Page 16 of A Kiss on a Dare
When he comes, it’s with a shuddering groan, his release hot and pulsing in my mouth. I swallow it all, my hands holding him as his body trembles. I keep going, my tongue moving gently until he’s completely spent. Finally, I sit back on my heels, my eyes lifting to meet his as I wipe my lips, waiting for him to come back to reality.
Gabrielle stares down at me, his chest rising and falling as he’s trying to catch his breath. His expression is unreadable at first—then softens as he reaches out, his fingers brushing over my cheek in a way so tender it nearly undoes me.
“Ray,” he says, his voice raw. “You’re fucking incredible.”
The shower is quiet except for the rhythmic patter of water against the tile. Neither of us speaks as we rinse off, the water washing away the evidence of what just happened. Our touches linger—his fingers grazing my shoulders, my hands finding his waist. It’s quiet, unspoken, and achingly intimate.
When we step out into the changing room, we dry off in silence, Gabrielle’s gaze lingering on me in a way that makes me blush. There’s something unspoken in the space between us, but neither of us is ready to break it. Not yet.
***
As the shift picks up again, the hospital settles into its late-night rhythm, quieter than usual in the calm of the Christmas lull. Gabrielle and I fall into step like always, our movements seamless, the kind of partnership forged through months of working together. But now, every glance, every accidental touch feels different—deliberate, intentional.
A couple of hours later, as I jot down notes on a patient’s chart, I glance up and catch Gabrielle looking at me. It’s not the quick, professional glance I’m used to—it’s smoldering like he’s undressing me right here in the hallway. My breath stutters and my pulse kicks up as his gaze lingers for a beat too long before he turns back to his work, the corner of his mouth tugging into a small, knowing smirk.
Another hour passes in a blur of patient rounds and quiet conversations with the night staff. By the time the clock reads past 1 a.m., the hospital has settled into a rare calm. I’m perched at the nurse’s station, finishing paperwork, when I hear the soft scuff of footsteps. Gabrielle leans in beside me, close enough that the warmth of his breath tickles my ear.
“I want to fuck you,” he says, his voice rough.
My pen slips from my fingers, clattering onto the desk. My head snaps up, locking onto his gaze, but he’s already straightening, his expression cool and composed, as though he didn’t just drop a line that my overactive, horny brain will replay on a loop for weeks to come. Without another word, he turns and walks away, leaving me frozen for half a second before my legs move on autopilot, trailing after him. My heart pounds in my chest, and I can only pray Julia, the 60-year-old nurse on call tonight, didn’t notice the way my cheeks flamed as I hurried to keep up.
We slip into the empty on-call room, the soft click of the door shutting behind us, cutting off the muted sounds of the hospital. The room is dim, lit only by the faint glow of a bedside lamp that casts warm, flickering light. Gabrielle turns to face me, his eyes dark, burning with intent. From his pocket, he pulls a small bottle of lube and a pack of condoms. The sight makes my breath hitch, heat pooling low in my belly.
Gabrielle steps closer, his hands tangling in my hair as his mouth crashes into mine. The kiss is hungry and consuming, yet beneath the urgency lies a tenderness, as if he’s savoring every moment we have.
“God, I want you,” he says against my mouth, his voice thick with desire.
His hands slide down to my waist, pulling me firmly against him. The solid warmth of his body radiates through our shirts, every point of contact igniting a primal need. His fingers make quick work of undressing me, and I shiver under his touch, my breath catching.
When I’m finally naked before him, his gaze travels over me, dark and intense, like he’s memorizing every inch. “So beautiful,” he whispers, the reverence in his tone making my heart skip.
He undresses himself next. I can’t look away as more of him is revealed—lean, sculpted muscle, his entire body breathtaking. When he’s fully bare, his cock is already painfully hard again, and the sight sends a fresh wave of desire through me.
Gabrielle steps closer, pressing his forehead to mine. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he says.
I nod, unable to find my voice.God, I want him to wreck me, to slam me down and fuck me senseless.
He guides me to the small bed, helping me lie back. Then he pours a generous amount of lube onto his fingers, warming it between his hands before pressing a soft kiss to my inner thigh. His touch is slow and careful as he slides one slick finger along my entrance, teasing, before gently pressing in. I let out a soft gasp at the sensation, my body adjusting as he moves with care.
“Relax,” he murmurs, his free hand caressing my thigh. “Let me make you feel good.”
I nod, exhaling shakily as he starts to move his finger, sliding in and out in a rhythm that’s both soothing and electrifying. When he adds a second finger, the stretch stings slightly, but the way he watches me—his gaze locked on my face, reading every reaction—makes me feel safe.
“You’re doing so well,” he whispers, his fingers curling just enough to hit a spot inside me that sends pleasure surging through me. I moan, my hips arching instinctively, and he smiles—a dark, satisfied curve of his lips.
“You like that?” he asks, his voice dropping into something darker, more seductive. “I’ll make you feel even better.”
His fingers move faster now, scissoring and stretching me. He takes his time, his other hand stroking my thigh, his lips leaving a trail of kisses along its inner side. By the time he pulls his fingers out, my body is trembling, desperate for more.
Gabrielle rolls the condom over his length, slicking himself generously with lube. He kneels between my legs, his cock pushing slightly against my entrance as he leans over me, his lips hovering above mine.
“Can I fuck you?” he asks, his voice rough with need.
“Yes,” I breathe, my voice trembling with anticipation. “Please.”
He holds my gaze as he slowly presses forward, the head of his cock nudging my entrance before sliding in, inch by inch. The stretch is so good, a mix of pleasure and pressure, and he pauses, giving me time to adjust. His breathing is ragged, his hands gripping my hips as he holds himself back.
“You feel so good,” he groans, his voice thick with need, and I moan in response. “So fucking good.”
