by Kaia Bennett
He heard her shriek, distantly felt her struggling against his hold on her hair. But he wasn't listening now. He was on auto-pilot. He shoved her onto the bed, already pulling his unbuckled belt from the loops of his open jeans while she turned onto her side. Her legs were scrunched up, her fingers shaking in the sheets and her hair covering her face. She was heaving in great gulps of air, her dark gaze flitting from his to where he snapped his belt out of the loops. She shuddered and backed away when he came towards the bed with a sinister purpose. In an instant he was on top of her, covering her mouth while she shrieked again.
She swung at him, pushing him away from her, screaming, “If you want to fuck someone you should go find Meredith! I’m sure she’s out there waiting for—”
"Now you want to talk, huh? Now you want to make some fucking noise?" he hissed, clamping his hand over her mouth before replacing it with his own. She pushed and jerked under him, but he kept her pinned as his tongue entwined with hers in an angry dance.
He wanted to hate himself then. He wanted to see himself for what he was. But he was turned on now, too turned on to care she was pushing him away. This was what she'd wanted to see. The truth. Who he really was. She'd asked for it and he was going to give it to her.
He grabbed one hand and then the other, releasing her mouth so he could watch as he gripped her wrists in his larger hand.
"Fuck you, Gabriel!" Her voice was laced with arousal even now. And maybe fear? He heard her breath rattle in her chest when he took his belt and wrapped it around her small wrists, looping the end through the buckle and pulling it taut. That's when she really started to fight him, twisting under him and the straddle he had over her hips.
"Thought this was what you wanted, Nic. You wanted to see everything, know everything, right?" He was gruffer than he'd ever been, meaner, if only because he loved her more, wanted her more than he'd ever wanted any other woman. If only because she'd hurt him so much by doubting he could be the good man he wanted to be for her.
He shoved her dress up and pushed her legs apart. There was his treasure, waiting for him to claim. He pulled the belt tighter to hold her arms in place over her head, licked his fingers, and then went to work on her vulnerable pussy.
She gasped and arched into the familiarity of his fingers. But he was harsher somehow, faster than usual. One of his legs positioned itself between hers, pushing her thighs open wider, and in an instant he was stretching her open, sliding three fingers into her tight, juicy center.
"F-fuck!" she whimpered. The shock of his fingers buried inside of her and feeling so good was rivaled only by disbelief at her own fear, at how wet she was by his rough treatment. She was already starting to come when he picked up speed, shoving his thick digits into her wet, plush pussy.
"Gabriel…” she moaned, grasping for the control she'd already lost. “God, don’t sto—ahhhh!"
She bit her tongue to stop herself from begging him to keep going. This was a matter of pride now. He could make her come but she wouldn’t beg. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
That didn’t stop her body from taking all the satisfaction he dished out. She arched into his fingers, riding them like they were the powerful tool rubbing against her hip through his jeans. In no time at all she was coming over them, her desire coating his fingers in spite of her anger and fear. She recovered while she heard the rustle of denim against his skin, sliding down his hips. Her arms were still bound in the relentless grip of the leather of the belt. Her dress was shoved up over her breasts, breasts that were tingling with arousal. Her nipples were hard to the point of pain.
"Tell me you want it," he growled against her ear, rubbing the head of his dick against the swollen flesh between her legs.
"Fuck you," she hissed instead. She couldn't tell if she meant it, or if she was egging him on, but the look on his face was enough to make her entire body go up in flames. Even now she couldn't help but want and need him inside her. She didn't know if she'd ever wanted him more and that feeling of need, even in the harshness of this union, was enough to overwhelm her.
"Oh, I'm gonna make sure you do, little girl," he said just before he shoved himself into her with brutal abandon.
She screamed at being impaled so quickly, at being fucked so hard seconds later. His pace was staggering. It made her eyes water and her breath short. His hips lunged into hers with such force it drove her into the bed, made her turn her head and bite into the sheets. If she'd had her hands free she'd have covered her mouth. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her overwhelmed by pleasure.
He rose up, looking down at her while he tugged on the belt until her arms were folded into her chest. He used it as his brace while he shot his hips into hers, burying himself deep, hard and all she could do was clench around him
She knew he could see everything, every second of her unraveling. Naked in every way imaginable, she bit down on her lip and came, screamed, her eyes grew teary and her lips dripped with curses as another orgasm rose within her. Her breasts bobbed between her bound arms, and he smacked them, fucked her faster. The bed rocked against the wall, her entire body racked by his punishing rhythm, and still she tried in vain to silence her own arousal, her moans of pleasure.
He pulled out, his cock soaked in her juices and she watched as a trail of spit from his mouth dribbled down to the angry red tip of his member. She gasped, shuddered as he positioned the head against the tiny puckered star below her swollen pussy. She tried to squirm away, which only stirred up the beast in him and made him shove the head of his cock into her tense ass quicker.
Something between a squeak, a sob, and a growl exited her throat as he stretched her open. This was wrong. This was rough, and cruel. She shouldn't want it. She was almost positive she didn't, that this had to be against her will.
