Chapter Eighteen-Giselle
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN-GISELLE
T he morning after the big date, after Angel fucks my ass for the first time ever, I wake up feeling a million different things.
The least of which is not completely satisfied.
I never thought I would like to have sex there . And honestly, if any other man attempted it, I would have likely knocked him over the head.
But Angel is just so, well, perfect.
Other men never know what to do with me. Not that there have been many, but still.
Not Angel, though. He is so confident and certain. So sensual and earthy. He knows exactly how to handle my body. How to conjure pleasure so pure, it’s sheer ecstasy.
A cramp starts low in my stomach, and I muffle my groan.
Damn.
I know I am getting my period. Like any second now.
My stomach does another twist, and I rush to the bathroom. I always get nauseous on the first day of my menstrual cycle.
So now here I am, in a gorgeous penthouse condo owned by one of the sexiest men alive. A man who had his big, thick cock inside my ass not six hours ago, making me feel like a sex goddess, and causing me to come so hard I definitely passed out for a few seconds afterwards.
And I’m bent over his toilet, dry heaving like I’m hung over. If ever a black hole could just open up and swallow someone alive, I wish it would happen right now.
But it doesn’t.
I heave again and feel the start of what are going to be some really shitty cramps coming on.
It takes a few more minutes of me just spitting out nothing in the toilet to settle my upset stomach. Just when I get it under control, I feel something cool pressing on the back of my neck.
I turn my head, and I see Angel. He’s holding a wet hand towel against the back of my neck, my hair is lifted in his other hand. He looks concerned.
“I’m not pregnant. It’s my period,” I blurt, and he frowns harder.
“I wasn’t gonna go there first, Koukla. I was worried maybe the sushi didn’t sit right,” he replies.
His voice is deep, but it’s soft. Almost tender, tentative even, like his touch, and it’s so contrary to how he handled me last night. But right here, it seems appropriate, and I think maybe I fall for him a little bit more.
Fuck, I am so embarrassed.
And why didn’t I think of bad sushi? It’s not like men naturally assume a woman is pregnant just because she gets sick. But I think I must be panicking a little.
That’s probably because the idea of having his baby doesn’t scare me half as much as it should.
Don’t even think about it , I tell myself.
But I can imagine myself holding a beautiful blue-eyed baby and I shiver.
I am so fucked.
It’s a ridiculous thought to have. I mean, I literally left the state because the idea of this man cheating on me was too much to handle. Imagine how I would feel if I was pregnant, and he just left me for someone else?
It’s too much to bear, so I don’t think about it for long.
I feel so confused. Angel is looking at me expectantly, and I want to scream.
Ugh, why is he so sexy first thing in the morning?
I take in his short hair, almost buzzed to his skull, and the fact he is shirtless. The boxer briefs he has on outline his half-hard cock and goddamn, I am ready to drool. Then I get another cramp, and I wince.
“Hey, it’s gonna be okay,” Angel whispers.
I close my eyes and bite my lip.
“What can I do for you, Little Doll? Tell me what you need,” he says, and I close my eyes.
Angel is usually a lot, but this is almost too much. I mean, does he really care about me, or is this just him?
Like, is this part of the whole experience of fucking Angel Fury?
It’s petty, and I am not proud of those thoughts. But I don’t stop having them. And I don’t think I am mature enough to deal with my apparent jealousy.
He’s so damn cute when he looks at me all confused and concerned.
So sexy.
He is really too good sometimes. But I think we should address the elephant in the room. The one I just brought up by blurting the fact I’m not pregnant.
“Oh, um, I think I have what I need in my suitcase,” I finally answer him, and I slide my butt down, so I am sitting on the cool tile.
“But there is something I think we need to discuss, that is,” I trail off.
“Whatever it is, you can tell me, Little Doll.”
And just like that, I’m undone.