The Fate Date (Glengarry Curse #1)

23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Sabrina

S abrina’s ankles tilted as she stumbled on the gravel outside. She gulped down the cold air. It made her skin prickle, forcing sensation back into her body. Her toes curled, retreating from the dew that glittered in the grass like the stars above. She wasn’t sure black-tie and backcountry were a sound mix. The evening was full of contradictions, it seemed.

“Want a piggyback?” Gavin offered. She looked at him, and he appeared…relaxed. Contented. How? She willed her Pisces ascendant to get a handle on her emotions.

“Thanks. The heels dig into the ground.” She hopped up on his back, thankful there was no one else around to see her skirt hiked up, not that her reputation wasn’t already disgraced. Sabrina looped her arms around Gavin’s neck, holding him tight. She couldn’t believe he’d told her about the curse, and in front of everyone. The verses he'd recited had sent goosebumps skittering over her skin, much like the way it puckered in the crisp air. The lines had been eerily similar to her tarot reading for the Glengarry men the night they’d met, like her intuition had always known there were greater forces at play here.

Gavin’s silence allowed her mind to wander further, latching on to her altercation with Alfred, like a horrific millennial boomerang. She should have stayed silent in response to his posturing .

“I’m so sorry, Gavin, I feel like I ruined everything,” she managed to say, burying her face in the collar of his shirt. If her Instagram was the reason he didn’t get the job…

“Don’t be,” he said.

She hopped down onto the deck outside their cabin.

He turned the key in the lock. “I meant what I said, Sabrina. What you’ve accomplished in the past three weeks is impressive. They’re fools if they don’t recognize it. It’s nice that you can relax and be yourself now.”

Sabrina traipsed into the room, throwing herself dramatically on the bed.

“Ah yes, Sabrina the Astrologer, girlfriend to the CFO of IM Securities,” she said, with a bitter laugh.

“I’d like you to be.”

The door to the cabin snapped shut, vacuum-sealing the sexual tension between them.

She stared at him, trying to decipher if he actually meant the words like she hoped and it wasn’t her increased exposure to the country air filling her head with sweetness. He was doing that “I refuse to let emotion show on my face” thing again. His knuckles were white gripping the doorknob, like he was clinging to it to avoid being swept up in this whirlwind. She examined his stance for any other hints, desperate to avoid this conversation, avoid embarrassing herself if she was misreading the situation, avoid being swept away too.

Nothing.

So she screwed up her courage and asked, “What do you mean?”

There. She saw it. His front tooth came to bite his lower lip. The action caused her stomach to tighten, squeezing the way his lip bulged.

“What if we dropped the pretense, Sabrina?”

Dropped the pretense? Like make this real? Act on this intense need she had to be with him, listen to him, work with him, text him, touch him. Her mind started playing out their rom-com montage: visions of summer walks along the canal, strolling hand-in-hand to see the Christmas lights on Parliament Hill. Kissing up against the wall outside their favourite restaurant—they’d decide on one together; there would be a spreadsheet involved and strict pastry assessment criteria. Ed Sheeran crooning Celestial in the background. There was just one very glaring problem.

“I don’t think I fit very neatly into your five-year plan, Gavin,” she said, in barely a whisper.

She knew, sandwiched between her desire and adoration, there was a tiny thought that squeaked: this doesn’t make sense . They were so different, so opposite, and while she was ready to sling shot her thong at him, he was much more pragmatic.

“Fuck the five-year plan,” he said, still standing next to the door, watching her. His hand dropped from the doorknob. “The truth is, it’s all been an excuse, whether the curse is true or not. A way to try and control my environment, to make sure I didn’t end up like my father.”

“What do you mean?”

“My dad was the oldest son in his family too. I thought if the curse was real, then my fate was sealed, destined to the same vices that he was.”

There were pieces missing from this narrative, Sabrina thought to herself. But she didn’t get the chance to ask, because he took a step forwards, closing the gap between them. The scent of lavender got caught in her throat and he continued.

“I can make different choices than my father. I can’t change the past, but I get to decide my future,” he said, almost trying to convince himself of this fact, his brow still furrowed. “I’m reneging on our bargain, Sabrina, because I don’t know how I’m supposed to drop you off on Sunday and never see you again. I need your smiles. I need your optimism. I need you. We’ll make a new plan, one where we just see where this goes, because I have a feeling it’s better than I could possibly predict. I want—” His voice faltered. “I want to touch you so badly,” he admitted. “I want to make you feel as good as just being around you feels.”

