He makes a sound deep in the depths of his throat and pulls his hips back.
I start to whimper at the loss of him, then he suddenly slams back in.
“Say it again,” he demands. “Who do you belong to?”
“You. I belong to you. I’m yours, Gabriel,” I moan as he grinds his hips against mine.
“That’s right… that’s fucking right,” he grunts as he begins to pump in and out.
But even with me seated on the counter, he’s so tall he has to angle himself downward.
Growling with frustration, he suddenly picks me up, his fingers digging into flesh of my ass.
Then he slams me up against the front of the refrigerator.
“You’re mine… fucking mine…” he grunts as he slams his hips into me so hard I begin to bounce. “And I’m never fucking letting you go.”
I’ve given myself over to him so completely that it’s only seconds before the beginning of my release is upon me.
Gathering force in the center of my core like a coming storm.
Each little sound that falls from my mouth seems to encourage him to fuck me harder and faster.
So hard, I feel his balls slapping against my ass and the door of refrigerator bending against my spine.
I writhe, my sweat slick skin sliding against his.
And then the force inside me is unleashed.
White lightning flashes in front of my eyes, and I swear I hear the roar of thunder in my ears.
But then I realize that’s Gabriel roaring.
My pussy squeezes around him, desperately pulling him deeper as he declares, “Even if you tried to run from me, even if you chose not to stand beside me…”
Grabbing me by the chin, he forces me to stare into his eyes as I’m trapped, lost and powerless, inside my throes.
“I wouldn’t let you go.”
His words chill me even as his cock pumps me full of warmth.
And I start regret my decision.
But then, as he reaches the last seconds of his release, that angry mask of his slips off face.
And so much dark, twisted love stares back at me, I’m lost.
Utterly fucking lost.
“I fucking love you, Meghan,” he declares.
And god help me…
I think I love him in return.
17
Gabriel
It seems like I’m the one always getting out of bed first. Meghan lays behind me, sprawled out on the bed in just a pair of tiny panties. I swear she sleeps on her stomach like that on purpose. It’s like she’s begging me to slap that tight juicy ass of hers.
Times like these in the still moments before the death that’s to come, I feel almost holy. I feel almost righteous. Maybe sinfully righteous.
Murder and mayhem isn’t exactly the heavenly way. But I’ve never questioned my destiny. Never questioned the decisions that lead to the end of my rope. I don’t plan on starting it now. Meghan agreeing to be by my side has filled that final piece I’ve been needing. Not that I knew I needed it.
When I got out of prison, I was dead inside. Rage was there in my body, but it wasn’t like it is now. Now I’ve got a purpose to keep moving, to do something proactive with my life.
I have someone I have to protect now. Someone I love and need to keep safe.
Words aren’t always trustworthy. Meghan said she was mine, but I needed to see it in her eyes. To see that she truly meant it and felt the full bearing of those words. Her eyes told the truth, they showed the commitment we found with each other. Words after that were pointless. We’re in this together now, good or bad, together.
The last three days since we’ve formed our bond have been at times quick, and at other times too slow. We’ve alternated between acting like we’re on our honeymoon, to sitting on the couch speculating about what the fuck’s been happening in the outside world.
The tension at times has been palpable. Both of us want to be out there getting this fucking war over with. We want the same thing, even if I’m more a little more bloodthirsty compared to her.
I truly believe she thinks this can be ended if we just all back down. I know for certain that won’t appease either side. The Russians have been taking over too much land and vice around the cities. They’re thirsty for territory and they hate us for kicking their asses at every turn.
Daily reports from Simon are vague at best. Nothing’s happening out there. The Russians and Irish are bunkering in and keeping us guessing at their plans. It’s a wait and see for the time being.
A bzzt sound rattles my nightstand as I stare out the back window of the bedroom. It looks out into a large wooded area, and I make sure I don’t have any nasty surprises coming toward me before I turn back to the nightstand. The sunlight that guides me back to the phone tells me we’ve slept half the morning away.