Chapter 10 #2
Gabe holds the man’s gaze. There's more going on I don’t fully grasp. But then Gabe whirls away, grabs my arm, and drags me to a side door. More shouts and cries of joy follow and I catch glimpses of shots, cigars puffing, good-natured punches and a few hugs—
Until I’m dragged into a short hallway and pushed into a cramped storage room. Gabe roughly slams the door, drags a table covered in extra pans and cleaning supplies in front of it, and whirls on me.
“What the fuck was that?” I hiss at him and have to force myself to unclench my fists. My knuckles are white and my head’s dizzy. “You let him walk all over me.”
His gaze is blazing with rage and something else. I should back down. This man isn’t safe.
But I stay where I am, facing him.
“You have no idea what I’m going to do to him for that, kukolka.”
Little doll. I shiver at the nickname.
“I’m supposed to trust some vague revenge? He embarrassed me, Gabe.”
“Right now, I need Marat alive and thinking he’s in control.
That’s all you have to understand.” He steps closer.
The space is tight, and he’s large enough to fill it.
His smell assaults me, spicy and sharp, and the hungry way his eyes raze down to my breasts and back to my lips makes all the anger drain out, replaced by something else, something dark and primordial.
“They all think I’m your toy. You do too. That’s why you’re calling me your little doll.”
His lips quirk. “You like it, kukolka?”
“I hate it.”
“Good.” He reaches out fast and grips my hair. I gasp, arching unconsciously, pressing into him. He pulls me tight against him. “You shouldn’t have spoken out of turn.”
“Fuck you.” But he’s probably right. I don’t fully understand the stakes of the game we’re playing. I should trust him, but I don’t.
“Ah, darling, not yet.” He leans down, pulling my hair, revealing my throat. I push my hands to his muscular chest. His heart’s racing, which is a surprise. “You made my life more complicated, telling them you’re in control of the money… but I fucking liked the way you stood up for yourself.”
“What?” I shake my head, bewildered as his lips kiss along my neck. “You… liked it?! I was trying to give you a hard time.”
“You’re too fucking meek… but watching you act like a queen… like there’s iron in your spine… made my fucking cock hard.”
My jaw drops.
Well shit.
“I didn’t stand up for myself to get you off.” But my protest doesn’t sound very sure and he can see right through it.
His smile is hungry.
“No… but here we are.”
He devours my mouth with a meteoric kiss.
The heat of him makes arousal break out across my chest. My nipples stiffen and a gasp escapes my lips, straight into his throat.
His free hand moves up my body and roughly shoves the low cut of my dress aside, cupping my breasts as he kisses me, and he turns me like I’m his plaything, shoving me down onto the top of the table he has propped against the door.
It bangs loudly and I gasp, landing on my ass, knees spreading, and he eagerly pulls my dress up, kissing and sucking my lips, his taste sending whirls of bliss straight into my brainstem.
“What… are you doing?” His fingers graze down between my legs. He sucks my lower lip as he teases along my panties, stroking and sending pulses of heaven into my core. “Someone definitely heard that noise.”
“Good. Let them come check on us.”
“You seriously don’t care?”
“I seriously don’t care. You’re my wife. What’s wrong with tasting you?”
I arch, moaning as he kisses me again. This time, he shoves my panties aside and strokes along my seam, spreading me slowly.
It’s agonizing and God, it feels so good.
There are a dozen moments when I could pull away from him, tell him to stop, remind him that we’re not in a real relationship and he can’t touch me whenever he wants to.
But I keep my mouth shut. All my protests are drowned by how badly I want him.
This hate, this need, it’s all bound up, but most of all I keep thinking about the thrill and the terror I felt back in that room.
The warm glow of confidence. The power of all those men staring at me, most with hate in their eyes, and knowing they can’t do a damn thing about it.
Because Gabe is my husband… and he needs me.
Like I need him.
His fingers plunge inside. I arch into him, groaning his name softly as he kisses my neck.
He fucks me with his fingers like that, stroking in and out, whispering how good I feel and how beautiful I am, and how I deserve to burn this whole building to the ground.
I grind against his palm, whimpering, but he doesn’t stop.
