I’m not sure what I was expecting Gabriel to do, but start laughing wasn’t it. I’m holding my breath, sitting on the kitchen table with my legs wrapped around him, and he’s grinning and chuckling.

“Any further questions?” he murmurs.

God knows I have plenty, but not for right now.

“It just seemed like you should know what you’re dealing with,” I whisper. I’m nervous because I don’t want Gabriel to think I’m some sort of super-erotic sex goddess or something, because there’s nothing further from the truth.

“I’ve had sex before but that’s it,” I say, feeling more and more awkward with every word. “I’ve never really done the, um, the foreplay parts, or any of the other stuff, just the actual...”

I trail off, my face blazing red, but Gabriel’s still grinning.

“So you’ve never done this before,” he says, his voice low and rough as he grabs both my knees and pulls me hard against him, his massive erection rubbing hard against my most sensitive parts.

I shake my head.

“And you’ve never done this before, either,” he says, leaning in, taking one breast in his hand and running the pad of his thumb right over my nipple. Even through my extra-padded bra, I shiver.

“No,” I whisper, though I’m getting less nervous with every moment.

“This?” he growls in my ear, sending a cascade of tingles down my spine, and then kisses my neck right below it. “Or this? Or this?”

Each question’s punctuated with another kiss, lower on my neck, flooding my senses and making my eyes shut with pleasure. He slides his hand up my shirt again as he covers my neck with kisses, long and slow, short and rough, everything in between.

“I don’t care what you haven’t done before,” he finally murmurs against my other ear. I’m half-delirious, leaning back on my hands and panting for breath, tingles down my spine. “I only care that you want to do it now.”

I don’t trust my voice so I turn my head and kiss him hard, pushing one hand through his hair. When he pulls back he lifts my shirt over my head and before it’s even off I’m already sitting up straight, undoing my bra and letting it fall to his kitchen table.

He grabs me roughly, the fingers of both hands digging into my spine, and pulls my body against his, the fabric of his t-shirt soft against my skin, and I shiver as it rubs against my stiff, sensitive nipples.

He’s practically devouring me, his tongue in my mouth and my hands in his hair, clutching his neck like I’m falling and he’s all that’s holding me up.

I squeeze him tighter with my legs and he slides his hands around my rib cage, the rough pads of his thumbs tracing the curves under each breast, finally sliding up to my nipples and circling them, slowly.

I moan in surprise, the sensation sending a bolt of heat straight downward. Gabriel chuckles slightly and bites my lower lip just hard enough.

“You have to stop laughing at me,” I tease, gasping.

“I’m not laughing at you,” he rumbles, his thumbs still moving deliciously. “I’m laughing with sheer fucking delight at the noise you just made.”

He pinches them, rolling both nipples at once between his fingers and thumbs. I bite my lip, run my hands down his chest, and slide them under his shirt, slowly savoring his warm skin and hard, rippling muscles underneath it.

“Take it off,” he says. “I’m not shy.”

I reach up and pull his shirt over his head he flings it away, and good God is it a beautiful sight as he leans in again, the muscles in his shoulders and arms bunching. I run my fingers over them at last, feeling him flex and move, and I can’t help but dig my fingernails in a little as he kisses me again, his skin against mine, pushing me backward onto the cool wood of his kitchen table as he leans over me, his lips trailing down my neck.

Gabriel takes one nipple between his teeth, just barely biting it as he runs his tongue across it. I grab his shoulders even harder and gasp, my teeth clenched together because even though the carriage house is probably far enough away that no one can hear, I don’t need to take even more chances.

The fingers of his other hand slide beneath the elastic waist of my pantyhose, pulling on them gently, and he switches nipples, flicking his tongue across the other one. I’m practically squirming on the table, breathing hard, my legs locked around his waist, absolutely aching with desire.

Then Gabriel plants a single kiss on my upper belly and stops, looking at me. I look back, and he stands up straight and offers me his hand, pulling me upright.

“The kitchen table’s only good for so long,” he murmurs. “Come on.”

He grabs my ass as I hop off the table, then leads me up the stairs and into his bedroom, shutting the door behind us, then turning to slide an arm around my half-naked waist.

I lean back against Gabriel, my eyes sliding closed as I savor the feeling of his warm skin against mine, his lips on my hair, his hands moving over my body. I arch against him as he grabs my hips in both hands and practically drags me against him, the huge bump in his jeans grinding against my ass as I exhale hard.

I think my insides might be melting, heated by the liquid desire that’s flowing through me, hot and insistent. Gabriel leans down and kisses my neck again as he pulls me in harder, and a soft moan escapes me as I stand on my tiptoes and reach behind myself, running my palm over his denim-covered erection.

