“Oh, you understand me, pet.” Gabriel chuckled, leaning closer and pressing a soft kiss on the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. “You understand every word I’ve said. And you will do as I ask because you want to please me, isn’t that right?”

Oh, she did want to please him. To the point she would willingly forfeit her soul to the Devil.

Her head bobbed with desperate jerks.

“Tsk. Tsk. Words, Celia. Use them.” He slicked a finger through her wetness and pushed the piece of fruit more firmly into her folds until it nudged against the button of nerves there.

Celia swore she saw stars. She moaned, caught on the edge of insanity and ecstatic to be there. This man held the unique ability to turn her into a greedy, trembling mess. “Yes. Yes. I want to please you, Gabriel. I shall do as you say. Oh, please.”

“There’s my good girl.”

Gabriel’s breath was so hot on her exposed flesh that Celia wondered if it might melt the sugar from the plum now wedged into her sex.

Their eyes met over the mound of skirts and her quivering stomach, and his command was a rough growl. “Remember, this dessert is mine. You will not come unless I grant permission. And, sugarplum? There are consequences for disobedience.”

Celia did not dare breathe as his head lowered and his hands slid around to cup the sides of her buttocks. In this position, he held her firm and slowly licked from her opening to the piece of fruit and back again, his tongue spearing inside her.

She almost exploded that very moment. Her legs shook as she staved off a multitude of sensations.

Gabriel licked and nibbled and lavished every bit of her flesh with his mouth. Every now and then, his nose would bump against the fruit, pushing it harder against her clitoris, and Celia would brace herself against the impending combustion. It happened often enough that she suspected this action was absolutely on purpose.

“Gabriel… Gabriel…” she moaned in supplication, her body on fire for him.

She could no longer take watching him feast on her. It was too much for the senses. Leaning back onto her elbows, her head tilted until all she could see was the sparkle of a crystal chandelier above her and the swirling design of the plaster ceiling.

“Do not come yet, ma chere femme. Not yet.” He began eating the fruit, his teeth occasionally grazing sensitive flesh and distracting her from the orgasm building inside her. And Celia thought she could obey him. She focused on the sting from his teeth as he feasted and was able to sway her body from its natural inclinations.

Realizing her strategy, Gabriel doubled his efforts, his mouth lush and sinful and so, so hot. The plum was certainly gone now, and there was nothing left but his mouth and tongue and the trembling of her body.

Then Gabriel slid two fingers inside her sheath, curving them upward and stroking a hidden spot inside her. Celia bucked wildly as he sucked her clitoris into his mouth with greedy intensity.