Falling For My Ex's Dad by Oma Green

Chapter 133: Two Can Play The Game

me like a tidal wave as the memory of my confession replayed in my mind. Fuck. I had just told Gabriel I loved him. A truth I hadn’t even admitted to myself yet. This was crazy. Impossible. It had to be the orgasm. The overwhelming pleasure. It wasn’t me–it was the moment, the passion, the intensity. Did he hear me? Did he remember? Oh God. What if he was just waiting for me to say it again, to confirm what my body had already betrayed? No. No way. I had to play it off. Act like it never happened. I snuck a glance at him, but the moment our eyes met, my stomach flipped. He was watching me, a smug expression tugging at his lips. “What?” I blurted out, still shy and utterly mortified by what had just happened or rather, by how I had completely lost control. Gabriel’s smirk widened. “Did you just admit you’re in love with me… mid–orgasm?” “I… no… I-” I stammered, panicking, my heart hammering against my ribs. Before I could form a proper defense, he pulled me close, his warmth seeping into me. “Clairessa Hartwood,” he murmured, his lips grazing mine in a playful caress. “Have you fallen in love with me?” His eyes were locked onto mine, his full attention on me. “Don’t be ridiculous,” I scoffed, forcing a smile. “The foreplay was great, that’s all. I just meant I love having sex with you.” The moment the words left my lips, I knew it was a terrible defense–but it was all I had. My mind was a mess, clouded by pleasure and the terrifying truth that I had, in fact, just confessed. Gabriel grinned, a knowing glint in his eyes. “So it’s just the sex you love and not the man?” he taunted, but from his tone, I knew he didn’t believe me. But it didn’t matter. I wasn’t ready to say it- especially now that I couldn’t hide behind the throes of passion again. Because voicing it, truly admitting it, meant surrendering completely. And if he didn’t feel the same, I wasn’t sure I could handle it. “I… never…” I stuttered, but before I could finish, Gabriel kissed me, silencing both my words and my thoughts. Then he leaned in, nibbling my ear as he purred, “Your turn to please me. Let’s see what I love more–the sex or the woman.” “Gabriel,” I huffed, playfully swatting his chest. He just chuckled, stretching out on the bed like he was ready to enjoy the show I was about to put on. His eyes burned with desire. “Two can play the game.” Gabriel was right. Two could play. He had made me scream his name, stripped away my defenses, and pulled a confession from my lips. Now, it was his turn. I pouted, a hint of disappointment settling in. Why had he never asked me to return the favor? Most men loved it–Adrian had begged for it countless times, but I’d never

and dragged them down, inch by inch, stripping him bare–revealing every thick, throbbing inch of him. Now he was exposed before me, his cock standing thick, hard, and twitching against my lips. I couldn’t stop myself–I leaned in, ready to take him into my mouth, to taste him, to drive him wild. I had imagined this moment so many times, making him lose all control, sucking him off until he was nothing but raw need, screaming my name as he came into my mouth. But just as my lips brushed the tip, his fingers tangled in my hair, gripping tight as he pulled me up. “Ah–Gabriel!” I gasped, protesting, but before I could say another word, his mouth crashed into mine. “Gabriel,” I protested, but he captured my lips in a deep, consuming kiss. I knew it was a distraction, and still, I gave in. His tongue claimed mine, punishing and demanding, before he flipped me onto my back, hovering over me, his body heat searing into my skin. “I want to be buried so deep inside you,” he growled against my lips. Then his mouth descended, capturing one nipple between his teeth, the sharp sting instantly soothed by the slow, sensual glide of his tongue. A breathless moan escaped me. He flattened his tongue against my hardened peak before shifting to the other, sucking, fondling–his hands gripping my hips, keeping me still as he spread my thighs wider. A desperate whimper slipped from my lips as he dragged the thick length of him along my slick folds, grazing my entrance with maddening precision, provoking an uncontrollable longing within me. The sensation was intoxicating–sweet, overwhelming–a slow, torturous burn that made my body tremble beneath him. “Gabriel… ple-” I panted, my hips lifting off the bed to meet his thick cock as it brushed against my clit before retreating again. “Please what?” he drawled, his cock poised at my entrance now, waiting. “I need you…,” I gasped, breathless, aching for him. A wicked grin spread across his handsome face. Then he lifted one of my legs, wrapping it around his waist before slamming into me. “My sweet,” he growled, plunging deeper, stretching me, filling me. There was no tenderness. Only raw passion. He pulled out only