by Gina Whitney
Though I didn’t see him watching me, I knew he was. One final, swirling suck. I let my lips pop loudly. Making jerking sounds of wetness, I tried the impossible: to swallow him. Breathing through my nose, I watched. He watched. I swallowed. The thickness of his cock swelling was all the indication I needed. He was ready to blow—hard. My throat relaxed and opened to accommodate his girth further. Abel hissed his thankfulness by thrusting deeply. Once. Twice. Three times. He growled loudly, face-fucking me into oblivion. Surprising even myself, I swallowed his gift of spicy goodness, humming my appreciation to this deity. Swallowing it down and suck-tonguing his Apadravya, I inwardly smiled as I milked every last drop of elixir.
With a final groan I fell back and let the fibers of the rug absorb my fatigue. Mentally and physically, I was wiped out. I rubbed my fingers through the filaments, trying desperately to soothe my restless soul. At the moment, I didn’t care where his was or what he was doing. His gentle fingers caressed my cheek. I closed my eyes, savoring his touch.
“Oh, babe, we’re not done. Come, I’ll carry you to my bedroom.” He bent and scooped me up. Swaddled in his arms, I caught the look in his hooded eyes. A few long strides, and we were in his bedroom. He gently laid me on his king size bed, then stepped back.
“I’m gonna take a quick shower. Care to join?” He motioned his hand to the bathroom in invitation.
“Nah, I’m good here for now. You go. If I change my mind, I’ll find you.” I smiled sleepily.
He nodded and left through the en-suite. Raising myself up to my forearms, I took in his room. So this is his room here. Monochromatic black and white made up a majority of his palate choice, aside from his poppy-red, silk shantung comforter. Everything was simple, yet elegant. It was clear to me that Abel sought home comforts and swathed the hotel room with his possessions. I guess a life on the road was a lonely one. Cocooning myself in the lush bedding, I concluded there was no better place. And no better thing than his scent. Lord above, if I could bottle his essence, I’d be a wealthy chick. Grabbing his pillow, I brought it to my nose, inhaling his heady alpha scent. A groan escaped me, and my clit was beyond engorged, it needed release. I needed to steal this pillow.
“Enjoying yourself?” he asked, his smile reaching his eyes. I cursed inwardly. Busted. He abruptly reached for my legs and pulled me across the bed. Holy shit. His eyes were alit with mischief. He pulled until my bottom was at the end of the bed. I laid there naked and started to feel self-conscious. I turned to grab the edge of the comforter.
“Don’t hide your body from me, Gia. Spread your legs for me. I want to see what’s mine. I want to taste your nectar,” he commands and I obey, spreading my legs. When he doesn’t respond, I get anxious. There’s a mirror on the wall next to the bed and I can see my reflection. What a turn on. Me watching him—us—as his eyes devoured my pussy. He removed his towel from his waist and turned to see me watching tentatively through the mirror. He grabbed hold of his thick cock, stroking and smiling as he watched me for a good long-ass minute. It was one big mind fuck—and I could barely hold my own. My blood boiled while I watched his erotic exhibition. Boy, was he a showman. He knelt down and seized both my thighs, pulling them back into a V across my chest. The image of us in the mirror is suggestive. He pressed his nose along my pussy, inhaling deeply.
“You’ve got such a pretty pussy, Gia. I’m a man starved for this pussy. When I’m done, I’m going to fuck you like the devil. My cock will be everything you’ve wished for, babe!” He winked. Cocky motherfucker. Holding my legs in place, he dove face-first into my pussy, pushing his tongue deep inside me—growling, devouring. The sounds of him sucking, licking, and nipping my pussy had my muscles locking up. I reached for his hair. I needed to touch him. I wanted to hold his head to my pussy until I was good and ready to let go.
“Gia, put your damn hands above your head or I will tie you to the bed,” he growled. I acquiesced. I would fucking die or kill someone if he stopped. Oh God, don’t stop.
“God has no place here, babe.” His voice was demonic. Did I just say that aloud? Never lifting his face from his meal, he pushed my knees almost flush against my chest, lathering his face in my juice. Oh, God. His growling, biting, and sucking were sounds I would never forget. He was feral. Possessed. Using two fingers, he started finger fucked me as he sucked my clit. My legs were shaking with deep vibrations and I started to rock my hips. Twisting the comforter in my hands, I started to scream my release. He didn’t stop. I barely registered the rumbling from his chest as I floated back down to earth. My eyes opened to a savage beast, leaning over to bite my inner thing. I yelped in surprise. He stood tall and proud, stoking his long, thick, massive cock; his face still glistening with my cum. Nothing registered to this alpha. He had one thing on his mind and that was sinking his gorgeous cock into my soaked pussy.
