Falling For My Ex's Dad by Oma Green

Chapter 133: Two Can Play The Game
Clairessa’s POV Embarrassment washed over 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 given in. It always felt too messy, too intimate. But with Gabriel... I wanted to. I wanted to please
him just as much as he pleased me. For now, I’d settle for stripping. I stepped back from the bed, swaying my hips in a slow,
seductive rhythm as I peeled away my clothes. My hands traced my curves, gliding over my skin, drawing Gabriel in, watching
the hunger in his eyes intensify. I had no panties on, but I took my time with the dress, letting it slip off my shoulders inch by inch.
I left my bra for last, drawing out the suspense. My fingers reached the clasp, and I unhooked it, sliding the straps down my
shoulders before letting it drop to the floor. I loved how his eyes burned with raw desire, dark and intense, taking in every inch of
me. I knew what drove him wild–how he loved seeing me press my breasts together, rolling my nipples between my fingers. So I
did it again and again, feeling them harden under my touch. A soft moan escaped me as heat pooled between my thighs. His jaw
tightened, his hands curling into fists at his sides, as if he were struggling to stay in control. I caught the slight movement of his

hand reaching for his pants, but my voice stopped him. “Don’t.” The words left me in a soft, breathless plea. “I want to undress
you.” His eyes flashed with surprise before he lifted his hands away, wordlessly giving me permission. I stepped toward the bed
and climbed on, the cool fabric brushing against my skin as I moved between his legs. My palms pressed into the mattress as I
crawled closer, exuding sensual confidence. My knees folded beneath me as I settled between his thighs, my hands gliding over
his chest, feeling the defined muscles beneath his shirt. His body was warm, solid, irresistibly perfect. One by one, I undid the
buttons, pushing the fabric from his shoulders and letting it fall away. My fingers traced the contours of his abs, appreciating
every sculpted inch. “You’re so perfect,” I murmured, my voice filled with admiration and sincerity. He always worshipped my
body–now it was my turn. His eyes fluttered shut, his breath hitching as he
soaked in my touch, my words. “Every inch of you is firm... solid... and I love it.” I pressed my lips to his chest, trailing wet kisses
along his heated skin. His body burned against my tongue, each kiss pulling a shaky breath from him as I traveled lower, tasting
every inch of him. A deep, guttural groan tore from his throat as I followed the firm lines of his abdomen, licking along every dip
and ridge until I reached the thick, throbbing length straining against his pants. I swiped my tongue over my lower lip, savoring
the lingering taste of him, my mouth watering for more. Eagerly, I reached for his slacks, unzipping and tugging them down his

hips. My fingers slipped into his briefs, wrapping around his thick cock, stroking him once–just enough to make him shudder, his
breath hitching as he throbbed in my grasp. “Clairessa... fuck,” he groaned, his voice rough with need. His hips jerked into my
grasp, desperate for more. I squeezed him, relishing the way his body tensed, the way his abs flexed beneath my hands. His
breathing turned ragged, the hunger radiating from him undeniable. Holding his gaze, I hooked my fingers into the waistband of
his briefs 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 to slam back in, hard and fast, each stroke forcing a cry from my lips. Our moans blended
with the slap of skin against skin, the rhythm frantic and intense. He gripped my hips, driving into me–faster, harder, deeper–
each thrust sending me spiraling higher, my body tightening, ready to burst. “Cum with me,” he ordered, his voice rough, his
pace unstoppable. Pleasure crashed through me, a blinding explosion that wrecked me apart, leaving me trembling beneath him.
“Fuck... my sweet,” he growled, his body tensing before he lost himself, spilling into me in shuddering waves, his grip on me
strong as he rode out his release.