He kisses lower, to my breasts, sucks one nipple and praises my body as he does it, going lower, spreading my legs, his mouth finding my inner thigh.
My heart’s racing in my chest. I’ve never had a man do this before.
Fear hits me, uncertainty, desire, need, it’s all warring—
But I want to be the woman I was in that room, standing in front of those powerful men, taking a little power for myself.
And that woman wouldn’t stop a gorgeous man from getting me off.
I clench my jaw as his mouth finds my pussy.
The moment his tongue laps me and he lets out the obscenest moan I’ve ever heard in my life—
I don’t have to fight anymore.
I crumble and melt right into his touch.
“Oh baby you taste so sweet,” he murmurs, sounding like he’s lost as he licks me, sucking and working my clit with his mouth like a demon.
I grip his hair whimpering, letting out these little moans I’ve never heard before.
I didn’t know I could make these noises, but I like it.
I didn’t know I could feel this good, and I need more.
“Don’t stop,” I plead, tightening my grip.
“You think I can stop now?” He slides his fingers into me.
I feel so full as his mouth sucks and licks my clit.
The sensation is overwhelming, so much more intense than anything I’ve felt before, but most of all because it’s him doing it to me.
His mouth eating me, licking me, praising me as he does it.
“You have such a pretty, delicious little pussy. How did I luck into a wife like you?”
“You mean… how did you luck… into my bank account?”
For a moment, he stops and looks up at me, fingers buried inside me, eyes blazing.
“I can get money anywhere. Money is common. Money is fucking easy. But you…” He trails off.
“So why didn’t you?”
There’s a moment where he looks unsure. But then he drops down between my legs again and the uncertainty is gone as he goes at me with twice the intensity as before.
His mouth is heaven and my head goes dizzy and wild as the table bangs against the wall in a rhythmic thump.
I know the whole damn place probably knows what’s going on but I can’t bring myself to stop it.
I don’t care what anyone thinks of me, and that’s not normal, none of this is normal. Which is a good thing.
Normal is small, quiet, meek. Normal is dying of mediocrity.
But now I can be more.
“Fuck, Gabe,” I moan, grinding into his mouth. “Oh my god, I’m so close.”
“I want to break you, Nika. I want to ruin you and taste you and swallow you, sweet fucking girl. Come for me, my beautiful wife, come for me right now and let me taste it.”
Oh god, that filthy man. His low, resonant voice shatters me. I break, like he wants, the orgasm ripping through my body in heavenly waves of bliss. I nearly black out, and I only realize I’m saying his name when it begins to fade.
He leans back, watching me with terrible eyes. I adjust myself, as he licks his fingers clean. Then he leans forward and kisses me. I taste myself on his lips.
“That’s a good girl,” he says and I shiver with how much I like hearing it.
“We should probably go back out there, right?”
“Those are my men. They can wait for as long as I tell them. Besides—“ He gently helps me put myself together. Panties back in place, dress fixed, hair smoothed. “They’re drinking and smoking on our dime.”
“What happened to running all the expenses by me?”
“Consider this my itemized report.”
I scowl at him, but I’m too happy from my post-orgasm haze to fight.
Which might’ve been his goal from the start, I realize, as he pushes the table away and steps into the hall.
This is the first time he’s officially using my money, and I need to set tight boundaries or else he’ll roll all over me.
But he turns and holds out a hand with a faint smile, and I feel my cheeks turn crimson.
God, I’m screwed.
For all my bullshit back in that room, I’m still the same girl I’ve always been, and when a strong man tells me to do something—I’ve learned to do it without complaining.
The consequences are better that way.
I let it pass, even knowing I shouldn’t, and a little piece of my confidence dies as I follow him back down the hall and into the meeting room.
Smoke fills the place. I notice more than a few knowing grins.
Gabe ignores them, but he does pull me into his conversations, especially when they stray to business.
I realize he’s establishing my role, making it clear that my speech earlier wasn’t all bullshit.
Maybe he can roll over me, he’s suggesting, but these men most certainly cannot.
Although I’m extremely aware of Marat's eyes on me the whole time from behind a cloud of smoke, a thoughtful and dark curl to his lips, like he’s considering a cut-open pig and wondering which parts are the best to eat.