She was on him like a spider monkey, standing and leaping off the bed as he closed the distance to catch her. She liked this position, she decided, with her legs wrapped around his waist—a level playing field as she kissed him. He stumbled backwards with the momentum from her jump, his back knocking a picture frame off the wall. They heard it shatter on the ground, and he didn’t even mention his mini-vacuum. Instead, he repositioned his hands on her ass, and she felt the spread of his lips.

Gavin stepped forwards and she felt weightless in his arms. His hands gripped her ass tighter. “I’ve been wanting to do this since I saw you in those leggings this morning.” He ripped his hands away, and Sabrina squealed as she fell on the bed. He leaned forwards over her, hands pressed on either side, making the bed sink down. His forearms caged her in, though he didn’t touch her. He pressed his lips to her ear and asked, “You want this too?””

The words made her shiver and reach for the buttons on his shirt.

But then he pulled away, standing at the foot of the bed. “Sabrina, do you want this too?” He played with the open button on his shirt, but didn’t take it off. Nor did he take his eyes off her. If Sabrina was a betting woman, she’d almost classify his expression—brow slanted, jaw clenched—as nervous.

However, the words to describe what she wanted were scrambled together presently. And afraid that they might come out a little overcooked—like, “ I want your grumpy practical gestures, I love your thoughtful structures, I need you inside me now ”—she settled with a nod.

Relief looked sexy on Gavin Glengarry. His shoulders relaxed, and with a knowing look—like he’d just heard her inner thoughts, and quite agreed with the last bit—he took off his shirt. Sabrina propped herself up on her elbows and didn’t hide the fact that she was ogling the dusting of dark hair on his chest, the ridges on his stomach, the line of hair that dipped below his suit pants, which did nothing to hide his massive hard-on.

“You’re shameless,” he said, but she could tell he was enjoying himself. It was very, hugely evident. Really, that kind of pressure, could cause a button to pop off and hit her in the face. It was in the name of risk management that she tried to reach for the fastening on his pants.

“Not yet,” he said. He gripped her thighs and pulled her down towards the edge of the bed. Her skirt hiked upwards but she didn’t pull it down. He grabbed her right leg, angling it in the air. His gaze dipped to the see-through lace of her panties, and it felt like a heat ray on her body. His unflappable fa?ade broke, and he let out a groan that he tried to muffle by pressing his lips to her calf. She noticed his fingers fumble as he undid the tiny clasp around her ankle, removing her shoe and tossing it haphazardly on the floor.

“Did you choose those panties for me?” he asked her.

His voice was like sandpaper on her sensitive skin. He sounded not angry, but certainly vexed. Totally bothered. The edges of Gavin’s careful control were fraying, and it was written all over his usually indecipherable face. All because of her.

“Did you know what they would do to me when I saw them?” His hands definitely shook as they undid the clasp of her other shoe, tossing it so it knocked askew the embroidered cat framed on the wall. Sabrina had never felt so desired in all her life.

It was a relief that he felt the intensity pulsing between them as she did. The same inexplicable desire that went far beyond physical attraction. It was consuming, like a black hole they couldn’t resist the pull of. Only, she’d never talked like this before during sex. She’d never spoken her mind the way Gavin was doing. But he was being so vulnerable it made her heart ache and her pussy clench. And it made her want to try.

“Yes,” she stumbled out .

The gentle strokes of his fingertips teased the inside of her thigh and Gavin rubbed his lips against her calf. His touch grazed lower to where she wanted him, his hand hypnotizing. “Did you think of me when you slid those panties over your perfect pussy?” The light brush he gave her there caused her whole body to tense. He studied her intently, all his earth signs on full display: a sensual, strategic, perfectionist. It was like he wanted confirmation that she wanted him just as much. Because it was a scary amount. A giant heart-shaped love amount.

She didn’t quite know how to reciprocate in the dirty talk, so she settled again with a nod, keeping her eyes on his, trying to reassure him that she would keep his heart safe. His nostrils flared on a shaky exhalation. His gaze travelled to her panties once more. All she needed to do was ask for his hand. But the words shrivelled in her throat.

