Chapter 64
Bree
The softness of Gage’s sheet cradled me, his heavy body pressing down on mine as his lips moved hungrily against my own. The warmth of his skin, the weight of his body, the way he exhaled my name between every breath–it was everything I had missed. It didn’t feel like it had been mere weeks since camp, since we’d stolen our moments by the lake, laughing and trembling as the world around us faded away. No, it felt like lifetimes had passed, and now, finally, I was where I was meant to be.
Nothing had ever felt this good. Nothing Oliver had ever done to me came close to what Gage gave with every touch, every movement, every low sound rumbling in his chest. He didn’t just touch my body–he touched something deeper, something that had been waiting for him since that first night at camp. And now, as I lay beneath him, my breath catching with every kiss, I was ready to drown in that feeling again.
The slit in my dress parted easily, allowing me to cradle him between my thighs. The rough denim of his jeans rubbed against the delicate fabric of my underwear, creating friction that sent shivers spiraling up my spine. Normally, I would’ve worn shorts underneath–out of
habit, out of modesty, out of wanting to feel protected. But Savannah had convinced me not to tonight, and for once, I was glad I’d listened. Because right now, I could feel everything- the heat of him, the weight, the pressure–and I wanted it all.
I wanted Gage to see me as desirable, to look at me like I was the only thing that mattered. And the way his eyes roamed over me, dark and intent, told me he already did.
His right arm braced above me, elbow sinking into the mattress, the muscles in his bicep flexing with every subtle shift of his weight. His left hand, though, was everywhere. It mapped me like I was something sacred–his thumb tracing the corner of my jaw, his palm gliding down my side, then hiking my thigh higher around his hip until I could feel him completely. When his hand finally settled over my breast, the warmth of his palm through the thin fabric made my pulse skip.
My own hands wandered restlessly–over his broad shoulders, through his hair, down his chest until I could feel the hard lines of his abs. Gage was a living masterpiece, every part of him sculpted from strength and purpose. His skin was hot beneath my touch, his body moving with precision, with control, as though every small motion was meant to worship me.
His tongue teased mine in a rhythm that felt achingly familiar. It was dominance laced with tenderness, possession balanced with care. He knew what he wanted–and God, I wanted him to take it—but he never pushed too far. He knew exactly where my boundaries were, and he stayed right on the edge of them, making every second feel like a slow unraveling.
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I slipped my hands beneath his t–shirt, feeling the heat radiating off his body. The muscles in his stomach tensed as I dragged my palms up, fingertips tracing the faint trail of hair leading up to his chest. His breath hitched when I brushed over his ribs, and I smiled against his lips, loving that even Gage Simmons could lose control with me.
By the time I had pushed his shirt up to his chest, my own lungs were burning, my mind dizzy with want. His skin was so warm, almost feverish, like he carried a flame inside him and I
was the only one allowed to touch it. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him to stop, to pull back even an inch. I needed him there, pressing into me, surrounding me, reminding me what it felt like to be completely loved.
Gage broke the kiss, pushing himself up and sitting back on his knees right in front of me. His sudden absence felt like a sting, like a breath I couldn’t catch, and a whimper escaped me before I could stop it. My hands reached out instinctively, almost clawing for him, like his pulling away had hurt me on some primal level I couldn’t name.
But the ache dissolved the moment he moved. With one smooth, practiced motion, he reached behind his neck, grabbed the back of his shirt, and pulled it over his head. The fabric slid over his skin like it belonged to him, his muscles shifting as he stripped. He tossed it carelessly onto the floor, but his eyes never left me–not for a second. They were dark and molten and heavy with intent, drinking me in until I felt like my body might combust under the weight of his gaze.
“You’re so f*****g beautiful,” he rasped, his voice rough and thick, like gravel coated in honey.
The
way he said it made my stomach tighten and my heart stutter. Lust clung to every syllable, making me want to arch for him, bare myself for him. It was the kind of tone that made my skin hum, that made my body respond before my mind could catch up.
His hands slid to my waist, big and warm, splaying his fingers wide over the curve of me before he gave a slight, possessive squeeze. “I feel like a goddamn kid being let loose in a theme park,” he muttered, and the image made me let out a shaky laugh, heat streaming into my chest and down, pooling low in my belly.
The sound of my laugh seemed to spark something in him. He reached for the string at the side of my dress, tugging at it until the fabric began to fall away, one slow inch at a time. He handled me like I was precious, like I was a present to be unwrapped carefully. His fingers brushed my skin as he eased the dress down, baring me inch by inch until the green lace I’d chosen just for tonight came into view.
A guttural groan tore from his throat, his eyes darkening further as they raked over me, lingering at the swell of my breasts like he was starving. “And I’m gonna try every f*****g ride, “he ground out, voice low and heavy. His hands slid down my thighs, fingers dragging against sensitive skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake. In one swift motion, he hooked his
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arms under my thighs, pulling them apart as he shifted back over me, effectively opening me up for him, making me gasp.
“God, Bree,” he moaned, aligning his crotch with mine again, the hard bulge of his jeans. pressing firmly against my core. “I’m never gonna stop riding.”