“You want this cock now, babe?” he asked through gritted teeth. Still stroking his cock, he spit in his hand. Fucking hell.
“Please, Abel. I want you now,” I begged. I needed him now.
“Need to hear you say it, babe. Tell me you want me to sink my cock deep into you.” His voice was barely audible.
The grit in his tone had me wanting to grab his dick and fuck myself with it. He was watching me closely, his control threadbare.
“Abel, fuck me with that big gorgeous cock of yours. Grind that piercing over my clit,” I hissed. That did it! He couldn’t wait another minute—neither could I. He teased the entrance with the head of his cock. Going agonizingly slow, he paid special attention to my clit with his Apadravya; back and forth, round and round. The pressure mounted. I couldn’t handle another second of the exquisite torture. I leaned forward and grabbed his cock—hard.
“Stop fucking with me, fucker, and fuck me already,” I pleaded. He answered by feeding me his cock—one motherfucking inch at a time.
“I have to loosen you up a bit. I can’t go balls deep yet. Let me work myself in there. Love my girls greedy for my cock. Gets me harder than fucking stone,” he growled breathlessly. Leaning over me, his eyes hooded, he fed me his delicious, scorching cock. He leaned down over my face, arms positioned on either side of my head. His warm breath hummed in my ear as his hand reached down to stroke my clit.
“Come on, babe. Open for me,” he rumbled. His thrusting became a bit harder and quicker, and I felt my body opening up for this mythical creature. My eyes closed tightly and I tried to wrap my legs around his waist to lock him in place.
“Not yet, babe. I haven’t worked in my rings yet. I’ll tell you when you need to hang on.” He nipped my ear. I sighed. Fuck, I thought he was all the way in. Christ, I’m not built for this kind of torment. I reached down to his butt cheeks and clamped down with my hands, pulling him deeper into me. He corkscrewed his ass over and over. I screamed my pleasure.
“That’s it, mama. Scream for me. You’ll be doing a lot more of that,” he exclaimed. Biting my lip to stay present and not float away, I took a mental screenshot of this moment. I felt so full. My walls stretched to accommodate his girth. With each thrust, he sank deeper. And I fell a little harder. Yeah, I was fucked. Literally. The sound of my blood pumping through my veins roared in my ears. I couldn’t tell if it was my breathing or his that echoed around me. It was a hodgepodge of ecstasy. He placed his hands over mine, pinning them above my head.
“Arch your back for me, babe, and spread those pretty legs nice and wide. I’m going to own this pussy right the fuck now,” he hissed. I did as he asked, completely submitting. After all, this was what he asked for: complete and utter submission.
“That’s it, babe. Offer me that sweet cunt,” he whispered. How did he make my least favorite word sound like a fucking sonnet? I felt so incredible—so alive, our bodies in tune with one another, rutting rhythmically in a crescendo of lust. His frenum rings hitting spots I’ve never sensed before, he manipulated my body with expert precision. I regarded his handsome face, relishing this beautiful man on top of me. His eyes bor
e into me with stealth precision. Looking directly into my soul, he smiled wickedly, then kissed me deeply. Arrogant prick. Yeah, he knew he was the best ride in town. Fuck me.
Grinding my heels into the mattress to get better leverage, I met him thrust for thrust. He moved his fingers from my clit. With his other hand still pinning my arms above my head, he pushed my right thigh up from under my knee. Just then, he hit a whole new angle and I lost it. Screaming his name, I clenched my pussy, squeezing his cock. As he jack-hammered me, I felt his head swell further. He released my hands, rushing to his knees. After a few long strokes of his dick, his hot, thick ropes of cum painted my tits and stomach. Yeah, he was an artist, all right. His eyes were closed, his mouth parted. His breathing was hurried, his body still. He looked like a fucking god—absolutely stunning. I will never get this image out of my head.
