Overdosed: Fury's Storm MC (42 page)

Gabriel planted slow, teasing, open-mouthed kisses down the side of my chest until he reached my breast, rising and falling in time with my raspy breathing. I writhed, my hands straining to be free so I could touch him. But there was no fighting his strength, so I gave in and accepted the pleasure.

He crossed my wrists one over the other, holding them both with one hand. This freed the fingers of his right hand to softly caress my breast. He ran his fingers in circles around it, each circle smaller than the one before it as he zeroed in on my nipple. My breath caught in my throat, my heartbeat racing faster the closer he got. He lingered over each inch of skin. By the time he hit the center I was straining upward, my whole body tensed.

I cried out his name when he finally reached that sensitive bit of flesh. He flicked the fingers of his hand over it, rapidly, one after the other. I closed my eyes, drowning in the sensation of total pleasure.

“Look at me,” he commanded.

I felt myself respond, wetness flowing between my legs at his possessive tone of voice. I opened my eyes to find him staring at my face. He moved his fingers again and I moaned. We watched each other as he drove me crazy.

He dipped his head down, replacing his fingers with his mouth. He flicked his tongue over my pink flesh, back and forth. I watched him as he worked, my breath already coming in uneven gasps as he moved faster and faster. Then he closed his lips around me and sucked, and I arched my back.

He moved from one breast to the other, kneading and fondling the first as he licked and sucked on the second. I was in heaven, my hips grinding, my head rolling back and forth as his mouth sent shockwaves to my core. My hands opened and closed, struggling against his grip. I needed to touch him, to hold him close to me as he worked on my body.

Finally, he did let go, but only because he moved lower with his mouth, crawling between my legs. I ran my hands through his thick, dark hair as he planted kisses all over my stomach.

“Do you want me to go lower?” he asked, kissing further down my abdomen to my pelvis.

I whimpered, unable to speak.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, and moved down until he hovered over my mound. He ran his tongue along the soft flesh in the crease alongside my lips, then brought it closer and closer to my moist slit, as he had with his fingers around my nipple. I was whimpering almost constantly, undone by this torment.

“Please, lick me,” I whispered.

“I am licking you,” he said, and swiped his tongue over my slick lips to prove it.

“Deeper,” I begged, demanding satisfaction. He’d teased me long enough.

“Not yet,” he replied, gently and delicately running his tongue along the slit but not going any deeper. I was completely tensed up, my entire body stiff, anticipating his next move.

“So sweet,” he murmured, swiping his tongue along me again.

I could have cried, I was so frustrated. He must have taken pity on me because the next time I felt his tongue it was deep within my folds.

“Yes!” I gasped when he made contact with my aching bud. He held my lips open with his fingers, giving him full access to me. His tongue worked, swirling in circles around that little bundle of nerves, then flicking it back and forth. I felt the pressure in my center build and build the closer I got to my climax.

“Please, oh, please…more…yes…” My entire body was tensed and right on the edge. I grasped the back of his head and held it in place, grinding myself up into his face as my entire body began shaking and trembling, the orgasm spreading through me in waves. My thighs clenched, squeezing his head between them as his tongue continued to dance over me.

I thought I might break into a million pieces, the pleasure was so intense. Wave after wave washed over me in an endless flow. When he slid his fingers inside me to reach my G-spot, I almost leaped off the bed. One orgasm hadn’t ended before another started to build, growing faster than I could keep up with, until I was screaming again as he massaged that special place inside my sheath.

I was left trembling and whimpering in the aftermath. He climbed into bed, holding me close. Emotion swept over me, almost more than I could bear. He stroked my back and murmured in my ear as I came down from the height of so much pleasure. I didn’t understand how he managed to uncover this side of me. I was never the girl who cried after sex.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered once I was calm enough to speak. “I don’t usually do this.”

“It’s okay. As long as you’re not crying because I hurt you or anything.”

“No! Far from it. Though I was pretty sure you were trying to kill me for a minute there.”

He chuckled. “Worse things could happen than a girl crying because she feels so good.” He kissed my forehead, my cheeks. My mouth.

I knew it was like a point of pride for him, seeing how many times he could get me to come before I demanded he stop. I was happy to let him take me and do whatever he wanted, as long as I got to keep coming over and over like this.

He rolled me onto my back, still kissing me softly. I opened my legs, inviting him back inside. I couldn’t believe that after all that, I still wanted more. I was addicted to the way he felt inside me. Watching and listening to this man who had seemed so in control of himself when we first met, who was strong enough to lead a dangerous group of men, lose control of himself when he was inside me. It was better than any drug I could imagine.

“You feel incredible,” I whispered as he entered me again. I gasped, the feeling still so delicious. I didn’t think I would ever get used to it.

He rocked me slowly, barely moving at first. He teased both of us, driving himself slowly into me, so deep. I could only close my eyes and let this new pleasure consume me. And it did, but by inches. He was an expert, knowing just how to move to keep the fire growing and building without letting it flare out of control. He gently ground his length into me, kissing my neck and shoulders as he did. It was the sweetest thing I’d ever felt. It was like we were connecting, body and soul.

