‘Jesus, Gabe. What are you doing to me?’ I groaned, almost panting with wanting him.
‘I’m going to take my time eating your delicious pussy, Sam. You taste so fucking good and I’m going to savour every last drop of you,’ he growled. The movement of his lips and the vibration of his growling against my tender flesh had me writhing beneath him.
‘Please, Gabe,’ I whimpered. Having him so close but barely touching me was driving me insane. I thought about putting my hands on his head to hurry him along but I knew that would only slow him down even more.
When I felt like I could bear it no longer, his tongue dipped inside my opening, hot and soft and lush. Soon he was licking me, and then he sucked my throbbing clit into his mouth. I moaned in pleasure. I was bucking like a rodeo bronco but he didn’t increase his pace. I begged for his fingers too but his only response was to chuckle softly.
‘You’re so impatient, Sam. No wonder I have to tie you up.’
‘Please, Gabe. Let me come,’ I groaned. He’d had me on the table for an age and every time I came close to an orgasm, he re-directed his attention. ‘Please, Gabe,’ I whispered.
Thankfully he took pity on me. Pulling me closer to him, his touch became more persistent, sucking on the part of me where all my nerve endings came together. When the orgasm finally hit me it was overwhelming. It had been building for so long, I almost passed out. It filled up my body before bursting out through that one, delicious point. The spot where he continued licking and sucking until I was writhing beneath him again, telling him I couldn’t take anymore. I was too sensitive. I pulled at his hair to stop him but he kept a vice like grip on my legs, pulling me to his mouth with more force than I could pull him away.
‘Just one more, Sam,’ he growled. Within a few minutes the sensitivity gave way to ecstasy as he tipped me over the edge again and I was screaming his name, tears rolling down my face.
Gabriel stood up and folded himself over my body. He kissed me, his face wet with my arousal.
‘I really want to fuck you, Sam. But I can tell you’re sore from last night, and I have plans for later.’
‘That’s okay,’ I panted as I pushed him back down onto the chair and dropped to my knees so I was almost under the table. I pulled his beautiful big cock out of his boxer shorts and took it in my mouth. I lacked the same control as Gabriel had shown and I devoured him like I hadn’t eaten for weeks. He tasted so good. It wasn’t long before his hands were in my hair and he was pumping into me, hot, sticky liquid sliding down my throat. ‘Fuck, Sam!’ he hissed as he did.
I straddled him when I was finished and kissed his beautiful lips. ‘Thank you,’ he breathed when we came up for air.
‘You’re welcome, handsome,’ I grinned as I stood up.
As I was walking away from him, he slapped me on the behind. ‘So what’s for breakfast then? I’m starving.’
Chapter 38
Samantha
It had been a week since our wonderful weekend in the cottage and Gabriel and I were in my apartment. I perched on the edge of the armchair in my living room, chewing my thumbnail as I watched him reading the newspaper. I searched his face for a reaction, but as usual, he was completely unreadable. After a few more minutes, he folded the newspaper and placed it on the coffee table before leaning back against the sofa. I continued to watch him intently, looking for any hint of emotion. It had been twelve months since my ex-husband, Jackson had been arrested for my attempted murder. So, one of the national papers had run a piece on him — on both of us. The seemingly perfect couple who were anything but.
A journalist contact of mine had warned me the night before that the rag she worked for was going to run a story. But, despite knowing about it in advance, it still hit me like a twelve-tonne truck that morning when I saw it. Of course, they’d focused on mine and Jackson’s relationship, rather than the trial itself.
I was grateful at least that it was a Saturday and I didn’t have to go into work. I didn’t think I could face other people. I couldn’t bear to see their pitying glances. That had been the hardest thing to deal with after Jackson had been sentenced and the case hit the headlines of every newspaper going. It wasn’t every day a successful barrister, a Cambridge graduate from Knightsbridge, no less, and the son of a well-known politician, tried to murder his wife with a corkscrew, was it?
‘So, what do you think?’ I asked as I shifted from one foot to the other and resisted the urge to bite my fingernails.
