Falling For My Ex's Dad by Oma Green

Chapter 112: Needing Him So Bad It Hurts

of pleasure surging through me. My gaze met his–burning with desire. “That’s it, my sweet, he praised, his fingers fucking me through my release as my body shattered around him. “Such a good girl, coming just for me.” Before I could catch my breath, his mouth was on mine–devouring, consuming. His tongue thrust past my lips, claiming me just as his fingers had. He pressed his hardened length against my soaked core, the rigid heat of him straining through his pants, making me whimper. His hands skimmed roughly up my thighs, yanking my dress higher. Then, without warning, he gripped the lacy edges of my panties and tore them apart. A ragged moan tore from my lips. “Oh my god… Gabriel…” There was no more gentleness in his touch. The tender Gabriel was gone. Replaced by the dark, commanding man who wanted nothing more than to own and dominate me–just like that night. A rush of fear and thrill surged through me, tightening low in my belly. Then his mouth claimed mine again–fiercer this time. His tongue tangled with mine, demanding, tasting, exploring. It wasn’t a kiss; it was a branding. He pulled back just enough to breathe against my lips. I’m going to take you now.” His hand slid around my waist, fingers digging into my flesh, tugging me closer–his hardness pressing even deeper into my core. The raw intensity in his touch sent another wave of need crashing through me. Gabriel’s hands reached for his belt, hastily unbuckling it, his fingers working with desperate urgency as he unzipped his pants. I watched him, my core tightening in anticipation, my mind already filled with the thought of him driving into me, stretching me, filling me over and over again- But then- “Dammit,” he groaned, his hands stilling just as he was about to push his pants down. And then–he stepped back. The distance he created felt unbearable. My body ached with need, my heartbeat hammering against my ribs. “What’s wrong? I choked out, my entire being throbbing for him. His jaw clenched so tightly I thought it might crack. His eyes burned–hot, wild–but beneath the desire, I saw the struggle. The war raging inside him. “I think we need to slow down.” Frustration flared through me like a live wire. “Why? What’s stopping you?” He raked a hand through his hair, avoiding my gaze. “Clairessa… I don’t want to make love.” I froze. My stomach clenched hard. “What?” Just seconds ago, he was about to take me right here on the kitchen island–I could still see his arousal, thick and straining against his pants. If he wanted me so badly, then why was he stopping? “I don’t understand…” I swallowed, my voice quieter now, uncertain. “Did I do something?” “No,” he rasped. “This isn’t about you. It’s me.” His fists clenched at his sides, like he was physically holding himself back. “I need to pace us… because of you.” My patience was wearing thin. “Gabriel, be fucking clear.” His eyes finally lifted to mine, stormy and filled with something raw, “I don’t want to make love because I want to fuck you.” A violent shudder tore through me. The way he said it–so raw, so filthy–sent heat straight to my core, a desperate rush of arousal pooling

knew I didn’t care about how possessive he was last time. The only thing that hurt was knowing he had used my body to escape his pain while keeping me at arm’s length. But tonight was different. I could see it–the need in his eyes, the way he wanted me just as much as I wanted him. Yet, he was still trying to protect me from the very thing I craved. Slowly, deliberately, I leaned back against the kitchen island. My knees fell apart, spreading my legs wider- offering myself to him. His gaze dropped instantly, and a hungry, tortured groan left his lips. His hands