“Stand up,” he said.

She rose from the bed, deciding not to interrupt whatever he had planned next—because he most definitely had a plan, and she would most definitely enjoy it. His hands came to her gloves, peeling them off gently. Then he came behind her, presumably to unzip her dress, but there wasn’t one—the back was so low she’d been able to shimmy it on. His warm breath caressed the back of her neck in ragged puffs. “Can I tell you what I wanted to do when I saw you walk in the room tonight?”

“Why don’t you show me?” She felt bolder with her back to him. Or at least able to form a complete sentence. Her cunt pulsed, desperate for his answer, a total slut for his dirty confessions.

His hands started low, massaging the bare skin at the small of her back, causing her to arch wantonly. They dipped under the sides of her dress skimming across her belly, and then upwards to cup her breasts.

“I knew you weren’t wearing a bra,” he said. His hands massaged as he kissed her neck, rolling his hips into the little hollow of her back. She arched further into his hands, contorting herself like she was training for Cirque de Soleil .

He was so gentle. Her nipples sharpened as his fingers traced little circles around her areola with an agonizingly light touch. His bare chest was pressed against her, his body warm, his chest hair tickling her back. He pinched her nipple, and she sucked in a breath. His lips, which were pressing barely-there-kisses to her neck, felt like they curled upwards at her reaction. But then his hands moved and the pressure was gone. They came to her shoulders and brushed her dress off, causing it to slink down her body to the floor. Would he be able to tell how slick her thighs were at this point? He just stood behind her, silent. He was probably staring at her ass, which was categorically rude considering she was about to die from his lack of touch. She turned around to face him, intending to command, as demurely as possible, that he needed to take his fucking pants off, but stopped as he came to stroke her cheek.

“Just so fucking beautiful,” he said, taking her in, as she faced him now, clad only in her thong. His eyes were a fleecy grey tonight, and she about melted at his compliments.

Because that was the thing about Gavin: he was so unflinchingly honest. And the words he was saying, the things he was doing, made her feel so precious. His fingers came to toy with her breasts again, and there was something all the more erotic about the fact that he was looking right at her. Like he was daring her to tell him to stop. Like he knew how desperate she was for him, for this, and never would.

Emboldened, she let her hands roam his chest and abs, watching his composure slip. His mouth became tight, his gaze glued to the movement of her fingers as they traced lower, teasing the hair above his belt. He gasped —actually gasped—when she dipped a finger underneath and brushed the head of his cock through his boxers. Fuelled by the power he’d imbued in her, she reached for his belt with her other hand. He shook his head, eyes wide, as she unfastened it. But before she could seek her prize, his hand came to grip her wrist.

“Wait,” he said .

“Wait?” She may as well have been joyriding in the golf cart again, she was so consumed by this rush of exhilaration. He had a dark glint in his eye as he nodded, gathering her up and bringing her to the bed once more.

He moved on top of her and kissed her neck sensually, almost like he was intent on slowing things down. He licked her. Savoured her. Basically, turned her pussy into a melting puddle of wanton horniness. His head dipped lower—a feat her hand on the back of his head encouraged. He sucked on her breasts, one at a time, thoroughly, lasciviously, until she wondered if it was possible for her to orgasm just from the way he flicked her nipple with his tongue. His thigh put pressure between her legs, but it wasn’t enough. She rubbed against him as she ran her fingers through his hair, writhing and moaning at the selfish bliss she was being bestowed. He lifted his head, and again, she went for his belt, wanting to eliminate the barrier between them. The wool of his suit pants was chafing both her thighs and desire.

“Hey.” He grabbed her hand and leaned back off her. “Can I tell you what I want?”

Sabrina forced herself to sit upwards, panic starting to diffuse the lusty mist in her brain. “Yeah, of course.” Her mind whirred with possibilities. She’d moved too fast. He was self-conscious. He had a forked penis. Actually, from what Véro had told her that wouldn’t be so bad.

He scrubbed his face. “I just have this—fantasy.”

Alright, alright. Sabrina tried to calm her heart, beating out of her chest. He was an eighth-house Aquarian, she reminded herself. Unconventional in the bedroom.