Gabriel shook his head. ‘Just trying to sell papers, aren’t they? Shower of parasites.’
‘It makes me look like a victim though, doesn’t it?’
Gabriel frowned. ‘You were the victim, Sam. He tried to fucking kill you.’
‘I know that,’ I said with a sigh. ‘I mean it makes me look like I was this passive, meek little woman throughout our entire marriage, and that’s just not true.’
‘I know,’ Gabriel said. ‘Anyone who knows you, knows you are the least passive person on earth. What does it matter what some newspaper article says?’
‘That’s easy to say when it’s not about you, Gabe,’ I replied.
He reached for my hand and pulled me to sit next to him. ‘It will be old news by tomorrow. I promise,’ he said as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.
‘I hope you’re right.’
Gabriel studied my face. ‘I don’t get you and him. He just doesn’t seem your type at all.’
‘What can I say? He dazzled me. He was this mature, successful and charismatic man, and I was this naïve girl who hung on his every word. I suppose I was easy prey,’ I shrugged. ‘It’s easy to look back now and see all of the red flags, but I was inexperienced and ultimately, I was flattered that someone like him would choose me. By the time, I realised who Jackson really was, we were married and I was trapped.’
Gabriel hugged me tighter to him. ‘You weren’t easy prey, Sam,’ he said as he kissed the top of my head.
I closed my eyes and leaned my head against Gabriel’s chest as he flicked on the television. I had barely slept all night. My mind had been racing with memories of my life with Jackson. Sometimes I questioned my own memories of our life together. Surely, there must have been some happy times? I have no doubt that there were but I couldn’t recall any.
Money and power were all my ex-husband had ever known. He was born with it.
Privilege.
It meant that he took whatever he wanted when he wanted it. I was only nineteen when I met him. I’d just got a part-time admin job at a solicitor’s firm. He came in one day to meet with one of the partners. Every single woman in the office fancied him. They acted like they were on heat around him. He was already an incredibly successful barrister by then, and he had a smile that could make you forget what you walked into a room for. He wasn’t interested in any of the other girls in the office though. He was interested in me. He’d flirt with me, and me being me, I’d flirt back outrageously. But when he eventually asked me out, I was terrified. Flirting was one thing, but actually going out with him was another. But how could I say no? Every woman I knew wanted to date him, and he was so damn charming.
For our first date, he showed up to my student apartment in a brand-new Lamborghini. He showed me a world that I never knew existed. Flash cars, designer clothes, holidays to Monaco and St Tropez. I liked the way people treated me when I was with him — like I was someone special. It was a whirlwind and I was so caught up in it all I didn’t see the warning signs. How he chose my outfits all the time. How he was always helpfully suggesting what I should eat or drink. He was a selfish lover, not that I had much to compare him to, but he was only ever interested in his own pleasure. He didn’t like me seeing any of my friends but he convinced me that it was because he couldn’t bear not spending time with me. He didn’t like me talking to my father, because he didn’t approve of his criminal lifestyle — and that didn’t fit with the image of a good lawyer.
When he asked me to marry him, I thought that to be his wife
would mean I would be happy for the rest of my life. We moved back to London as soon as I graduated and got married when I was twenty-one and he was thirty-six. We were on our honeymoon in Sorrento when he first hit me. He slapped me across the face because I’d forgotten to arrange for his favourite shirt to be pressed at the hotel. He was so apologetic afterwards, I thought it was a one-off. But from then on the violence became more frequent and more extreme. He was a sadist and a psychopath. I didn’t realise that until I’d been married to him for over a year. He’d managed to keep his tendencies a secret until then. I tried to leave so many times but he always found me. He would never let me go. I was his trophy, and if I left him, it would make him look bad — and him being an egotistical maniac, he couldn’t have that.
So, over the years I learned to survive instead. I became very good at tolerating pain, and fighting back when I needed to. My work became my passion – I thought that was all I needed, until one day I realised that I deserved more.
