Authors: Lena Black
“I’ll never get enough of this, of you,” he groans.
It doesn’t take long for me to cum, not when he is possessing me so completely, I can think of only him and the desire that smolders between us. He pummels into me relentlessly, until we climax in unison. He bursts into me with a warm blast of tasty nectar, and I convulse on him, draining him
of every sweet drop.
I
nuzzle my head into his chest and shut my eyes. We lie there for a few moments before I feel Hunt’s dead weight sink into the mattress, his tired body sagging with sleep. As much as I want to follow him into the consoling darkness of slumber, I can’t. I feel unnerved, though I’m unsure what’s causing this nagging feeling.
Could it be about tomorrow? Is it Damian’s unsettling nightmare, and his feelings about my loyalty to our love?
Could it be something unforeseeable?
Whatever the reason, I’m unable to shake the dreadful feeling of a looming disturbance in our already turbulent waters.
A Pound of Flesh
I
wake Saturday morning blanketed by naked Damian. His arm and leg flung over my body, clinging onto me for dear life, morning wood pressing into my hip. I feel warm, too warm, and I shift his arm off me, but he tosses it right back. I try scooting my body out from under him, but he only tightens his grip. I sigh, giving up hope.
“Good morning, gorgeous,” Hunt greets me with a sleepy voice.
“Morning, slick. Sleep well?”
“Yes, extremely,” he replies, rolling off me and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “You?”
“Like a baby.” I lie, not wanting to upset him before his important meeting. “Want me to make you breakfast?”
He stretches his arms above his head, arching his back and letting out a guttural, labored groan. He smiles at me and flings an arm about me, bringing me into my nook. I lay my tired head on his broad, golden, hair-speckled chest, and kiss the center over his heart.
“I love when you do that.”
“Kiss your heart?”
He nods his head. “It makes it skip a beat.”
I lean in, kissing it again, then trail my lips up to his neck.
“What if I kiss you here?” I press my puckered lips into the crook of his neck, where his life pulse thumps against my lips, and he moans, tilting his head back, giving me better access.
“My heart stops,” he murmurs.
I moan and go at his neck, nipping and sucking. I thrust my hands into his sleep-muddled hair, pulling harshly. I climb on top and lie on his hard, lean body, attacking him with my brazen lips. His hands clasp to my plump ass, his fingers grip and nails dig. The sting is both painful and delectable.
I growl against his neck, and he grips tighter, flipping us over so his large body eclipses mine. He kisses me, cramming his tongue into my slack mouth, claiming me with lush, tantalizing strokes. He moves down my body with his sensational mouth as my fingers entwine with his hair, and he proceeds to make mind-altering love to me for the rest of the morning.
D
amian’s in the shower while I prepare brunch for us. I whip up eggs, bacon, toast, coffee, and slice up some cantaloupe. I’m setting everything on the dining room table when he walks in fully dressed in a black suit, white dress shirt, and black tie. It’s simple, yet sexy as sin.
“I don’t eat at the table,” he reminds me.
“Yeah, I know, but today you do, so sit.” I point to the chair at the head of the table, and he does as he was told.
“That’s my boy,” I commend with a huge smile smearing form ear-to-ear, and he returns the sweetest, shiest, close-lipped smirk. My heart melts. “I could get used to telling you what to do.”
He pauses his descent about midway to the chair, cocking a brow, and shakes his head slowly. He finishes his descent and scoots in his chair.
“It looks delicious.”
I lean over and kiss him atop his head. “It’s taste even better,” I purr.
He gives me a lopsided grin and dives in. I take the seat next to him and watch him savor my work.
“Superb.”
“I’m pleased.”
He takes a bite of the eggs and toast. “What are your plans for the day?”
“Lounge around, maybe read, make a few phone calls.”
“To whom?”
“I have to call my parents, Chase, etc. I pretty much have to touch base with everyone. I’ve been so preoccupied with you, which means I haven’t had much time for them.”
“You should go out to lunch or a movie. I would suggest taking my card to shop, but I know how much you love shopping for clothes.”
“I don’t know. I guess I could see if anyone’s free. I really shouldn’t stay cooped up on such a beautiful sunny day. They’re so rare this time of year.”