“I’ve been wanting this for so long.” He made small circles on her leg. “The wanting, the buildup, turns me on.” His hand travelled to the inside of her thigh again. “I want the first thing my cock touches to be here.” His fingers grazed over her panties, right at her clit. “I don’t want your hand, or your mouth, at least”—he looked up from where he was staring at her panties—“not for the first time." He gave a lazy smile before looking back down. “I want the agonizing wait, until you beg me to be inside of you, and it’s going to feel so fucking good.”

Her pussy fluttered in agreement.

“So, the wait will heighten the experience,” she said, trying to understand. “We can do that.” Especially if this waiting bit was every bit as depraved as she imagined. Yes, she could definitely do that.

“We don’t have to have sex tonight,” he said hurriedly.

“Oh, we’re doing it.” Of that she had no doubt.

He smiled at her. “Let’s see where the evening takes us.” He started that light touch again, just along the seam of her panties. “In the meantime, I intend to find out exactly what you want.”

He slid his thumbs under the sides of her underwear, and pulled them down her legs, his eyes turning dark and hooded as he scanned her naked body. She tried not to feel self-conscious at the fact she was fully nude and he was still half dressed, but his hand provided a perfect distraction.

His fingers glided upwards between her legs to open them wide. He spread her folds with his fingers possessively. Like he knew what he was doing. Like his hands promised to give her exactly what she needed. He dipped a finger inside her, purposefully shallow. He dragged that finger, wet with her arousal, upwards, running the barest fingertip along her clit. She couldn’t hold in her moan.

“You’re already so wet for me, Sabrina. Already desperate for my cock, aren’t you?”

His eyes shot to hers. It was unnerving because, for someone who dreaded reading social cues, he was so finely tuned to her every desire in the bedroom.

“Yes.”

“When?” His finger tapped on her clit, soft yet insistent. “When did you first want to fuck me? ”

Proper, stoic Gavin was gone. He was relaxed, confident, and so deliciously filthy that she knew she was screwed. Both figuratively and literally, hopefully. Yet she also understood the subtext of the situation—this wasn’t just dirty confessions hour. What he was asking from her was raw honesty. Intimacy. Truth. Surrender. There was no hesitation in her reply.

“The night at Ian’s, when we kissed on the table.”

He added another finger, tracing slow circles on the sensitive spot, still analyzing her and her reactions.

“You wanted me to touch you here, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” she said, and his mouth came down on hers. She was transported to that night with the way he kissed her. Thoroughly, passionately, reverently. As if caught in a time warp, his other hand skimmed her thigh, but this time he didn’t stop. His fingers slipped between her, barely entering her. She thrust her hips upwards to take his fingers deep.

“Greedy girl,” he said. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want more,” she breathed out, unable to stop her hips from thrusting upwards.

“You want to fuck my hand?”

“Oh, God yes.” His words just enhanced every sensation, drawing her further into the moment.

“Take it. Take what you want.” He chanted in her ear, “That’s a good girl, ride my hand until your pussy is soaked.” On one thrust, she spluttered incoherently, as his fingers hit a spot deep inside her that felt just right. She tried to replicate the sensation but let out a growl when she came up short. “That’s it, isn’t it? Where you want my hand?” He drove his fingers up into her, hitting that delicious place.

“Yes, right there,” Sabrina cried out as he used his fingers to stroke that spot, over and over, relentless in his pursuit of her satisfaction.

“You’re so pretty right now, Sabrina. Your eyes fuzzy and cheeks flushed.” He thrust harder. Her head rocked side to side on the pillow, wondering if her mussed-up hair would be included in the statement. She felt his weight shift and travel down the length of her body. The warmth of his breath caressed her soaked thighs. A new sensation flooded her: the wet glide of his tongue at her clit. She bucked backwards. “I’m going to make you come now, Sabrina,” he said, like he’d solved the puzzle of her body, and Oh Lord, he had. His mouth sucked and nibbled at her clit, as his fingers urged the growing tension in her body to a breaking point.

He lifted his head a moment to say, “Let go, I’ve got you,” though she barely heard him; the wet sounds of him working into her, of his tongue flicking her, were drowned out by the intensity of her orgasm. She collided with it; her back arching, face clenching, hips thrusting, and voice cracking from her scream.