He finally opened his eyes—to see his handiwork, watching me closely. I smiled in post-coital bliss. I was blissed the fuck out. He leaned over and on top of me, kissing me with his full lips, coaxing my mouth open with his talented, wicked tongue, and not caring that his cum was smeared all over his body. Most men would mind. But he wasn’t most men. I accepted with a moan.
He kissed me for a long while until sleep drew me under. I slept without dreams, with just the sensation floating behind my eyes of colorful, pastel swirls. I barely had a conscious thought; it felt much akin to Alice and the rabbit hole. My body was enveloped in his scent, marking me right down to the bone. I would forever be his—whether he knew it or not. His to control. His to do with as he wished. His to consume, to eat away at my very soul. I was in that deep. My veins ran with his essence, the fuel, the nourishment that my body craved. His melodic gritty voice carried me to the surface of consciousness. It was faint, but spoke to my heart—awakening me. I opened my eyes, seeking him out. He was singing an acappella version of …? What song was that? I knew it wasn’t one of Lethal Abel’s. I listened keenly, searching for any frame of reference. Oh, I knew what it was! It was his cover of “Dark Horse.” His had an edge to it. Nonetheless, it was beautiful. And more importantly, it was quintessential Abel. He mastered everything he did. It was always on his terms.
Make me your cupid—
Make me your one and only
But don’t make me your enemy, your enemy, your enemy
So you wanna play with magic
Girl, you should know what you’re falling for
Baby, do you dare to do this?
‘Cause I’m coming at you like a dark horse
Are you ready for a perfect storm, a perfect storm?
‘Cause once you’re mine, there’s no going back …
Oh, God. His version of reality was quickly becoming mine. I laid back down and let his voice pull me back under again, swathing me in his gravelly tones—carrying me to him.
* * *
[Listen to OLN’s version of “Dark Horse” here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cKVknRFEhpc.]
* * *
:
Getting a job at Gunner ESQ was a dream come true—or the beginning of my dreams coming true. The brick fascia building loomed in comparison to the other buildings. Its cold, detached stature gave a feeling of wealth and privilege. Large, bay-front windows gave its occupants a spectacular view of Colorado’s snow-peaked mountain tops.
I acquired this job with the assumption that I would run into Mr. Timothy Gunner’s gorgeous, rock-star son, Abel. This scion’s son was a dreamy tatted-sleeved god that had my girly parts thick with cream and clenching. Thank God for my roommate, and sister from another mister, Cindy. I owed her everything. After all, it was all her doing that I had a desk in this salacious world of moneyed elitists, aiding me in my quest to get tall, dark, and dangerous into my clutches, and then appropriately in my bed. We had a bet going that I couldn’t succeed in bedding this enigma. Hands down, I stepped up and accepted the challenge. Fuck, yeah! I’m no pussy to challenges. I wear that shit like a badge of honor. Besides, I need to get out of this Podunk town and in to his Beverley Hills estate.
All I needed was to lay on copious amounts of tease and sex while he was here on one of his impromptu visits with his dad. It seems this bad-boy got himself in a jam with one of his conquests. I snuck a peek at a confidential file in Mr. Gunner’s office. Yeah, I could lose my job if I were caught—but I was all ninja and shit.
“Incoming,” Cindy blurted manically as she rounded the corner of my desk walking to hers. Cindy was a tall, waify blonde with the grace of a runway model, the mouth of a dock worker, and in addition, she was on the official Karma police street team. Her blue-grey eyes, long legs that went on for days, and lengthy, thick blond tendrils reached the middle of her behind. Cindy loved the law, loved having that conversant edge over people. Not enough to practice it, but enough that being a law secretary was her only option.
“Incoming?” I asked. What was she getting at this early I wondered?
“Incoming. Hello. As in: the eagle has landed, chick,” she huffed with her signature eye roll.
“Speak fucking English, will you!” I snapped. Christ almighty, it was 9am and I already wanted to pound her face in—hard.
“Abel—you fucking retard!” she spoke through gritted teeth as she sat at her desk, clearly frustrated with my lack of understanding. The fuck. I quickly reached under my desk for my makeup bag, rummaging through it blindly till I landed on my favorite lip gloss. I wanted my lips glistening to the point of obscenity. I left nothing to chance. Chance was the fist-fucker of all fist-fuckers—and I left nothing to it. I had enough squandered opportunities in my life to know this intimately. One breath in. One long breath out.