This was dangerous, but I couldn’t stop the thought. We weren’t just screwing. We were connecting on a deeper level. It was scary, this dangerous man moving into my heart the way he was. What was scarier was that I didn’t want him to stop. I wanted him, all of him. I had finally found someone who lit me on fire and brought happiness to my bruised heart even when I was lower than I’d ever been. I couldn’t let go of that.

My arms and legs tightened around him. I needed him as close as I could get him. He sighed deeply, thrusts coming more quickly now. My fire burned more steadily, and I used my legs against his butt to pull him harder and faster to me while I jerked upward. We moved like this, harder, faster, our cries mingling together until we both tensed. I cried out with my face in his neck, my nails digging into his back. We held each other in those first moments after coming, when I knew I felt the most vulnerable. I couldn’t speak for him, but his trembling told me he was feeling overcome as well.

I stroked the back of his head, kissing his neck until he pulled away and rolled over onto his back. I curled at his side, my head on his chest. It felt like the most natural thing in the world.

Oh, no
, I thought. I hoped I wasn’t falling for him.

***

I was having the most beautiful dream. We were having a picnic, Sabrina and I. It was a picture-perfect day, the blue sky filled with billowing clouds. A soft breeze brought the scent of salt water to my nose, the waves crashing along the edge of the beach far below our picnic blanket. From our spot on the bluff, I could see for miles in all directions.

She was wearing a white cotton dress which moved in the breeze. She looked so peaceful and angelic. I was so relieved, deep in my soul, to see her looking safe and have her here with me.

“Where were you, all this time?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Don’t ask questions,” she said. “It’s not worthwhile. There’s no time for all the answers. Let’s just sit and enjoy what we have, right now.”

“Where are we?” I asked. “I’ve never been here before.”

“No one is, until they are,” she said. “I had never been here before either. Now I come here all the time.”

“I can see why.” I looked out over the water. It seemed like I could see for miles.

“Mom’s just down there,” she said. She stretched out her arm, pointing to the sand. I shaded my eyes against the sun, and sure enough, there was our mother. She was here, too.

“How?” I asked.

She shrugged. “She’s always been here. She was here when I first came.” I marveled at this. On some level, I knew it was a dream. It had to be, if Mom was there. If this was so, I wanted never to wake up. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so happy, so totally at peace with myself and the world.

“I don’t ever want to leave you,” I said. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“You didn’t need to miss me. I was never very far away.”

“Where did you go?”

“Let’s not talk about that now. There are so many things to enjoy. Why do you want to keep talking about things that don’t matter anymore?”

“They don’t?”

“No. All that matters is what’s happening here and now. Isn’t it beautiful here?” Sabrina asked. I looked over, saw her radiant smile, and smiled in return.

“It is,” I agreed. “It’s like heaven.”

She nodded slowly, her smile widening. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

The sound of ringing ripped my eyes open. What was that noise? After two more rings, I realized it was the phone.

What time was it? It had to be the middle of the night, the sky still dark outside the window. My phone had been ringing. I must have left it downstairs.

I looked over to where Gabriel still softly snored. He slept like the dead.

The dead.
What had I been dreaming about? Sabrina. Had we been…in heaven?

I heard ringing, again. This time I felt compelled to get out of bed to see who was calling. At this time of night, it had to be important. I slid into my robe and tiptoed downstairs.

Where was my phone? We’d both been a little hasty when taking off our clothes. I blushed when I remembered what we’d done on the kitchen table. I would have to pull out the disinfecting wipes in the morning.

I thought I’d left my phone in my jacket pocket, so I went to the coat rack. It was there, but when I checked it, I saw that I had no missed calls. It must have been Gabriel’s phone that rang, then.

Sabrina. There she was, with me, in the picture from Christmas. Smiling up at me as my phone’s wallpaper. I felt a twinge of guilt in my chest. I was betraying her by sleeping with Gabriel. I knew it, and I felt awful about it. What would she think if she knew the man who was protecting her killer was sleeping in my bed at this minute? I touched my finger to the image, my dream coming back to me in little fragments. Had we both been dead? Was that what she’d been trying to tell me? My subconscious was working overtime lately.

Then, a buzzing noise. It was coming from the floor in front of the sofa. Gabriel’s jeans. I thought I would take the phone to him, let him know someone was desperately trying to get in touch with him. I found the phone in the back pocket and pulled it out.

The screen was lit up with a list of missed calls and messages. I didn’t mean to look, I truly didn’t, but it was all right there. I didn’t even need to open an app to see that a person named Thorn had been trying to get a hold of Gabriel.

Thorn. The name sounded familiar. I remembered Sabrina mentioning a person with that name—it stuck out because it was so unusual. Who named their kid Thorn? Or if it was a nickname, who chose that?

Was Thorn her boyfriend?

The last message, the one which had just come through when I was downstairs, made my blood run cold.
I need to talk to you about Sabrina. Come to my house when you get this.