by Sweet, Izzy
The unmistakable soft beeps of a code being punched in hits my ears and a second later I feel a breeze of warm air as the door to the house swings open.
He moves forward and my self-preservation kicks in.
“Put me down, asshole,” I snarl and kick at him.
Grunting, he ignores my attempts to hurt him.
Hands finding purchase on his back, I try to push up, to slide out of his hold, but he suddenly lifts me up as if he’s adjusting my weight. Tossing me into the air like I’m a sack of potatoes.
My stomach leaves his shoulder before I come back down in an even worse position.
I’m so far down his back now, I’m afraid I’m going to fall on my damn head.
“Put me down!” I screech, both furious and terrified.
“No,” he says, his arm tightening across the back of my legs.
As he stomps through the house, I have to grab at his damn pants to keep from bouncing all over the place.
Tears of anger well up in my eyes.
Just when I thought he couldn’t push me further past my breaking point, he has to go and do something like this.
My feet kick uselessly at him as I helplessly watch the floor scroll by. It’s probably stupid of me to keep fighting him, given my precarious position, but I just can’t help it.
“I hate you,” I mutter when he comes to a stop.
“No, you don’t,” he sighs and pushes a door open.
The hardwood floor transitions into carpet.
“I do!” I insist.
The door slams shut behind us. He takes two steps forward, and before I can prepare myself, he’s tossing me onto a bed.
I let out a shrill screech as I land on the mattress on my back.
I bounce once, twice, before my body can get its bearings. Scrambling into action, I try to sit up only to have him push me back down by the shoulders.
“You don’t hate me, Meghan,” he says, looming over me.
He keeps me pinned down until I stop struggling. Until I accept that fighting his strength is futile.
Then he brushes some of the hair out of my eyes. “You just wish you did.”
The truth of those words cut right through me in a way that leaves me shaking. I do wish I could hate him. I wish I could despise him for the situation he’s put me in with all my heart.
Lord knows I’ve tried, but for some reason I can’t.
He’s just like every other monster in my life… and yet he’s not.
And I can’t fucking figure out what makes him different.
Taking in his face—his piercing eyes, his strong jaw, that bit of blonde scruff—I decide it’s not his looks. He’s fucking edible, yes. I’d love to sink my teeth into every inch of his body and bite down, but Alexei is arguably almost just as handsome.
His fingers tighten around my shoulders and his gaze continues to bore down on me.
It’s certainly not his personality. He’s just as overbearing and bossy as every other man I’ve ever dealt with.
He’s no saint, that’s for sure. Willing to kill… and even taking pleasure in it.
I want to say it’s because he’s tried to help me in his own, selfish way, but I’m not even sure it’s that.
No, it’s something else… It’s this damn spark between us. This intangible thing I can’t control, manipulate, destroy, or wish away, no matter how hard I try.
Even now it throbs inside me, pulsing through my limbs.
“Okay, I don’t hate you,” I grit out. “But I certainly don’t like you. So please, get the fuck off me.”
He seems to relax once I admit I don’t hate him. The look in his eyes even softens to something close to tenderness.
But he doesn’t move. He remains poised above me.
And the longer he looks at me, the more aware I become of the position I’m in. I’m pinned beneath him, completely at his mercy. We both know that he can do anything he wants to me.
We both know I can’t stop him.
For some strange, awful reason, my body finds this terribly exciting. My breath begins to quicken and a tingling sensation creeps over my skin.
I try to ignore it, but the longer he just stares down at me, the worse it gets.
Fuck, why does he have to be so damn handsome?
“Gabriel, please get off me,” I plead softly, switching tactics and hoping playing nice will get me my way.
“Well, since you asked so nicely…” he drawls out and suddenly pushes up.
He rises above me and grabs the bottom of his shirt before tugging it up and over his head.
Tossing the shirt away, his attention snaps back to me as I gasp.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I ask, frozen in place.
The sudden sight of his bare chest and all the naked skin is such a shock that I forget that I can move now.
“Finishing what we started in the parking lot,” he says as he reaches down to undo his pants.
“We didn’t start anything in the parking lot,” I sputter.
I know I should look away as his fingers yank down his zipper, but I can’t bring myself to do it. Instead, I watch, almost entranced, as he shoves his pants down to the floor and steps out of them.
Straightening, his expression darkens as he says, “You tried to run…”
“Yeah? So?” I push out of my throat.
The damn thing is closing up as my eyes take all of his glorious body in. He’s so damn big, all over, and so damn intimidating.
My thighs twitch with the muscle memory of him between them, and I squeeze my knees together in an attempt to stop it.
Lashes lowering, his already dark expression twists into something that’s downright feral. “Never run from me, Meghan.”
Suddenly he lunges for me.
Before I’m even aware of what I’m doing, I’m scrambling backward. My brain screaming for me to flee.
I don’t get far enough away, though. Grabbing me by the leg, he yanks me down the bed.
“Not only does it make me angry,” he grunts as he comes down on top of me.