On the night he was arrested, I told Jackson that I was leaving him for good. I told him that I wouldn’t run, but I wouldn’t be his plaything any more. I’d just made the move into family law and had spoken to a solicitor about a divorce, and I told him so. I knew it was a risky strategy, but I couldn’t go on living one more day with him — only living half a life. I think he really would have killed me if he hadn’t been interrupted — and I’ll bet the slippery bastard would have got away with it too.
‘Are you okay?’ Gabriel asked, snapping me from my thoughts.
‘Yes,’ I lied. ‘I’m just tired.’
‘Well, we can go back to bed if you want?’ he suggested.
‘And you say I’m insatiable?’ I said, giving him a nudge in the ribs.
‘I mean to sleep,’ he started to laugh. ‘We have nowhere to be. And we never got our sleep in.’
That was true. We usually slept late on a weekend, but that morning I had asked him to go to the newsagents at six am to get the newspaper. ‘Come on then,’ I said with a yawn as I stood up and took hold of his hand, pulling him up from the sofa with me.
A few moments later, I was lying in my favourite place in the world — with my head on Gabriel’s chest and with his giant arms wrapped around me.
Chapter 39
Samantha
It had been three days since the national newspaper had ran the story about me and Jackson, and thankfully, apart from the occasional unwanted stare in the local coffee shop and a few uncomfortable questions from a new client the previous day, the story hadn’t brought me too much unwanted attention. So much so, that I had allowed Nick to persuade me to test out his theory that it was already old news, by agreeing to go out for a few drinks to O’Malley’s after work.
I was packing away for the day when Gabriel walked into my office, looking as fine as ever, and making me question my decision to go out instead of letting him take me home and doing unspeakable things to me. He walked into the room and over to me before pulling me to him. He kissed me softly and I melted into his arms. A few seconds later, he pulled away, leaving me wanting more.
‘Did you miss me, baby?’ he asked as he brushed my hair behind my ear.
‘Only a little,’ I replied with a grin and he knew I was lying.
Then he took off his tie and stuffed it into his pocket before walking across the room and perching himself on the edge of my desk. The sight of him removing any piece of clothing made my womb contract. I closed my eyes as I remembered him restraining me with that very tie only a few days earlier.
‘So, what time are you and Nick off out?’ he asked.
‘In about ten minutes if he hurries up. You sure you don’t want to come with us?’
‘No. You go and have fun. I’m sure Nick is looking forward to some time with his best mate, and doesn’t want her boyfriend tagging along. Besides, it’ll give me a chance to check on our clubs. I’ve been neglecting my duties lately, ever since I started fucking you anyway,’ he growled and I felt his voice vibrating through my core.
‘Is that all we’re doing, Gabe? Fucking?’ I smiled and batted my eyelashes at him.
‘I suppose not, sometimes we do other things,’ he said with a smile.
I walked over to him and he pulled me to stand between his thighs. ‘Well, if it’s just sex, you won’t mind if I consider myself free and single tonight then, will you?’ I purred in his ear.
He pulled me closer to him. ‘Yes, I fucking will,’ he growled. ‘Don’t even joke about that. You know that you’re everything to me, Sam.’
Everything? I didn’t know that. He had never told me. I pulled his face to mine for a kiss.
‘I’ll tell Scott to be on stand-by to drive you home later. I’m not sure what time I’ll finish, and besides I don’t want to cramp your style, do I?’ he said with a grin.
‘We can get a taxi, Gabe. I’m sure Scott has better things to do with his time then ferry me around.’
‘Scott gets paid, and very well I might add, to do what your father and I tell him to do. He works in security. He protects things — and people,’ he added quickly before I could protest that I was not a thing. ‘And he knows he is very lucky to be trusted with the most precious person in the lives of both of his bosses. So, stop feeling sorry for him. He will drive you. Phone him when you need picking up. Do not attempt to get home on your own, Samantha. Promise me.’
‘Okay. I’ll phone Scott,’ I said with a smile before giving him a long, deep kiss.
A few hours later, Nick and I were suitably drunk in O’Malley’s pub, having demolished two bottles of wine in the space of two hours before moving onto Jack Daniels and coke.