“You can take my credit card. Do whatever you like, go nuts.”
“Thanks, but no thanks. I can pay for myself.”
“Gabrielle.”
“Damian.”
“Is this going to be our thing? I try to give you something, and you reject it?”
“No, not every time. I told you I don’t want to be a kept woman. Until I bear the name Hunt, I’d prefer to pay for myself, keep some form of independence. Once I’m a Hunt, we can revisit and revise the terms of our relationship.”
His eyes bore into me, wide with shock. “Did you just…” He stands up and grabs my arm, yanking me to my feet and smashing me into his body. I stare up into his electric pools of green, and my breathing hitches, knees weaken. He feels my body going limp and holds me closer.
“Let’s not make this a big deal. I’m already anxious thinking about it.”
“Understood,” he agrees with a nod of the head. “I wouldn’t want to scare you off.”
“I will say this…I see my future with you, and I want to be your wife, but I’m not in a rush. I’m with you, and no piece of paper or ring or vows will change what we already have. We will always simply be Damian and Gabrielle. You’re mine, and I’m yours, truly and completely.”
“Forever,” he utters, cupping my face and swooping his lips down onto mine with mindboggling fervor. I relax into him, arms clutching about his lean waist. He plucks my face away, staring lovingly into my heavy-lidded eyes.
“I love you, Elle.”
“I love you, Hunt. More than you’ll ever know.”
“I think I have a small inkling.” He kisses the tip of my nose.
H
unt leaves at about two, with Liam escorting him to the airport, but not before planting an amorous kiss on my pouty lips, professing his undying love for me, and I rewarded his sweet treat with of my own, handing him a muffin for the road.
I check-in with my parents who are having an utterly fabulous time in Hawaii. Jules is coping with Nicholas’s death and her parents, and Chase will be here in a few hours. We’re going to dinner and then taking Scarlett out of the city to stretch her legs and see what she can do.
Last but not least, Walker. I find his number in received calls and press send. He picks it up on the second ring with an unexpectedly cheerful disposition. It’s totally unwarranted if you ask me, after last night’s appalling demonstration of the male ego and exhibition of my naked form.
“Hello, love, I’ve missed you,” His gentle brogue sends shivers down my spine and not in a bad way. I shake it off and catch my bearings.
“Don’t. Don’t play this shit with me. You should have your fucking tail between your legs.”
“I’m not a dog, Gigi.”
“That’s a matter of opinion.”
He laughs uproariously, and I can’t help but smile. “I can hear yer lovely grin. I’ve had dreams of that angelic smile.”
I wipe it off my face quickly. “I’m calling because I want to discuss last night’s events with you. I want you to explain your decision to display my body and our most intimate moments together. I want you to apologize for your actions.”
“You have to understand, you were all I could think about. The portraits started out as a form of therapy, but they turned into much more. I’ve never been so inspired before. Yer my muse. I just wanted everyone to know what you mean to me, how I see you.”
“Walker…”
“As far as my behavior last night, I’m not sorry. I want you back, and I will do whatever I must to succeed.”
“I told you I’m with Hunt. I made myself clear.”
“You didn’t seem too clear when you were invitin’ me to kiss you.”
“It was a mix of champagne and insanity. I would have to be crazy to ever give you the idea you had a chance.”
“Bollocks! I think you were fully aware of what was occurrin’. Yer just afraid to admit you wanted it, too.”
“Stop. This is not how this conversation is going to go. I was hoping we could work this out and come to some kind of understanding, but I’m starting to believe that will never happen. Since that seems to be the case, I have no choice but to say goodbye.”
“Gigi, wait. I’m sorry I put you in an uncomfortable situation, and I’m sorry for displayin’ you for all to see, but I love you, and I refuse to apologize for doin’ so.”
“I’m not asking you to, but you must understand nothing can come of it. My heart belongs to another. It always will…I can’t do this. I have to go.”
“Gigi, wait. Listen to me.”
“Goodbye, Walker.”
