Something was happening. A spark between her thighs. An igniting of flames. The impending explosion of the universe. All of it uncharted territory and the journey was orchestrated by Gabriel. The ridge of flesh beneath his trousers was made of stone, and with his encouragement, Celia moved helplessly against him.

“By God, you taste sweet as sugarplums,” Gabriel muttered, tearing his mouth from hers. He still held the back of her neck in his hand, but his grip shifted. Adjusted until the palm of his hand was under her chin, his thumb rubbing the sensitive spot just behind her earlobe. His fingers splayed out down the other side of her throat, following the vein thumping there with erratic desperation. “Go ahead, my lady. Take your pleasure, but do not forget I am the one giving you this.”

The grip on her throat tightened a fraction. His other hand remained locked on her back, directing her movements with breathtaking, unrelenting brutality. Celia was lost in a hazy world of intense desire as she rode him with layers of clothes between their bodies. Her pelvis ground against his with mysterious purpose, searching and desperate, climbing higher and higher until she was thrown over into an abyss where there was no bottom.

The world faded into gray, then burst into every imaginable color. Pleasure, unimaginable and pure, flooded her veins. She may have cried out, sobbing his name, but whatever sound emerged was swallowed by Gabriel’s mouth. He kissed her with the fierceness of a lion ripping apart a helpless lamb. While she shuddered atop him in complete surrender, Gabriel finally gentled the assault of his kiss. It melded into a series of soft nibbles on her bottom lip, his tongue engaged in leisurely sweeps of her mouth.

His grip loosened when Celia slumped against him. Even then, Gabriel did not release her. His fingers skated along the line of her throat in a soothing caress. The heavy weight of his palm on the base of her spine slowly eased up.

He did not utter a word, recognizing perhaps that she was a trembling mess of contradicting emotions. Between her legs, his erection still throbbed as the silence stretched on. Together, their breathing slowed until it was measured and even.

Celia blinked, gathering her senses with horrified awareness.

What had he done to her? Worse, why had she allowed it?

Shame crept along her insides until it bloomed red on her cheeks. She had used his body with his encouragement. And loved every second of it. Loved the feel of his cock pressing against her softness. Loved the force he yielded in bending her to his will. She even loved the fact he’d been silently watching her for months.

How could I want that? Why did I not stop him?

Celia swallowed a moan of sudden despair, recognizing the truth inside herself, even if she did not completely understand it. This was something to fear. To hide from. To avoid until a future husband made it his business to control.