A sharp, needy moan broke from me, my head tipping back, exposing my neck like I was offering it to him. Being under him like this felt like worship. His heat against mine, his weight, the sheer intensity in his eyes–it made me feel like a goddess before a god who couldn’t get enough.
“Please, Gage,” I whimpered, my hands finding his, fingers clutching like he was the only thing keeping me tethered. “Please.”
His groan vibrated against my skin as his lips descended, traveling from my neck down over the swell of my breasts. “All of this, all for me,” he claimed, his words a low growl as his tongue drew a hot path down between my breasts, then up the other side, slow and deliberate. Each stroke of his tongue was a promise and a threat rolled into one.
I lifted my hips, grinding my core against him, shivering at the friction and the way it sent shocks of heat through my body. I needed more–so much more. My body was strung so tight it felt like I might unravel with a single touch. “Please,” I begged again, my voice breaking, desperate.
I just needed that first shattering release to calm my nerves, to ground me. But deep down, I knew the truth–I knew Gage wouldn’t stop at one. He’d keep going until I couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, until every last drop of pleasure had been wrung from me and all that was left was the sound of my own breathless moans and his name on my lips.
“What do you want, gorgeous?” he asked, his teeth playing with the edge of the lace hugging my breast. “Tell me what you want.”
Did I really have to say it? Did I really have to spell it out? A part of me wanted it to just happen, to not have to bare myself like that. Because I couldn’t help but wonder–what if he didn’t want that? What if he thought I was needy? What if he thought I was disgusting for wanting the things I wanted?
But then I looked down. Our eyes locked, and I saw the almost crazed expression on his face -the way lust clouded his green eyes. I saw the hunger there, the barely restrained urges flickering just beneath the surface.
A new kind of boldness lurched from inside me, the words tumbling breathlessly out before I could contain them. “I want to c*m on your tongue.”
A delicious smile curled his lips, his eyes returning to their ministrations on my breasts. His
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teeth sank into the flesh, his lips hollowing slightly as he sucked, creating another mark right there–branding me yet again.
A moan slipped from my lips, my head tilting back, my body giving in to the pleasure he handed out so easily.
His mouth descended, kissing every inch of my body as he moved down. His fingers curled inside my panties before he pulled them down my legs. He threw them aside, just like he had done with his shirt, before his hands were back on me, spreading my thighs wide.
“f**k, just look at you,” he groaned, his eyes trained right on my core. “Already so goddamn wet for me, gorgeous.”
Then he leaned back down, his tongue swiping through my core, gathering up the wetness that had slowly been growing since he first laid his hands on me. A deep, guttural moan left my lips, my hands shooting to his hair as he started swirling his tongue around my clit.
His hands stayed on my thighs, keeping me spread open for him, like he needed me more than he needed oxygen. His tongue moved fast–circling, pressing, thrumming against me- making me scream out in pleasure.
Gage wasn’t being methodical, he wasn’t taking his time. He had me barreling toward my orgasm within seconds, groaning against me as I chanted his name over and over again. But I didn’t care. I didn’t care about him taking his time or slowing down. I wanted to explode for him–to detonate like a bomb–and then to feel him inside me.
We could slow down later. We could take our time. Because right now, all I wanted was to feel him f*****g me into the mattress, showing me just how hungry he truly was for me.
My body started shaking, my toes curling, the warmth in my lower belly expanding exponentially. Gage’s hands tightened on my thighs, not letting me close them, not letting me move away from the most intense pleasure. Instead, he held me down, his green eyes locked on my face from between my legs, and then he sucked my clit into his mouth. The pain seared through me, but in the most delectable way I had ever felt before. His tongue moved across the sting right after, the softness against the roughness. And then I exploded–my body convulsing, my entire being floating above us as I screamed out to every deity I knew.
He didn’t stop as I convulsed, my core clenching and releasing, the fluids rushing out of me. No. He kept going, groaning against my core as everything turned incredibly sensitive. My hands ripping at his hair didn’t slow him down, and my begging him to stop did nothing but make his hands tighten on my thighs.
And then, it felt like I entered another dimension. My core quite literally exploded as my orgasm reached a new height I had never experienced before. My mouth was open, but no
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sound escaped, everything wound so tightly I could barely breathe–and then it all came crashing down on me yet again.
“God, Gage, f**k!” I screamed, my voice leaving my chest in a rush of breath.
And then, finally, he released me, his tongue moving away from my throbbing clit, the pressure from my thighs easing, allowing me to close them, hiding from a pleasure I had never known before.
When my eyes finally stopped rolling inside my head, I looked up at him, seeing Gage kneeling right before me. He still had that crazed, hungry look on his face, his eyes roving over my entire body as he methodically opened his jeans, popping the button and pulling down the zipper.
He pulled them down, his hard c**k springing free from his boxers. It was pornographic to look at the size of him, the way the tip glistened, almost angry with redness.
“Spread your legs, gorgeous,” he rasped, his voice so sure, so hardened by lust.
And I did.
Emilia M
Have I told you yet how much I love Gage? O
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