He grunts into my neck, and this time I don’t apologize, I smile and don’t stop. The grunt turns into a growl and I close my fingers around it as well as I can through his pants, stroking him from tip to root.

Gabriel’s panting for breath, and he leans over me again, one hand in my hair pulling my head around, and gives me a long, deep kiss. Then he undoes the button and zipper on my denim skirt and puts his hand inside, underneath my pantyhose and underwear.

“Ruby,” he says, his voice a rough whisper. “Has anyone ever made you come before?”

I swallow hard.

“Just me,” I whisper back.

“Jesus, that’s a shame,” he murmurs, his fingers slipping downward and skimming along my lower lips. “Because you’re wet as hell and I bet watching you come is fucking incredible.”

I’m bright red, not that it matters since it’s dark and I’m facing away, but Gabriel pushes a finger between my lips and to my entrance as I gasp and lean into him harder.

His fingers start circling my clit, slowly, and I sigh as the heat begins to build. This, at least, is a little familiar, since it’s what I’ve been doing under my covers in the dark for a long time now.

Well, and for the past week, I’ve been doing it and pretending it was Gabriel, though this is even better than I imagined. It doesn’t take long before I’m biting my lips together and trying not to moan, shocks zapping back and forth through my entire body. I’m standing on my toes and leaning against him, one hand slung backward around his neck, bucking and rolling my hips because I can’t help myself.

But then he stops. I hold my breath, but Gabriel pulls his hand away, and in one quick motion spins me around, pulls my skirt off, and pushes me backward until I’m stumbling onto the bed, legs wide.

He’s right behind me, kneeling, and he grabs the waist of my pantyhose and pulls down. They half stick to me, and so I grab them too, yanking and peeling and doing my damnedest not to poke a hole through them with a fingernail.

“I hate these stupid things,” I mutter. “They’re basically torture.”

“I hate them too,” Gabriel says as he slides them down one leg. “Can you imagine the thoughts I’d be having if I saw you bare-legged?”

I finally get them off my right leg, and seconds later, Gabriel pulls them off my left and flings them to his bedroom floor in irritation.

“No,” I say, and swallow, because I’m about to talk sexy. “But you could tell me.”

He grins, grabs my panties, and pulls them off with one hand. Then he’s on his hands and knees over me, reaches back, and grabs one ankle in his hand.

“I’d probably think incessantly about getting you alone and putting my hands up your skirt,” he says, and kisses my ankle, putting it over his shoulder. “I’d fantasize about how soft you’d be, how I could wrap your thighs around my head.”

He kisses the inside of my knee, and I’m holding my breath because I have a feeling I know what he’s going do and — surprise — no one’s ever done it to me before.

“I’d think about—” he kisses my inner thigh hard, his lips a little rough against my skin, “—what you smelled like, what you taste like,” — two more kisses — “how you sound when you moan my name.”

He kisses my thigh again slowly, but this time he sucks on the soft, tender skin there for a moment, just long enough that I can really feel it.

“So the pantyhose were effective?” I gasp, because now he’s kneeling on the bed, his head between my legs, one knee over his shoulder and my whole body is wound like a spring, a combination of nerves and desire.

“Not exactly,” he rumbles, his mouth so close to me I can feel the vibrations. “I thought about all those things anyway.”

Before I can respond something touches my lower lips and pushes them apart, delving between them and grazing my entrance, something flexible and strong.

It’s his tongue, I think, both hands clenched tightly on the comforter. It’s his tongue, this is normal, everyone does this all the time and there’s nothing to be —

His tongue reaches my clit and I gasp as pure pleasure bolts through my body. I nearly knee Gabriel in the head as my entire body jolts, his fingers closing around my thighs even harder as he circles my clit slowly with his tongue.

I can’t even believe how good it feels. He keeps going, moving faster and faster, and I have to clench my teeth together to keep myself from shouting. My whole body is bucking and writhing, my hands and toes clenched, and I feel like I can barely control myself but I couldn’t care less.

This is spectacular, incredible, and Gabriel keeps flicking his tongue over my clit perfectly and sending me higher and higher until, with a gasp, I crash down and come so hard it feels like a religious experience.

Gradually, it fades. I open my eyes. Gabriel’s tongue circles me one more time, sending a quick jolt through my muscles, and then he kisses me on the thigh again. I just lie there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, until I feel his hand on mine, gently pulling at me.

I look down. Both my hands were clenched in his hair, and I release him instantly.

“Sorry,” I whisper, but he’s grinning.

“I was right,” he says, and pushes himself to his hands and knees, planting a kiss on one hip. “Watching you come is pretty fucking incredible. Even if you did nearly scalp me.”

