reader for android .txt) 📖

witnessed this act over and over during the night; it was far different witnessing a man kiss a

woman’s privates with Gabriel standing behind her.

“He is preparing her,” Gabriel said impassively.

He was not immune to what he witnessed. The intensity of his gaze scorched her skin.

“What is he preparing her for?” Victoria insisted.

The woman’s legs came up; her heels notched the edge of the bed. She reached for the man’s head, to

hold him in place.

Victoria clenched her fingers.

The younger man eluded the older woman. Reaching for the squat white jar on the nightstand, he

scooped the fingers of his right hand into it.

Gabriel was left-handed.

The thought came from nowhere.

The man brought his lubricated hand between the woman’s splayed legs.

Victoria squeezed her thighs together.

The woman threw her head back, face contorted with ecstasy. Or perhaps it was contorted with agony.

“What is he doing?” Victoria breathed.

“He’s stretching her.”

Victoria felt the woman’s penetration all the way up to her throat.

Her breath caught in her throat. “With his whole hand?”

“He will start out with one or two fingers.”

Victoria remembered Gabriel’s fingers.

They were long. White.

The young man leaned over and kissed the older woman between her thighs. He did not remove his

hand.

Victoria did not have to see what he did in order to feel it.

She trembled .. . with desire. Earlier she had trembled with fear.

“What does a woman feel like, when a man has his fingers inside her?”

Even Victoria’s voice shook.

“Like hot, wet silk.”

The anger in Gabriel’s voice took her by surprise.

His eyes in the mirror were not looking at Victoria’s reflection; they stared through the window. Gazing

into his past and seeing the women he had been with.

The women who had begged him for their pleasure and who had then begged him for release.

But he had not begged them.

Gabriel had only begged for release once in his life. A rape of the senses.

Victoria saw the pleasure Gabriel had given women in the twist of his mouth. In the silver eyes she saw

Gabriel’s pain.

The older woman on the other side of the glass tossed her head back and forth, silk sliding, hair tangling.

Her breasts quivered, as if she ran a race.

A race to completion.

Gabriel ran with her.

The woman’s mouth opened—to take in air or to cry out, Victoria did not know which.

Gabriel was lost—in the memories of pleasure or in the memories of pain, she did not know which.

“What do you feel?” she asked Gabriel. Aching with pleasure. Aching with pain. “How many fingers do

you have inside her? One or two?”

“Five,” Gabriel said raggedly.

Victoria couldn’t breathe.

Five fingers jabbed deep inside her.

“I want to feel her pleasure,” he rasped. “I want to be a part of her pleasure—just once, and not apart

from it. I want to be a part of a woman that I am pleasuring.”

And not apart from her.

It should not be possible to splinter with pain at the same time that one swelled with desire: it was.

“This woman. Does she”—Victoria marshaled her voice—”does she enjoy having five of your fingers

inside her?”

A drop of moisture beaded on Gabriel’s forehead; it sparkled like a diamond in the dim light. “A woman’s

vagina is created to stretch.”

But surely not to accommodate an entire hand.

So why did Victoria’s body yawn to accept it?

“How did you . . . penetrate her with five fingers?”

“One finger at a time.” The drop of sweat disappeared inside Gabriel’s eyebrow. “I spent three hours

preparing her body.”

Victoria imagined receiving one finger, two, three, four, five. A finger at a time. Hour after hour. Panting

breath ticking off the minutes ... body opening ... lubricated hand slipping . .. entering through the ring of her

portal.

Pleasure building.

Ecstasy. Agony.

“Tell me,” Victoria said, breathing in time to the rise and fall of the older woman’s breasts. “Tell me

what you feel.”

Silver lights glittered inside Gabriel’s reflected gaze.

“I feel a woman’s clitoris against my tongue.”

Victoria’s clitoris swelled to the point of pain.

“It’s so hard it feels like it will split open with her need to orgasm.” Gabriel’s voice scraped Victoria’s

skin. “My fingers are fluted, my thumb tucked into them. The woman’s vagina is so hot it burns. I can feel

her flesh stretch—taking my fingertips ... my fingers . . . first knuckle deep . . . second knuckle deep ... the

width of my palm. The walls of her vagina are forcing my fingers to curl into a fist. All I can see and smell

and hear and feel is her. The smell of a woman’s need. The suction of a woman’s flesh. The sight of a

woman’s stomach tightening.”

Victoria felt Gabriel’s fingertips slide into her. .. first knuckle deep . .. second knuckle deep . .. the width

of his palm. Her stomach tightened, filled with an angel. ..

The body of the woman on the other side of the mirror bowed until only her head and her heels supported

her weight. Her mouth opened wide in a guttural cry.

“I feel her orgasm bursting over me,” Gabriel said, breath harsh in the narrow corridor. “It clenches

around my wrist and squeezes my fist until there is only her pleasure.”

Slowly the older woman’s body sank down to the bed, body lax.

The younger man raised his head: his features were strained with his need.

Victoria had seen many different types of need this night. She had seen the need for intimacy, the need

for sexual gratification, and occasionally, in the eyes of both patron and