She whimpered as his stubbled cheek grazed her sensitive inner thigh when his face moved away, leaving a trail that burned into her. Her hips glided up and down his hand, dragging out the last vestiges of pleasure that wracked her body. When the intensity faded, she opened her eyes, surprised to see Gavin watching her, his hand stilled between her legs, letting her guide the movement. His breathing was ragged, and she was wondering how badly he regretted his earlier decision to wait before he took his pants off.

“Please get a condom?” she said, hoping Gavin wanted out of his self-imposed misery.

Like a shotgun he was up, opening the precise packing cube that held his toiletries. He came back to the bed, fumbling with the wrapper, before reaching for the button on his pants with a slight tremor in his hand. She was still in disbelief that she could affect him so much. As a Pisces rising, she wore her heart on her sleeve. Intense emotions weren’t new to her, but feeling them in return, having them reciprocated with the same earth-shattering fierceness, was .

He stripped off his pants and boxers and she watched him roll the condom down his length. His penis was not, in fact, forked. It was large and veiny, and she couldn’t wait to suck it tomorrow. He came back on top of her, but had the audacity to start teasing her again with his hand.

“Gavin Glengarry, I swear if you don’t fuck me I’m going to scream.”

“You’ll be screaming either way, love.”

The endearment wrapped around her heart, almost making up for the sexual frustration that she was literally about to die from. She tried another tack, “Please, Gavin, I need your cock. Please,” trying to convey the severity of this life-or-death erotic situation.

He shuddered slightly and kissed her. She could taste herself on his lips. “You’re so fucking sweet, Sabrina, I love that about you.” He lay on top of her fully, his weight making her feel grounded and safe as he positioned himself. Despite their size difference, he glided into her, and she sighed at the welcome sensation of fullness.

He let out a shaky breath. “Fuck, Sabrina, you feel incredible.” It took every ounce of self-control for her to remain still, sensing he needed a moment. His head hung low, pressed against her shoulder, and he struggled to catch his breath. Little words like “perfect”, “beautiful”, and “mine” were mumbled in a whispered haze. Her heart chanted along, like it was providing the perfect rhythm to match.

After a moment, he kissed her. Then a cheeky grin replaced his slack-jawed look of adoration. “Worth the wait.” He rocked his hips forwards. “How much do you want to bet that I can find that spot you like so much with my cock?”

“I think I win either way,” she breathed out.

He rolled his hips into her, eyes full of devastating concentration. “Not there?”

“Nope.” She shook her head, trying to school her face, unsuccessfully. He tried a few more times, moving her legs, angling her hips, each time differently. It felt sublime. But that’s not what she enjoyed most .

He hoisted her butt in the air as he thrust again, this time causing a fit of giggles to erupt out of her. His own laughter joined in as he collapsed on top of her, still inside. “I swear I’m not terrible at this,” he said, through his delighted rumble.

They were playing. And fucking. Play fucking. And she was having fun. With Gavin Glengarry. Her brain didn’t seem to be able to keep up with the way he seemed to be a different person when it was just the two of them. Relaxed and silly and sweet.

“I believe in you,” she said, feigning stoicism, but she couldn’t stop her grin from relapsing.

His mouth came to caress her neck and he started slipping in and out of her again. Only on his next thrust, she gasped and he froze. “I found it, didn’t I?” He repeated the motion and her moan confirmed it. His smile was smug. Were she not having one of the most pleasurable experiences of her life, she’d try and wipe it from his face. Her skin fizzed, body buzzed, pussy clenched, so she decided she would let the matter go for the moment. Especially when he picked up his rhythm; like before, focusing his attention on that place she wanted him most. One of his hands came to her clitoris and began to make circles as that satisfying tension built once more in her body. He just kept watching, like he knew exactly what he was doing to her, and he would not stop until she crested another wave of pleasure.

“I could do this all night, Tink, filling you up,” he said. His Mars was in Taurus, she had no doubt that was the case. He shook his head again. “You take my cock so well, Sabrina.” She let his praise wash over her, moaning his name. He threw her leg over his shoulder and she felt him deeper still. “Look at you, panting for my cock.” His tempo grew faster and her cries louder, until yet another orgasm shattered her, leaving her gasping for breath as she clawed him closer.

He dropped her leg and slowed, pressing calming kisses to her. “You’re so beautiful when you come.”