I smack and slap at him as he releases my leg and slides up my body. I get one good slap in on his cheek and we both freeze.
I slapped him so hard my palm stings, and I seriously consider smacking him again, but fear holds me back.
One heartbeat passes, then another.
A slow, maniacal grin stretches across his lips. “It makes me hard.”
Grabbing up my hands like it’s no effort at all, he pins them above my head.
I writhe and twist, trying to escape his grip.
Bringing his weight down on top of me, he rolls his hips, his hard cock grinding into my sex. “It makes me need to stake my claim on you.”
Despite my panic, that rolling grind of his cock sends a spike of pure pleasure through me, and all it does is make me angry.
Did I say I didn’t hate him? Well, I think I change my mind…
“You already own me, asshole. We’re married,” I snarl at him. “What more do you want?”
Head dipping down, he licks and nips at my ear before he purrs, “I need to be inside you, Meghan.”
A wave of pure weakness flows over me and for a moment I’m dangerously close to melting beneath him. But then that fear, that pure, icy cold terror of all the things he could do to me rears its ugly head.
Switching both of my wrists into one of his hands, he begins to lick, nip, and suckle his way down my neck.
“I need to be buried so tight and deep, I know you can never get away from me again.”
My toes curl inside my boots even as my brain strains to think of a way to get him to stop before it’s too late.
If I let him in again… if I open myself up… he’ll completely destroy me.
His hand drags down my side and then his fingers grab at the waistband of my pants.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt out in a panic. “I promise I won’t run again.”
Slowly his head lifts up and his eyes clash with my eyes. It t
akes only one breath before I see doubt and mistrust staring right back at me.
I swear it looks like he can tell I’m lying.
“Oh yeah?”
I try to push down the thought that I’m running at the first chance I get, and say more firmly, “Yes. I won’t run, I promise.”
“That’s good,” he smiles, but the smile doesn’t move past his lips.
That should tip me off that he doesn’t totally believe me, but a bit of hope lights up inside me, regardless.
I find myself smiling back at him, even relaxing a little bit as his grip around my wrists loosens.
But then his hands are suddenly dropping down to my waist and he’s grabbing me by the hips.
He flips me over before my dumb brain can even process what the fuck is happening.
And then his hips are against me, his erection digging into my ass.
“Because the next time you run, I just might have to shove my cock up this juicy ass to feel better again.”
Gasping with a mixture of outrage and shock, I try to push up, try to crawl away from him, but he wastes no time in grabbing up my wrists again. Wastes no time shifting them into one of his hands so the other can yank down my pants.
“Don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare,” I cry out.
All his weight comes down on me, crushing me into the mattress.
I whimper as his mouth finds my ear. “Don’t I dare, what? Don’t I dare shove it in your ass?”
His hips grind into me, the hard length of his shaft sliding through the now bare flesh of my cheeks.
And I hate to admit it, but there’s something secretly thrilling about feeling him there, where no man has ever touched me before.
Despite my anger and fear, my core clenches and I feel myself getting wet.
“Or don’t I dare remind you that you’re mine and you don’t get to fucking run away from me?”
“Both!” I nearly wail, desperate to get out from underneath him anyway I can.
I’m already dangerously close to completely shattering. His weight alone stirring up the primal need to bend to him.
My body remembers last night, no matter how much brain wishes it could forget it.
Rocking his hips again, the crown of his cock slides down, pushing against my entrance.
“I have to, Meghan,” he growls into my ear, causing all the little hairs on my body to stand on end. “I have to… because I can’t fucking lose you.”
Hearing those words and the edge of desperation to them, the doubts that have been plaguing me suddenly feel so far away. Floating out of my reach. I want to grab them, I want to hold onto to them, but it’s becoming harder and harder to care about anything but how he feels against me.
That despite all our differences, we just seem to fucking fit.
Working that hand that pulled down my pants around my hip, his fingers push between me and the bed, exploring me. Sliding through my slick folds and spreading me wider for him.
“I can’t lose the best fucking thing to ever happen to me,” he groans, his fingers dragging up and finding my clit.
He begins to work them against me, and it’s everything I can do to keep from moaning and grinding myself into him. To keep myself from giving into this sickness he’s infecting me with.
Now that I know what he’s capable of, what kind of man he truly is, I shouldn’t be getting off on his touch.
But I am.
Even knowing that the very fingers that are giving me pleasure have caused pain and death isn’t enough to stop me from enjoying it.
If anything, it only amplifies it.
His fingers swirl around and around in my wetness, and I can no longer stop myself. My hips begin to move in rhythm with him until I’m practically humping the bed.
“I can’t lose the little slice of heaven I’ve found after ten fucking years of hell,” he breathes into my ear.
The rough tips of his fingers suddenly pinch down on my clit and my hips buck as a jolt of pure pleasure shoots up my spine.
Madness. Pure madness has taken ahold of me. It’s the only explanation that makes any sense. To enjoy him pushing me... using his strength to overpower me… is so fucking wrong on so many levels, but I can’t help it.