But it felt so good, too. Being filled by him, watching his face contort with the pleasure and hearing his moan as he forced himself deeper inside of her. She cried out again, thinking how it almost hurt for him to feel this good inside of her. She wished she didn't want him so much, that she could deny his hold over her body. But she was too consumed by pleasure to deny anything, just like he knew she would be.
His thrusts started out shallow and quick as he stretched her open, but didn't stay that way. Each lunge pushed him deeper into her, possessed more of her. He popped his hips forward hard and held them there, groaning and trying to catch his breath even as he stole hers. She was arched against the bed, her legs spread wide around his hips.
"This is what you wanted, isn't that right, dirty girl?" he growled over her, gripping her hair with one hand so she would look at him, the belt with the other so he could brace his thrusts.
She was starting to come again, and his body was flush with the telltale signs of his impending release. She knew he’d want surrender soon.
"You like getting fucked like a little whore? Hmm? All you needed was this big cock to set you right…"
She wanted to say it. She used to love saying dirty things for him. But how many other girls had he made say those words? How many times had he made Meredith say them? Would Meredith have still been here if Nicole hadn’t revealed her fear and anxiety?
She braced herself against the fast approaching orgasm. But she turned her face away from his as much as she could when he was gripping her hair. His lips were on her cheek, his harsh breath huffing against her skin. He was fucking her harder, whispering his orders for her to say the words. But she wouldn't. She couldn't.
She disappeared into the feel of his unsteady breaths, so much like her own. She sunk into the feel of him plunging into her, gritted her teeth, a whimper caught in her closed throat. She didn’t say the words, only a strangled cry, a litany of gasps and curses. She bucked against him, shaking hard as she came, shivering so uncontrollably she thought she would burst out of her skin. If only she could. If only she could escape the hold he had over her just for a moment, along with all her anger and the insecurity he in
spired.
She didn't realize until she finally opened her eyes that she was crying. Silent tears that made the world shimmer around her. The world, her body, the bed shook as he barreled towards his own release. His growl against her ear made her shiver again and lean up into him. But she still couldn't bring herself to look at him. She didn't want him to see her crying. So she kept her eyes facing away, hoping her hair would shield the vulnerability in her gaze.
Gabriel's orgasm was relentless. It seemed like forever before he could stop feeling her soft warm body tug the pleasure from his. He pumped hard long strokes in those final moments, shivering at the end of each one. His hands shook, he convulsed involuntarily. Her little whimpers didn't help matters. Every twist of her body under his and utterance from her lips drove him wild with desire for her. He felt like a beast. It was only when he opened his eyes, when his lips searched for hers and he found her turned away from him that his mind began to take over.
She was shivering under him. One tear traveled from the corner of her eye, over the slope of her nose. It disappeared, but not before he saw it. Not before he saw the tremble in her lips, and saw her hands still bound by his belt, clasped and shaking between their sweat-sheened bodies.
He lifted himself up, his arms shaky and practically useless. She didn't move. She didn't look at him. She just blinked and breathed. Blinked and breathed.
Closed her eyes.
And then gasped in a deep breath that ended in a sob.
He reached out to touch her face gently. He wanted so badly to comfort her and say he was sorry, but his lips wouldn't work. His voice was hoarse. "Nic..." was all he could manage to utter. The apology in that one syllable deeper than any "I'm sorry" he could manage. He wanted to reassure her with this gentle touch that he wasn't a monster.
But she flinched. She didn't turn to look at him. And he felt his heart break. He truly felt like a monster. It didn't matter that she'd come, that her body was still jerking against his with the occasional spasm from her release. It only mattered that she couldn't look him in the eye. It only mattered that the feel of her lips on his was missing, and he couldn't bring himself to kiss her now. He pulled her wrists free of his belt, tried again to soothe her as she tucked them into her chest again.
"Get out," she whispered. Her voice trembled at the end, but otherwise was steady. Calm.
"Nic... please—"
"I want you to l-leave. Now."
Before I change my mind... before I beg you to stay.
He swallowed hard, shaking as he pulled out of her. She winced as he exited her warmth, but he was so gentle now. She wanted to hold him. She wanted to hit him. She wanted how good he made her feel to be enough. But all she could hear was a quiet voice inside confirming her worst fears. She wasn’t going to be enough for him. He was holding himself back, trying to be something he didn’t really want to be, for her. How long would that last? How long had it lasted with Marta?
He looked so lost and scared then, as lost and scared as she felt underneath him. She felt like such a heartless bitch. He’d never wanted to be on the pedestal she put him on. She’d pushed him too hard.
"I was just giving you what you wanted. That's what you asked for, isn't it? The truth?" He knelt over her, tucking himself back into his jeans, and catching his breath as he ran a hand through his mussed hair. "Feel better now that you know who I really am?"
It was the cruelest question. Did she feel better now?
No, she didn't. She'd never felt worse in her life. She watched silently as he gathered up his clothes and left the room without so much as another word.
It wasn't until the door closed that she sobbed with abandon.
It wasn't until then that she realized there was no going back.
She lay like that for a long while, until she was spent from crying. And when she felt like she couldn't cry anymore, she stood. She dressed. And then she started to pack, knowing that when he came back to look for her, if he cared enough to, she'd already be long gone.