She had to laugh. “I feel like my face looks all funny.”

Their gazes locked, causing her belly to swoop where they were still connected. His thumb grazed her lip, before he said, “You don’t.” So matter of fact. And she truly believed he thought that. She was doomed. If she’d been half in love with him before, this playful marathon love-making had sealed her fate. She just needed to bring him with her.

“Again?” he asked.

“Yes, but harder this time.”

He eyed her.

“I can take it,” she said, repeating some of his earlier words. His gaze turned hot, determined to take up the gauntlet she’d thrown at his feet, and he started to thrust into her forcefully.

“Like that, Tink, is that how you want my dick?”

“Yes. Faster, Gavin.” He worked into her quicker, but still controlled, so focused on her and her pleasure. His consideration was sweet, but not what she wanted. She’d seen his composure slip earlier in the night, but she wanted to break him free entirely. She wanted to make him come apart, and put him back together one kiss at a time. She just needed to be brave enough to ask.

“More, Gavin,” she commanded, and his face twitched, the first crack in his armour. He pushed her knees into her chest, her ass lifted in the air, the angle allowing her to take him deeply.

“Yes, Gavin…just like that…give it to me…” Each phrase caused his rhythm to become more erratic, sweat beading at his temples, ecstasy etched on his face. Where his words had been titillating, the sight of him coming undone was the hottest thing she’d ever witnessed. Gone was her careful, thoughtful, patient lover; instead, he slammed into her, shattering her every erotic fantasy. She was trying with everything she had to hold off on her climax. It simmered just on the edge, but she didn’t want this moment to end .

“Come for me, Sabrina,” he whispered hoarsely, straining to hold off on the same.

“You…first,” she returned, and he growled.

They were locked in this battle, eerily similar to the night they first met, when she’d looked him in the eye as she’d shuffled the cards of fate, refusing to capitulate. “Take me, Gavin,” she pleaded.

The words wrecked him. He slipped out of her, dragged her by the legs across the bed, and flipped her over.

“Get on your knees, Tink.” Little shocks of anticipation electrified her as she moved through the charged air. She’d reached a new level of Gavin Glengarry. She wanted to learn it so badly.

“Spread your legs.” She obeyed. But his knees came between hers spreading her even wider, the cool air of the cabin licking at her exposed pussy. She felt a pressure on her upper back as he indicated he wanted her to lean forwards. “Put that tight little ass in the air.”

She felt so displayed, with her cheek flush against the mattress and her back arched up high.

He slipped into her first, and she couldn’t help but clench around him. Then he gripped her hips tight and started thrusting.

“Is this how you want it, Sabrina?” A new rush of wetness surged inside her. “Face down, ass up, taking my cock like you were made for me.”

He continued to spread her legs wider. She whimpered into the bedspread, her fingers curling into it to press back towards him.

“Answer me, Sabrina, is this how you want my cock?” The sounds of their bodies slapping together made her nipples tighten. His balls tapped against her swollen clit. She was a mess. And it was amazing.

“Yes,” she moaned.

He thrust hard. Over and over. It was hard to tell where her cries started and his ended, until, on one wicked movement, he froze, the cabin turned silent, and she felt his cock twitching inside her. Finally, she let herself go too, in a blissed-out, toe-curling release. The weight of him collapsing on top of her grounded her in reality. He slipped out of her but pulled her tight. Kisses were peppered on one another as they caught their breaths, clinging to each other to preserve the afterglow of endorphins rushing in.

“You OK?” he asked after a few moments.

“Yeah,” she said, though it wasn’t the truth. Physically, she was fine. She might be a bit sore tomorrow, a small aching reminder of what had just happened. But emotionally, she was ruined. He pulled himself away and went to take care of the condom. She just lay there, certain that her limbs had liquified in the exchange. Finished, he gathered her up and nestled her in the crook of his arm in the soft silky sheets. His fingertips stroked her arm lightly up and down.

She wondered how Gavin would try to label the absolute mind-bending mix of pleasure, intimacy, and honesty she’d experienced, like some sort of fated erotic awakening. She hugged him tighter to her. These past few weeks he’d taught her to chase her passion, in more ways than one, it seemed. She just prayed she hadn’t gambled her heart in the process.