A foreboding shadow hung in the doorway. Christ almighty. I swallowed, allowing my eyes to take in fucking perfection at its finest. My eyes found their way, climbing ever so slowly, to his beautiful face. I gasped audibly. One breath in. One long breath out. A bolt of white-hot energy ran from my nipples to my clit. Weirdly, my thoughts drifted to Ben-fucking-Franklin. My eyes closed on their own accord, as I mentally collected myself, refocusing on the task at hand.
“Good morning, Mr. Gunner.” I smiled congenially, and then he turned to Cindy.
“Morning Cin,” he warmly greeted her. My heart squeezed for a moment at his playfulness and familiarity. He readjusted his eyes, bringing my face back into focus.
“Call me Abel.” A slow smile played on his perfect lips. Yeah, my eyes were there. God, they were luscious lips. Mmm. Probably tasted yummy, too. Speaking of tasting … My eyes paid his body another visit. Quickly jerking my eyes upward, I met his enigmatic eyes: perfect brows framed his face, and his strong jaw line accentuated his perfect cupid dimple, making him incredibly handsome—mouthwatering.
“Okay, Abel it is,” I replied, licking my own lips. Mine, mine, mine, my lascivious mind chanted. My body was battling an internal war that was quickly spiraling out of this galaxy.
“Can I get you some coffee, tea, or water?” I offered.
“Nope.” He gestured to his venti Starbucks cup. Duh. Man, he was an addict just like me. This was perfect. He leaned in, bracing himself with his hands on my desk, scanning the top of it. I leaned back with wide eyes. He grabbed my name plate, gesturing to it.
“Gia Mastro.” His raspy voice was velvet to my ears. He arched his picture-perfect brow.
“Ms. Gia Mastro.” I accentuated the Ms. so there was no misunderstanding that I was available—unattached.
“That’s a beautiful name, Gia.” He fingered his front pocket for a piece of gum, then put it in his mouth.
Cindy and I watched in intense fascination as he chewed, his Adam’s apple riding up and down his throat like an elevator. Damn. What woman doesn’t find a man’s Adam’s apple sexy? As he stared to and fro, between Cindy and me, I took the opportunity to lean forward to better access his wears. He wore a closely fitted, consider yourself saved tee-shirt that clung to every ripple of his muscled chest. Dark-washed, black denim enveloped his thick, long le
gs, leaving that all-important V to peek out, winking at me. Oh, what do we have here? A hint of a colorful tattoo came dangerously close to his happy trail and disappeared into his pants. Going lower still, my eyes zeroed in on his maleness. Oh my. Was he turned on? Gesù Cristo. Jesus Christ. Gulp. Eyes up! Eyes up! I willed my mouth to speak, as I was quite positive I had just gotten busted for checking out his dick.
“Ah, thank you. Abel’s also very beautiful.” Ugh! “I mean, it’s different. But it suits you.” I tilted my tongue-tied head, awaiting his response. His eyes flashed a warning: heat, and a glint of danger—all of which sent a flood right down to my basement.
“Yeah, it’s cool. Anyway, I’m out. Nice meeting you, Gia. Enjoy the day, ladies.” He turned and was gone in three strides.
Still in a fog, I stood up from my solid cherrywood desk, pushed back my rolling leather chair, and was hit from behind with the force of an NFL fullback. I lost my balance, catching myself awkwardly on my file cabinet. I steadied myself and whirled around to give Cindy a what-the-fuck-for look.
“You’ve got to be fuckin’ shittin’ me?” Grabbing my arm mightily, she nearly yanked it free from the socket.
“We need to talk. Bathroom. Now!” she huffed. I acknowledged her by ripping my arm back.
“Pipe down, you twat. Just wait a goddamn minute and stop making a fucking scene, jackass.”
I rolled my eyes hard while massaging my injured arm. What the fuck. Apparently we were still practicing grade-school etiquette when it came to boys.
“What the fuck ever, G. Let’s go now, before Mr. I’m-gonna-hump-you-where-you-stand comes back.” She grabbed my arm—again. But this time, I went with her theatrics. I needed to break this shit down, second by second, to see if we came up with the same plausible possibilities. He wanted me. Sure as fuck: he wanted me. I was 100% clear on that shit. Unless it was my deluded mind again, seeing what it wanted. My mind had that shit down-pat: it fed my sickness, and shoveled mental acid to this day-tripper. Damn. I didn’t know what the fuck just happened.
