Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 44435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 222(@200wpm)___ 178(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 222(@200wpm)___ 178(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
I didn’t like being apart from him. Didn’t like not being able to reach him. Especially when I knew he was crying and needed me, even if he didn’t think so. And fuck, if me turning him down because I was trying to save his goddamn soul brought this on, then I wouldn’t fight it. I couldn’t. Not when it was hurting him so much.
I never wanted to be put on the endless list of people who hurt my sweet boy. But now I was.
I would do anything to resurrect that.
The lock clicked, and when I swung it open, Gabriel stumbled back. His eyes were red-rimmed and swollen, his nose red. He was a fucking mess.
Yet he still managed to be the most beautiful man I’d ever laid my fucking eyes on.
“I’m sorry, baby,” I rasped, wishing I could take back the last five minutes and we could start this all over—take it in a different direction. In a direction that wouldn’t leave him hurting inside. Wouldn’t leave my soul writhing in agony. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
“I hate you,” he cried. He stepped forward, a tear running down his cheek, and jabbed his finger against my chest. “I fucking hate—”
I wrapped my hand around his finger and yanked him to me. He crashed against my chest with a squeak. My arm banded around his waist, securing him to me, and when he opened his mouth to speak, I kissed him.
I kissed him like it was our last day on Earth.
I kissed him like he was the only thing that could make me stop hurting.
I kissed him like I was trying to mold our souls together.
Gabriel immediately went soft in my arms, his hands gripping my shirt tightly in his fists, his mouth warm and pliant beneath mine. He submitted to me so fucking easily—like it was second nature for him to follow my lead and give me every piece of him he could.
Did he have any idea how fucking perfect he was?
“I love you,” I rasped against his lips. “I could never love anyone the way I fucking love you, boy. Do you get that?” I grasped his face in my hands, stroking my thumbs over his damp cheeks, needing to see those freckles unmarred by tears. “I wanted to be the good guy. Wanted to sacrifice everything I wanted just so you could have a bright, happy future. But dammit, baby, if you need me to be selfish instead, I’ll gladly be the most selfish fucking asshole you’ve ever met.”
His bottom lip trembled, and he tugged me closer, his gray eyes glassy. “Please be selfish,” he croaked, desperation lacing his words.
I kissed him again, walking him back toward the bed. He stumbled a couple of times, too lost in our lips moving together and the way I stroked my tongue over his to really focus on where he was putting his feet. But that was fine because like always, I was right there to catch him and set him back on course. Always ready to protect him, guide him, and keep him safe.
“Tango,” he whimpered when the back of his legs bumped into the mattress.
I pulled back just enough to look down at him, my chest rising and falling as fast as his. I was so fucking drunk on him. There was no way I could turn back now. He’d begged me to be selfish, and fuck, I couldn’t deny him anything. “If you say yes, I’ll strip you and fuck you right now. Make you mine.” He licked his lips, his gray eyes going all hazy. It was so fucking beautiful. “If you say no, we’ll stop here. I’ll still be yours. Always. And we can take this slower.”
Even if my cock felt like it was going to rip right through my fucking jeans. If he didn’t want sex right now, I would stop everything and rub one out later, just as I’d been doing for fucking weeks now. Gabriel had enough trauma to supply a whole fucking military branch. I wouldn’t be surprised if he put a stop to this right now.
“Yes,” he whispered.
I blinked, staring at him for a moment as that single word—that fucking single word of permission—fell from his sweet lips. And then, I growled, nipping at his bottom lip before sucking it into my mouth. My patience snapped. Every bit of restraint, every goddamn moment of wanting him came spilling out of my pores. There was no stopping it now that my sweet boy had opened the flood gates.
“I don’t know if I can be gentle,” I rasped.
He shook his head. “I don’t want gentle, Tango. I just want you.”
I tugged his shirt over his head, and when he tugged at the fabric of mine, a low whine crawling up his throat, I tugged mine off too before tugging him against me, moaning at the sensation of us being skin-on-skin. He was so much smaller than me. My bigger, more muscular frame easily dwarfed his, and it only made me want him more.