A Dominant Fallen (A Dominant Series Book 2) (42 page)

“Then what the fuck are you waiting for...? Take me.”

He scoops me up into his arms and slams me against the wall, smashing his lips onto mine, hard. His tongue probes my mouth, fucking it roughly. He moves away from my lips, working down to my neck and chest then pulls away to look down at his oversized white dress shirt draping my small frame. He grasps onto it and rips it open, causing the buttons to fly off. He growls and comes back in for my chest, attacking with his lips and hands while I shimmy my way out of the torn shirt.

He grabs onto my wrists, pinning them to the wall above my head, and attacks me with his eager lips. His kisses sting as his delicious, abrasive stubble rubs my sensitive flesh raw. It’s divine. It’s just what I need…rough. His mouth trails back up to my lips, finding them with a desperate touch that melts my mind and weakens my body. I give into him completely.

He rips a hand from mine, still restrained above my head with the other, and shoves it in-between us, shifting my panties to the side. He slides his finger between my wet lips, locating my clit with effortlessness and strikes it with masterful flicks. He pulls me away from the wall and opens the door, walking us out into the studio and over to the bed. He never ceases his assault on the hypersensitive pink knot.

He stands at the end of the bed and tosses me onto the mattress. He watches me, scanning the outline of my body, highlighted by the city lights gently glowing through the floor to ceiling windows.

“I want you to take off your panties, Gabrielle, slowly, then spread your legs open wide for me.” His tone is staid yet soft, commanding my full attention without hesitation. His eyes are dark as he stares down upon me lying there for him, only him, scorching with the heat of a thousand suns.

I lace my fingers with the straps and remove them sluggishly, snaking my body as I take them down to my ankles. I push them off the rest of the way using my feet then spread myself open for him, revealing everything, including those tiny scars that decorate my inner thighs. They would’ve made me terribly uncomfortable when I first met Hunt, but not now. I know without a doubt, Hunt loves me, scars and all.

Then he confirms what I now know. “Look at you, Gabrielle. You’re fucking stunning…I will never have enough, ever.”

He walks about the bed, gently tracing his fingers along my aching, writhing body. He shifts himself onto the mattress, kneeling beside me with his hands placed on his thighs.

“Do you enjoy being choked, Gabrielle?”

What?!

“I’m not sure what you mean, Mr. Hunt.”

“When we were at the dungeon, that last night, you asked me to choke you while we fucked. Do you enjoy being choked, Gabrielle?”

Oh! The dungeon
…I remember taking a lot of pleasure in his hands firmly wrapped about my neck, but I also remember his reaction afterwards.

“Yes, sir, I do…May I speak freely?” I ask with apprehension in my voice.

He appears pleasantly surprised by my asking permission, but regains control of himself. “Yes, you may.”

“I’m not sure you do. The way you reacted toward it in the dungeon scared me. I don’t want that to happen again.”

“I love grasping my hand about that little pretty neck of yours…It wasn’t completely about choking you, Gabrielle. It was everything I’d done to you, everything I wanted to do to you.”

“Like hurt me?” I inquire with a befuddled look wrenching my face.

“God, no,” He appears disgusted by my question, “I could never hurt you, but I wanted to do things that would have taken you far past your boundaries, further than you were ready to go…We’ll talk more about this later. Right now, I’m going to make you cum.”

“Yes, sir,” I reply with an excited tremble.

He places his hand on my legs. “I’m going to need you to remain as still as possible.”

“Yes, sir.”

“That’s my girl,” he praises.

His hands begin their ascent, kneading at my tender skin, feeling every inch of my body. He presses his thumbs into the delicate flesh of my inner thigh until he reaches my wanting cleft, sliding a finger inside. Sluggishly fucking me with one hand, the other continues up over my hips and torso to my breasts. He pinches the hardening nipples with his fingers and sharply yanks them, snapping them back. My back arcs as he works me over.

His hand slithers up to my neck and clasps on firmly, putting enough pressure to remind me of his presence. His thumb finds my clit as his skilled finger, working my G spot, becomes two, and he quickens the pace. He goes fucking wild, fingering me hard and deep. My back bows and my whole body trembles. With his hand still holding onto my neck, he finger fucks me into submission.

The rapid attack on my tensing cunt causes rowdy, pleasure-induced cries to pour from my lips. I scream and beg for more, calling out his name over and over as my fingers claw urgently at the comforter. I feel myself building higher, forced closer to the edge of that beautiful abyss I crave.

He fucks me ruthlessly, his breath is stressed, and the veins in his forearms and brow are bulging from exertion. He bites down on his lip as he pummels my throbbing slit, his grasp becoming only slightly tighter about my neck. I can’t hold on much longer. I feel nothing but his hands on and in me, all my attention focused on these two areas of my body.

“I feel it, angel. Come for me. Show daddy how much you love when I please this perfect little cunt.”

That’s it! I give up fighting these sensations overwhelming my body, and I explode in a carnal exhibition of writhing delight. I scream and twist as my orgasm overpowers, taking complete control of me. My toes curl, and my muscles release with tremoring jerks while the warm waves of pleasure wash over me. I’m in a sexual haze that causes me to lose track of time and myself.

I slowly come back down, occasionally twitching, and realize I’m straddling Hunt’s lap, with his consoling arms wrapped tightly about me. My head slumps from weakness, resting heavily on his shoulder while I gasp for air, and my arms hang lazily at my sides. I want to fling them about his neck and hold him close, but I can barely move.

“Did that hit the spot, angel?” he asks, shifting hair out of my face.

“Yes,” I mumble, too tired to even speak.

He fists a handful of hair and hauls my head back to look into my sleepy eyes. “You need to rest, and I need to make us dinner. You must be famished.”

“Are we going to fuck?” I ask meekly.