“No, Gabrielle, stop…”
I hit the end button and toss my cell onto the couch next to me. My phone rings, and when I see it’s him, I pick it up, hitting ignore, and turn my ringer to vibrate. I rise and head upstairs for a nap. After my lack of sleep last night and the physically and emotionally draining week I’ve had, I’m in much need of sleep. Plus, I need to reenergize for the multitude of mind-blowing, body-arcing sex Hunt and I are sure to have upon his return.
I
t’s dark when I wake. Rain is coming down in buckets, putting a damper on our plans to go for a drive. Hopefully, by the time we’re ready to go for a drive, it’ll have stopped. I turn over to the clock, which reads five forty-five. I’ve spent the whole afternoon napping, but I’m glad I did because I feel refreshed.
I’m supposed to meet Chase down in the lobby at six, so I leap out of bed and hop into the bathroom for a brisk shower. It’s splendid and wakes me right up. I get out quickly and head into the closet to get dressed, choosing a lavender blouse and dark skinny jeans, tucked into a pair of black calf-boots.
I head back into the bathroom and toss my hair up in a floppy loose bun with a few tendrils hanging strategically about my face. I apply little make-up, only mascara and gloss, and snag a black blazer out of the closet on my way back downstairs to wait for Chase’s call.
The second my foot hits the last step, my ass begins to vibrate. I grab the phone from my back pocket and find a text from Chase, two missed calls from Walker, and ten missed calls from Damian. He must be freaking out by now.
I’m heading to the elevators, texting him back, when suddenly the haunting music of Mozart’s ‘Requiem’ begins playing loudly. I’m overcome by the music.
Did I leave the music on and forget?
The living room is unsettlingly dark, even the outside light from the city seems muted. That’s when I notice the elevator doors are wide-open, the brightly lit cab ominously waiting. An eerie sensation deep within my stomach seizes me.
Oh, fuck. This isn’t right.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, and a spine-wrenching shiver shoots up my back. My heart is beating rapidly, irregularly drumming an unsteady tune against my chest plate.
Something is off, something’s terribly wrong here.
I feel as if I’m being watched, stalked by something in the shadows. I bolt for the doors, reaching them as they’re about to slide shut, but it’s too late. A large, forceful hand clamps over my mouth and my waist, hauling me violently back into the living room. My legs go flying into the air like a rag doll from the sheer power of the halting action. I kick and scream, but it’s useless with their hand firmly melded over my mouth. I struggle with all my might, kicking my legs and twisting in their grasp.
“Now, I’m going to teach you both a lesson you’ll never forget.”
My eyes pop open.
No.
I don’t hesitate. The training with Caleb kicks in, and I use an escape maneuver he taught me. I stomp the heel of my boot into his toes, and when he releases slightly to grab at the injured foot, I elbow him in the face. Dante stumbles back, holding his face, screaming muffled profanities. I’m back at the elevator, desperately pushing the call button and Hunt’s speed dial number into the phone.
“Come on. Come on. Why won’t you open?” I shakily whimper. “Come on, god damn it. Open, please.”
I hear him. He’s coming back for me. I turn to flee, but I’m not quick enough, and he snatches the phone away and slams me against the wall near the closed elevator doors, his hand firmly squeezing about my neck. I hear Damian’s worried voice calling to me on the other end of my cell. “Gabrielle? Angel, are you…”
“Damian! Help me!” I cry pointlessly.
“Gabrielle!” he yells back, terror filling his trembling voice.
“Please, Damian,” I whimper.
Dante cuts off the call, tossing the phone aside, and pins my arms above my head with one hand, keeping the other clamped securely to my neck. He uses his weight to wedge me between him and the wall. I scream and writhe, urgently calling out for help.
He leans into my ear and whispers, as if speaking the sweetest nothings, “Scream, baby, scream just for me. I’m the only one who can hear your cries.”
He breaks his face from my ear, and in a falsetto voice, shouts, “Damian, help me. Save me, please.”
He chortles malevolently, seemingly pleased with himself, as his teasing cries echo about the expansive room along with intensely mournful voices of a choir.
He brings his face into my neck. I turn my wrenched face away with my eyes clamped shut. He inhales a long, steady breath and purrs, “You smell divine. I would love to fuck you, show you how a real man feels between those thighs.”