Page 58 of Gideon
“I will show you I can handle all of it. Every little part of you. The good. The bad. The trauma. All that sass. The sharp tongue of yours, and even your tears. I pray that one day you will let me take it all for a while. Give them over to me and let me help carry the burden. Let me give you a precious gift,” I continued, my words passionately whispered into the dark.
“What kind of gift?” she whispered.
“Let me give you freedom,” I breathed out my truth against her hair, letting the words tumble from my lips as she crumbled against my chest. Her tears fell hot against my skin as I held her tight. “Let me give you life.”
She spoke no words in response, but she nodded her head, clinging to me long into the night, until sleep claimed us both.
For now, the promise of a truth to come was enough. For now.
CHAPTER15
NAOMI
It was an odd thing, knowing the full truth about Gideon, and him knowing the full truth about me. There was a dread that filled my stomach at times, but overwhelmingly, I was filled with a sense of relief I had not expected. I slept so soundly that night; better than I had in years, to be honest. Gideon and I had both slept half the morning away before we finally woke.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he groaned, his voice rough and gravely with sleep.
“You have bad morning breath,” I chastised through my sleep-roughened voice, scrunching my nose up at him.
“Yours isn’t exactly peaches and cream, but I don’t care. Kiss me,” he chuckled, tugging me closer to him until our lips met. I protested for only a half second before melting against him. His kisses were like fire, scorching me down to my toes and making me feel very awake and very alive. And very horny, as the case was this morning.
His hips rocked against me, morning erection pressing into my belly as his tongue found its way past my lips to play with mine.
“Your kisses drive me wild,” he murmured against my lips, his hands feeling like they were everywhere all at once. My hips, my back, pulling me closer, running down my thighs. It befuddled my already foggy brain.
“Stop talking,” I groaned, my hands tugging him back to my lips by the hair. I didn’t want to talk. Not now.
“We should talk about yesterday,” he groaned, his hands stilling as he pulled away.
“I don’t want to talk, Gideon,” I whined at the loss of contact.
“No?” he questioned. I could hear the sassy little tease in his voice.
“No. I don’t want to talk. Make me feel. Please.” I could have thrown sass right back at him. It was on the tip of my tongue to do just that, but instead, I tried a new tactic. Hitting him where it hurt most. Begging.
He groaned deeply, a sound that reverberated through my body and settled straight into the core of my sex, making me clench and ache for him.
“Mmm,” I murmured, bringing my lips back to his. This wasn’t the slow good morning kiss we had just shared. This was fire and passion and raw need. His lips met mine with a fervor that called to my own passion and lit it aflame like a lit match to gasoline.
My legs tangled between his, thrusting against his erection in search of blissful friction. My hands wound around his neck, pulling him closer and keeping him anchored to me as our kiss deepened. He growled as my tongue flicked against his.
“Vixen,” he groaned, his hands sliding down my hips to my thighs, where he tugged until my leg had wrapped around his hip. The position opened me up to his thrusting length, grinding himself against my swollen and aching clit.
“Please,” I begged again, my voice nothing more than a breathy plea for more. I gasped as he flipped us over, rolling me onto my back as he hovered above me. His hands held himself up. His face lifted above me as he pressed himself into my core, watching my every reaction.
“Christ, Gideon,” I whimpered as my hips spread further, my legs wrapping around his hips and we created incredible friction between us.
“Jesus fuck, I can feel how hot and wet you are even through our clothing,” he groaned, his eyes fluttering shut as I rocked my hips against his.
“What clothes?” I coyly teased, my hands finding the waistband of his pajamas and tugging them down. His length sprang out of his pants, and I rocked upwards, the hot head of his cock meeting my bare wetness.
“Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” he groaned, grinding his hips in a circular pattern until the head of him bumped perfectly against my opening.
“Please,” I begged him, my hands running up the length of his back, pulling at him. I wanted to feel his weight on me. I wanted to forget everything except for the way our bodies moved together.
“Not yet,” he moaned, pushing himself up on his hands fully and sitting back on his knees. His hands spread my legs wide as he gazed down at my bare flesh. “I want to see you.”
“That’s embarrassing,” I scoffed, trying to shove off the actual embarrassment I felt and laugh off the feeling.