“Ah, there’s my delicate little angel,” he softly teases and leans in to kiss me on the tip of my nose. “No, we aren’t going to fuck. This was about pleasing you.”

I don’t hate that.

“You know, I never claimed to be an angel, slick.”

He traces his finger down my nose and over my lips, staring deeply into my eyes. “You’re my angel, my filthy, defiant angel. And, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Glutton

I
t was a long day at work. With Olivia gone, everyone was scrambling to keep things running smoothly, but as the day wore on, things started to settle into place. There was a memo stating that a new Editor-in-Chief would be announced soon. Eliza Prescott, Olivia’s second-in-command, took over her position for now. She seems to have a pretty good handle on things, so we all assume it will be her. However, knowing Hunt, he’ll want someone who has experience leading a magazine.

At five, I head down to the lobby alone, ready to go straight home as I’d promised Hunt I would this morning. Hunt had to work late and he’s been on high alert lately with the wedding just on the horizon. He thinks Dante may attempt something.

I asked Chase to hang with me, but he had plans with Maya, so he left work early. They’ve been seeing a lot of each other lately. It shouldn’t be long before he asks her to go steady.

I’m exiting the building when I receive a text. I grab my cell from my purse and check the screen. It’s from Walker.

Shit.

I open it and my eyes fly open.

From:
Walker

To:
Ellie

Look up.

Received:

Wed July 23rd, 2014 5:07 PM

I hesitantly glance up, finding him standing beside Scarlett, my baby. He’s in a plain black tee, faded jeans, and worn leather boots, his uniform. He looks really good, and I know once he opens his mouth, I’ll end up doing whatever he asks of me.

I slowly walk up to him and say with a bit of a tone, “Why are you here, Walk?”

He cocks his head.

“Is dat any way to greet an old mate?” He asks with that delicious fucking brogue.

“Hello, Walker.”

“Much better. Now, how ‘bout a hug?”

“How about a friendly handshake?”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “Same ol’ feisty Gigi. Why don’t you and I go grab us a drink at the pub?”

“Alcohol and you?” I cross my arms and shake my head. “Not a smart mix.”

He smirks at me with his sexy, playful grin. “Afraid I’ll steal ye from yer little boyfriend?”

Apparently, he hasn’t heard the news, or he’s choosing to ignore it. It hasn’t exactly been a secret. The newspapers and blogs have been all over the wedding, when it’s happening, where it’s happening, who I’m wearing. It’s been exhausting having them at our every move and doesn’t help to keep us well hidden from Dante.

“Actually…”

I try to get the words out, but he cuts me off. “Come on, love, come have a little drink with me.”

Well, I do need to talk to him, and if I only have one drink, I can keep a sober eye on him.

“Fine, one drink,” I state, holding up a finger to drive the point home. “We have to talk anyway, and now’s as good a time as any.”

“Great,” he replies, grabbing the keys out of my hand. “I’ll drive.”

“I don’t think that’s a wise decision.”

He ignores me and opens the passenger door for me. “Get in, Gigi. I’ll take good care of her, I promise.”

“Hmmm,” I contemplate. “Fine, but I still don’t like it.”

I wonder how Hunt would react if he saw me with Walker, with him driving Scar. He would have a fucking aneurysm, punish me, and kill Walk. I shake the thought.

When I come out of my head, we’re headed up Hyde St. to my ex-watering hole, in my ex-neighborhood, around the corner from my ex-apartment, with my ex-boyfriend. This brings back memories of our glory days.

Before long, we are parking outside McClain’s Pub and heading inside. We find a booth in the front, near the stunning stained glass window, and Walker goes to the bar to order our poisons. I wait anxiously, ready to get this awful talk out of the way. He really was there for me when I needed him, but he needs to understand that we truly will never be.

When he arrives back at the table, he sets my whiskey neat in front of me.

“Dat’s a strong drink for a bitty thin’ such as yourself.”

Besides wine and champagne, this is Hunt’s favorite drink. It’s stupid, but I feel better holding it in my hands, as if, in some weird way, it’s him holding my hand.

“Yeah, Hunt turned me onto it,” I reply honestly, taking the slightest of sips.

“Oh, I see,” he murmurs, twirling the contents of his drink with a few twists of his wrist. “Well, it’s good to see ye, love. It’s been a minute.”

He takes a swig, inhaling half the contents of his amber-hued liquor.

“Yes,” I nod my head in agreement, “it has. A lot has happened since I last saw you.”

“Aye, the boyfriend,” he says into his glass. His brow pops up when he says the word, ‘
Boyfriend’
.

“Actually, he’s…”

“How’s work treatin’ ye?” he asks, interrupting my attempt.

“Work is work. I enjoy it, but it’s been hectic the past few days. How’s the painting going? Hopefully, you’ve found yourself a
new
muse.”

He lets out a quick, ha, and answers, “Aye, it’s goin’ really well…I have another show comin’ up in a few months.”

“That’s great, Walk. I’m happy for you…Speaking of being happy…”

I really want to tell him, but he keeps deflecting the topic. “How’ve ye been since yer da’s passing?”

Great, this is just what I wanted to talk about.

“Um, much better, thank you. But, I mean, it still hurts. I’ve been taking it one day at a time.” This is it, now or never. I’m going to get this out if it kills us both, and it just may. “Honestly, I’ve been so busy these past few months I haven’t really had time to think about it. The reason I’ve been so busy is…”

“I’m sorry you’ve had to…”

“Walker, will you please let me talk?” I snap. “I’m trying to tell you something.”

“You mean that yer gettin’ hitched,” he says with a blasé tone.

“How did you find out?” I inquire; though, I know it’s a stupid question.

He points to my hand. “The ring on yer finger was a pretty big clue.”