“I didn’t mean to,” I say, as he kisses the spot right above my belly button, the bottom of my ribcage.

“Did you mean to shout oh my God over and over again?” he asks, his tongue dipping into the hollow of my throat.

I blink.

“No?” I say, my hands on his shoulders again, my knees around his hips. I’m acutely aware that I’m totally naked and he’s not as denim slides along my thighs.

“You could have been quieter,” he murmurs, kissing my jaw. He smells musky and kind of odd, and it takes me a second to realize me smells like... well, me.

“Apparently not,” I say, trying not to laugh. “I thought I was being quiet as a church mouse.”

He kisses me, hard and slow, and even though he tastes like me it’s kind of hot, a reminder of what we just did. I’m sure there are church doctrines against this but I couldn’t care less as he winds our tongues together, my legs wrapped around his waist again, his thick erection pressing up against my clit even through his jeans.

I reach down, between us, and grab his belt buckle, pulling at the leather while he groans into my neck.

Downstairs, a sharp knock sounds.

We both freeze.

In an instant, Gabriel’s rolled off of me and is standing, at the door, listening while I sit up on his bed in sheer terror.

It’s my father, I think, my insides constricting in horror. He heard and he knows what I’m doing and oh God I’m going to be sent to reeducation camp and married to Kyle and he’ll impregnate me a dozen times and I’ll never escape and I’ll never see the light of day again.

Unless I run, right here, right now, though I’ve got nowhere to go—

Gabriel looks back at me, puts a finger to his lips, and opens the door. My heart is racing so fast that I’m afraid it’s audible all the way downstairs, but I just nod mutely and watch him as he leaves the room and shuffles down the stairs, making plenty of noise.

The front door opens.

“Everything alright?” I hear him say, yawning theatrically.

“We were just comin’ here to ask you the same question,” an unfamiliar voice says. It must be one of the new guards my father hired to patrol the grounds at night. “We heard some grunting and wanted to make sure you didn’t have an intruder or nothin’.”

They heard it outside. Oh my God.

For a second I forget all about re-education camps and running away, and I’m just mortified.

“Aw, shit,” Gabriel says.

There’s a pause, and I can hear the man outside shuffling.

“That was me,” Gabriel goes on, like he’s confessing something. “I hate to talk about it, but I served a tour in Afghanistan and I’ve still got... you know. I dream about it sometimes. Wake up drenched in sweat.”

He does?

The other man sighs.

“Sorry to hear that, brother,” he says. “Glad you’re alright.”

“Don’t apologize,” Gabriel says. “Thanks for checking. Have a good night.”

“You too,” the other guy says. The door shuts. I finally exhale, my body coming unfrozen, and I glance over my shoulder at the big house.

Almost every light on the second floor is on, the floor below where I’m supposed to be asleep in my bed, and for the second time in about sixty seconds, I freeze.

Then I practically dive for my skirt and pantyhose as Gabriel’s steps cross the floor. I don’t bother getting the hose on, just shove them in one pocket as I pull my skirt up, then search for my underwear on my hands and knees.

There’s a sigh from the doorway, just as I grab my panties, and I look over. Gabriel’s standing there, leaning against the door frame with my shirt and bra in his hand, watching me with a giant bulge in his jeans.

“Someone’s awake in the house,” I whisper, getting to my feet.

“Yeah, I saw the lights,” he says, his voice slow.

I sit on the bed and pull my panties back on. I’m still naked from the waist up, and Gabriel tosses me my bra, then my shirt.

I feel awful. I mean, I feel great but at the same time I’m so nervous I’m almost sick to my stomach, plus I feel awful that Gabriel just did that for me, and I haven’t reciprocated in the least.

When I finish getting dressed, I sit on the edge of his bed and look at him for a few seconds, because I have no idea how to end this particular meeting, even though I need to go, now, before someone realizes I’m gone.

“I’m sorry,” I finally say, my eyes flicking to the lump in his jeans. “That we didn’t get to...”

I trail off, because I have no idea how to phrase do stuff with your penis, but Gabriel just grins and offers me his hand, pulling me off his bed.

“Don’t be,” he says, kissing me, his mouth still musky. “I had a great time tonight.”

I stand on my toes and kiss him harder, because whether or not I’m about to get in a lot of trouble, hot, silky desire is snaking through my body again and I just want to touch him, get close to him.

Gabriel pulls my skirt up and grabs my ass, giving it a good, long squeeze.

“Get outta here,” he says. “Stay out of trouble so we can do this again.”

“Right,” I whisper. “Sorry.”

One more squeeze, and then I’m down the stairs.

I grab my shoes from the kitchen, slide them on, and slip out the back door.