Chapter 24
This was the fourth time he'd called her in an hour. It had been three days since she'd gone without so much as a word, leaving him to find out she’d returned home through Callie. She refused to answer him. Not even so much as an "I hate you, I never want to see you again!" Not that he blamed her or even thought it was necessary. Packing up and leaving without saying goodbye meant pretty much the same thing, didn't it? If he could just talk to her, he could apologize for the way he acted. He would explain everything, tell her whatever she wanted to hear...
All the guys knew he'd had a fight with her and she'd left. There was no way they couldn't know based on his foul mood, and the drunken episode the night before. Everyone had seen her screaming at him, yelling about Meredith. It was no mystery that the drinks he was knocking back weren't all in good fun. But they kept their distance for the most part, all but Chase and Nuke.
Chase was beside him now, being mercifully silent as usual. He hadn't said anything other than to ask if Gabriel was okay. Gabriel didn't even bother to lie. Just shrugged his shoulders and turned to the crowd again. Just in time to see the catalyst for all his current misery coming towards him. Fucking bitch was everywhere, like a ghost. Just when he thought he was safe...
The irony was that in any other context Gabriel was living the dream. The club they were at was one of the best in town and they'd gotten in for free, living it up in the VIP section. The music was amazing. And as much as he hated to admit it, Meredith Rowe looked amazing too. He shouldn't have been able to notice that.
But she was in a red, orange and black dress that resembled more of a t-shirt than anything else. It was like a candy confection, a swirl of bright colors, clasped around her slim waist with a thick leather belt. Her long blonde and black locks were up in ponytail, leaving her pretty features open and free to peruse. She'd topped off the outfit with big black hoop earrings, spiked ankle boots, and every creamy inch of pale skin she could show off. It must be the alcohol talking, the sexual frustration. She didn't look that good. Nothing should look that good to him right now in his present state.
The irony of it all struck him then. He was supposed to be celebrating. He had everything he'd wanted and some things he hadn't even expected. He was a musician on the rise. He was making money. He was having fun. And out of nowhere he'd found a girl he loved more than he'd thought possible. He should be happy.
How pitiful that instead he was drowning away his thoughts at the bar, trying to avoid looking at the stumbling block from his past. How pathetic that he'd lost the best thing on that list of blessings in such record speed.
He couldn't even bring himself to look at Meredith. Not until she said her next words.
"I'm sorry Gabe. I didn't mean for things to work out the way they did. I didn't realize you liked her so much..."
He turned his dark eyes to her icy blue, and was shocked to see what he supposed was her attempt at genuine remorse.
"Oh, please fuck off already," he said, turning his back and snapping his fingers for a refill.
Chase's ever-vigilant gaze was on him, his friend silently smoking a cigarette and nodding his head to the music. Meredith noticed it too, because she shot him a glance. Chase didn't budge though. Just gave Mere a nod and what served as his smile before staring up at one of the TV screens above the bar.
"Can you just hear me out for a second? I mean, seriously, dude. When have you ever heard me apologize? For anything?"
Good point. As far as he could recall, ever since he'd known her Mere had been completely unapologetic. It used to be one of the things he liked about her. Her lack of shame. Funny how things changed.
"Talk."
She sighed and shook her head. Her eyes once again slid over Chase's unmoving figure. The gesture spoke a thousand words. So did Chase’s refusal to budge.
"Maybe someplace a little more private?"
"Not a chance," he said with a smirk, chugging on his beer. "You got something to s
ay, say it. Then resume fucking off."
"I was drunk, Gabe. I was just helping her out with something to wear, and I got caught up and it all slipped out. I told you I wasn't going to tell her about us and I really meant it. But, I just got caught up that night. I don't know what I was—”
She didn't get a chance to finish. He left her at the bar. But she followed him, her long legs keeping stride with his longer ones as he darted through the crowd. She reached out for him, tried to stop him. He shook her off and pressed on, moving quickly towards the men's bathroom.
He almost laughed when she followed him without pause into the bathroom on his path towards one of the urinals.
"Jesus Christ!" he yelled out around a bitter chuckle, spinning on her. "You really are fucking relentless, you know that? Did you read in Cosmo that stalkers are attractive or something?"
Meredith smiled back, the curve of her lips equal parts bitter and embarrassed. It was a strange look for her and it made him weary. He was so tired of the women in his life turning into strangers and fucking with his head.
"What do you want me to do?" she asked finally, shrugging her shoulders in surrender. "You refuse to talk to me. You refuse to hear me. Maybe if you'd listened to me sooner and just told your little girlfriend what the deal was, you could have saved yourself a lot of heartache."
He decided being in close quarters with her was a very bad idea. He might do something he wasn't proud of, like smash her skull through the wall. He started towards the door, reaching around her body, which was blocking it because she backed up, matching him step for step so he wouldn't be able to get away without physically moving her.
"Move, before I start to lose my patience," he said. His eyes bore into hers and he immediately regretted it. It was the intensity she'd been looking for, that fire in his gaze she'd always been able to manipulate and feed off of. Her expression went from strange to familiar. A small turn of her lips served as a smile.