‘I’ve missed this, Samantha. Us going out and getting plastered,’ Nick said with a grin.
‘Me too. Although I don’t miss you having to be my wingman,’ I replied. ‘You were bloody awful at it.’
‘Cheek! I haven’t been laid for twelve months, Samantha, and I’m the crap wingman?’
I stared at him. ‘You haven’t had sex for twelve months? Jesus Christ, Nick. Do you even remember what to do?’ I laughed.
‘Fuck off!’ he snapped at me before taking a swig of his drink.
Just as I was wondering who I could set Nick up with, I noticed a familiar auburn head bobbing across the pub towards the bar. I nudged Nick. ‘Hey, there’s Maria from Kents over there. I swear she’s got a thing for you.’
‘No, she hasn’t,’ he blushed. Nick had a thing for her too and had done for a while. She was a legal secretary at another firm we did a lot of business with.
‘I’m going over there. I’ll show you a real wingwoman,’ I said as I finished my drink and placed my glass on the table.
‘Samantha, don't-' he started, but I was already up off my seat and making my over to Maria.
One hour later and Nick and Maria were leaving together in a taxi. Feeling decidedly woozy, I phoned Scott to come and pick me up. Then I texted Gabriel to tell him how much I was missing him, and how horny I was. He replied with one word.
Behave
As I stood outside O’Malley’s, I recognised Scott’s car weaving its way through the traffic and waved my hand to get his attention. When he pulled up alongside me, I climbed into the back and kicked off my heels.
‘Take me to Gabriel’s please, Scott,’ I slurred.
‘Do you have a key for his place, Samantha? Only he’s out. There’s been an incident at one of the clubs.’
‘What sort of incident? Is everyone okay?’ I asked, suddenly feeling slightly less intoxicated.
‘I’m not sure. Your dad and Gabriel are okay though,’ he answered, knowing that their safety would be my primary concern.
‘Don’t you get fed up driving me around, Scott,’ I asked with a smile.
‘Not at all, Samantha. It’s one of the better jobs Gabriel has given me.’ He smiled at me in the rear-view mirror.
‘Doesn’t your girlfriend mind you being out late at night?’ I teased.
‘I don’t
have one.’
‘What? A handsome guy like you,’ I said, no longer teasing him. He really was handsome. Sandy blonde-hair and rippling biceps — what was not to like? ‘We need to sort that out, Scott. I can fix you up if you like. I just fixed my mate, Nick up.’
He laughed in response. ‘That’s okay, Samantha. Thanks anyway.’
Chapter 40
Gabriel
Samantha’s apartment was silent as I opened the front door. I’d knocked but there was no answer, not that I’d expected one. It wasn’t even 8am yet and given the text she’d sent me late the previous night, I imagined she’d be sleeping off a hangover. I used her spare key to let myself in. After the night I’d had, I couldn’t wait to crawl into bed with her and wrap my arms around her warm, soft body. I’d been in the hospital for half the night with one of our bouncers who’d been stabbed. I’d had to hold his wound together until the ambulance arrived.
I pushed open the door to Samantha’s bedroom, my eyes taking a few seconds to adjust to the dim light. But even in the darkness it wasn’t difficult to see the two naked bodies in her bed. Legs and arms wrapped around each other. Clothes strewn across the floor. I recognised the pattern to them — torn off each other in a desperate need to get to the good stuff. I felt sick. Bile rose in my throat and I forced it back down with a swallow. My whole body shook with anger. How the fuck could she do this to me — to us?
I wondered what her reaction would be if I made my presence known. I was tempted to find out, but also terrified of what I might to do if I didn’t get out of there. I could have happily murdered the poor bastard she’d decided to take home for a quick fuck. With my blood thundering in my ears, I slipped quietly out of the room.
Once I was back in my car, I phoned Sebastian. ‘Do you fancy a session on the pads, mate?’ I asked.
Dark Angel: A Dark Romance: London Ruthless Series Book 1 (The London Ruthless Series) Page 15