It’s almost like I need this. I need to be shoved past my lines drawn in the sand.
I need someone strong enough to fucking throw me over them just like this for my own benefit.
Without giving me a chance to catch my breath or recover, he thrusts his hips forward, pushing himself into me.
Though I’m wet, I’m still too tight to take him, and this position certainly isn’t helping.
“Goddammit,” he grits out, rolling his hips and swirling his fingers against my clit as he tries to squeeze his thickness inside me. “Stop fighting me, baby.”
“I’m not… fighting…” I pant out in my own tortured frustration.
I’m so far beyond fighting him, I’m nearly delirious for him.
My body is desperate to feel his cock pushing inside me, breaking down the last of my defenses.
“You are,” he insists then releases his grip on my wrists.
Grabbing me roughly around the waist, he rolls us both onto our sides.
My chest expands, and without so much of his weight on top of me, I can finally take a full breath.
“You’re still fighting me, Meghan. Still trying to keep me out…”
With everything going on between my thighs, somehow I’m still able to sense him shoving my leggings further down my legs.
“And I’ll be damned if I let anything come between us.”
As soon as the elastic of my waistband makes it past my knees, he’s forcing my legs wider. Just wide enough that he can thrust up, his cock spreading me open.
I stiffen against him, my spine going ramrod straight as my walls struggle to stretch around him.
There’s so much of him, my belly fills with this strange flipping sensation. I try to swallow it back down, but it crawls over me until I’m uncontrollably trembling.
And just when I think he’s gone as deep inside me as he can go, he pushes in even further, making me feel as if I just might burst.
Finally, he reaches the spot where he can go no further without truly damaging me and stops, going completely still.
His strained breath in my ear, I realize I’m stretched so tightly around him I can feel my pulse throbbing around his thickness.
“This…” he pants, slowly withdrawing from me only to thrust his length back in. “This is what makes this life worth living...”
Slowly he works his cock in and out of me, gliding easily along my wetness.
And the most intense, most incredible sensations begin to build inside me. Ramping up with each deep stroke.
“I won’t let you push me out,” he grunts, picking up speed. “I won’t let you run from us.”
Little mewling sounds begin to slip from my lips, joining with the wet sounds of our joining.
There seems to be this one vulnerable spot inside me that he keeps hitting, so hypersensitive it steals my breath.
Faster and faster, he pumps inside me. His hips slapping against my ass. And all the sensations growing inside of me suddenly become so strong and overwhelming I can’t handle it.
I try to pull away only to have his arms suddenly come around me.
“No,” he nearly roars as his arms pull me back, clutching me against his chest. “Don’t you dare fucking run.”
“It’s too much, Gabriel!” I wail as he keeps me trapped against him as he rolls onto his back.
“It’s not enough,” he counters, his arms wrapping over my breasts. “It will never be enough.”
Heels digging into the bed, his arms tighten around me as he begins to slam himself inside me like he’ll die if he doesn’t.
Trapped against him in the embrace of his arms, I become frantic to escape. All the things assaulting my body feel so good, I swear he’s killing me.
C
lawing at his arms, I shake my head back and forth as I sob, “Gabriel, please! I can’t, I can’t.”
“You can,” he insists. “You fucking can, Meghan. Stop fucking fighting it, stop holding back.”
But I can’t stop fighting it or holding it back. The pleasure he’s inflicting on me is so good, so fucking strong, it almost hurts. And the orgasm looming in front of me is so steep, I don’t think I can survive the fall.
Then he kisses my cheek and says, “Trust me, baby. I’ve got you.”
I shouldn’t, but my entire body is throbbing in agony, my pussy quivering with the need for relief.
Releasing a hair-raising growl, he begins to piston himself inside me furiously, determined to push me over the edge, despite my refusal.
“Come for me. Come for me, goddammit,” he demands, and there’s just so much inside me I snap.
I go soaring over the edge, and the fall is so glorious, so fucking terrifying, I scream.
I scream because I’m afraid. I scream because it feels so good. But most of all I scream because there’s so much built up inside of me it’s the only way to release it.
“Yes,” Gabriel says in triumph as his hips slap hard against my ass. “That’s it, baby. I got you.”
I fall and fall, screaming the whole way down. But instead of crashing and breaking, he’s there to catch me.
I reach the bottom squeezed in his arms.
With a groan, he slams his cock deep one last time, and his warmth floods me as he murmurs sweet words of devotion.
And for once in my fucking life I feel safe.
I feel protected.
15
Gabriel
The shrill ring of my cellphone yanks me out from under the hot showerhead. I’m not entirely sure how long I’ve been standing under the heat. I’ve probably used up most of the hot water in the tank, but it’s been worth it.
I’ve been able to silence all the thoughts that rage and tear through my mind. I need to stay in the moment right now, to be the hand of destruction that Lucifer pulled me from hell to be.
The ringing ends as I step out of the shower and pull a towel around my waist. I can hear Meghan’s sleepy voice as she walks to the door. She’s talking to someone quietly before she opens the door and thrusts the phone toward me.
