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remember closing her eyes; she did not remember lying down.

All she could feel was the emptiness inside her body and the tiny aftershocks that continued to dance on

her clitoris.

The dull clang of metal impacting wood penetrated her consciousness.

“What did you see, Victoria?”

Victoria had seen . . . “Light.”

She sluggishly turned her head toward Gabriel and the dull clang.

Gabriel reached into an open tin. His mouth was wet and shiny.

From her.

“What I wanted, Victoria,” he grated tautly.

It took Victoria several seconds to remember what was inside the tin ... It took her several more

seconds to realize what Gabriel was doing.

A silver drop of moisture glimmered on the tip of the large, plum-shaped crown . . . bite, Madame René

had called it. Pinstriped wool framed a bush of dark blond pubic hair. Smearing the silver drop of moisture

over the purple-hued head, he expertly smoothed up a rubber sheath, one inch, three inches, five inches,

seven inches, nine inches...

Her stomach convulsively tightened.

Victoria’s gaze jerked up to Gabriel’s face.

She did not recognize it. His lips were drawn, skin darkly flushed, eyes silver shards of light.

“You said anything and everything I wanted.”

Yes.

“This is what I want,” he rasped. “I want to bury myself inside you, and then I want you to come until

you make me come.”

Gabriel looked as though he expected her to object.

Victoria fought for air. For one paralyzing second she did want to object.

“That sounds”—terrifying, exhilarating—“heavenly.”

His sheathed manhood jutted out from the pinstriped wool trousers. “There is no heaven, Victoria, but I

can show you hell.”

Victoria did not doubt it.

Gabriel knelt on the floor. He bowed his head, silver hair sweeping his forehead.

Wool scratched her inner thighs. Rubber prodded ungiving flesh.

Victoria edged back on the bed.

The rubber was far, far thicker than had been his fingers.

A finger lightly pressed her clitoris.

Victoria’s breath caught in her throat. She was riveted by silver eyes.

“Take me, Victoria,” he said rawly. “I took your hymen with my fingers. Now take me ...”

“You’re larger than your fingers ...”

But smaller than his hand . ..

Gabriel circled her clitoris, lightly, beguilingly. Her choice...

Victoria’s muscles unclenched.

A fist...

It felt like a fist prodded her, impossibly large ... and then it was impossibly lodged inside her.

He circled her clitoris, light, hard, slow, sure ... Pain. Pleasure...

Victoria’s body opened, impossibly, for more. More pain. More pleasure . . .

The pain stilled; the pleasure did not.

A heartbeat throbbed inside her.

Harsh breath filled the room. “Come for me, Victoria, and I’ll give you another inch.”

The fist lodged inside her portal remained steadfast; the finger circling her did not. It slipped down . ..

tested the tightness of the thin ring of flesh circling him, glided back up, slippery wet. . . circling round, and

round, and round, lacking depth; she needed him deeper...

Victoria cried out. And convulsed. “God!”

The large fist-shaped crown that stretched her beyond bearing sank inside . .. two inches deep.

“What did you see?” he grated.

Light. Darkness.

Silver. Gray.

“Light. . .”

Circling. Circling.

“Gabriel...”

Victoria’s body yawned independently. Jagged sensation ripped through her.

He sank inside her another inch .. . three inches deep.

Victoria panted for air.

One inch per orgasm ... Six more to go ...

“What did you see, Victoria?”

She throbbed. He throbbed.

The bedcovers clenched inside her fists throbbed.

“What did you see, Victoria?” he repeated tensely.

“Light,” she said stubbornly. There was no darkness in pleasure ... No sin in loving... “Oh, God”—the

sound ripped out of her throat— “Gabriel... I can’t... Gabriel...”

“What, Victoria?” Sweat dripped like tears down Gabriel’s face. “What can’t you do?”

Or not do ...

He wanted her to stop him.

Victoria did not stop him.

“I need . . .” she gasped, the light of pending orgasm circling before her eyes, his finger circling her

clitoris.

“What do you need?” Gabriel crooned. Holding himself back from the pleasure.

Anger tore through Victoria.

He must feel it. How could he not feel her flesh caressing him, milking him?

Gulping him?

“I need to have another orgasm.”

Gabriel gave her another orgasm. And then he gave her another inch.

She couldn’t breathe past the fist that lodged inside her vagina.

“What do you see, Victoria?”

“Light.”

Another orgasm. Another inch.

Five inches...

“What do you see?” he repeated. Wanting her to see the darkness that he saw.

“Light,” she gasped. Silver strands of hair haloed his head. “I see light.”

Victoria could no longer differentiate between pain and pleasure. She pushed up for another orgasm,

another inch of Gabriel.

Six inches .. . seven inches . . . eight inches. . . .

“What do you see, Victoria?” Agony laced Gabriel’s voice.

His white linen shirt clung to his chest. The sweat-soaked linen revealed his every inhalation, his every

exhalation. His breath timed to the pulse that drummed inside her vagina and against her clitoris.

Victoria with difficulty focused on him and not the fading orgasm that fluttered into the need for another.

There was no room inside her body for breath, thought.

The fist inside her plugged her every sense.

Gabriel’s body. Gabriel’s need.

She would die if he did not stop; she would die if he did.

An angel’s pleasure ...

Gabriel’s circling finger would not give Victoria respite.

What did she see .. . ?

“I see you, Gabriel,” Victoria gasped. “When I come, I see you.”

Pain.

The pain on his glistening face sealed the air inside her lungs. The impact of his body knocked it out.

Gabriel slammed into her, against her, flesh, hair, wool trousers, past, present. At the same time another

orgasm slammed through her body.

A voice cried out. Victoria did not know who it belonged to, her or Gabriel. His heartbeat was hers, her

flesh was his, the orgasm that ripped through them was theirs.

Victoria knew that Gabriel had felt her pleasure. She knew it because he left

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