Taking Meghan: Disciples 5

by Sweet, Izzy

  I writhe and twist, trying to escape his grip.

  Bringing his weight down on top of me, he rolls his hips, his hard cock grinding into my sex. “It makes me need to stake my claim on you.”

  Despite my panic, that rolling grind of his cock sends a spike of pure pleasure through me, and all it does is make me angry.

  Did I say I didn’t hate him? Well, I think I change my mind…

  “You already own me, asshole. We’re married,” I snarl at him. “What more do you want?”

  Head dipping down, he licks and nips at my ear before he purrs, “I need to be inside you, Meghan.”

  A wave of pure weakness flows over me and for a moment I’m dangerously close to melting beneath him. But then that fear, that pure, icy cold terror of all the things he could do to me rears its ugly head.

  Switching both of my wrists into one of his hands, he begins to lick, nip, and suckle his way down my neck.

  “I need to be buried so tight and deep, I know you can never get away from me again.”

  My toes curl inside my boots even as my brain strains to think of a way to get him to stop before it’s too late.

  If I let him in again… if I open myself up… he’ll completely destroy me.

  His hand drags down my side and then his fingers grab at the waistband of my pants.

  “I’m sorry,” I blurt out in a panic. “I promise I won’t run again.”

  Slowly his head lifts up and his eyes clash with my eyes. It takes only one breath before I see doubt and mistrust staring right back at me.

  I swear it looks like he can tell I’m lying.

  “Oh yeah?”

  I try to push down the thought that I’m running at the first chance I get, and say more firmly, “Yes. I won’t run, I promise.”

  “That’s good,” he smiles, but the smile doesn’t move past his lips.

  That should tip me off that he doesn’t totally believe me, but a bit of hope lights up inside me, regardless.

  I find myself smiling back at him, even relaxing a little bit as his grip around my wrists loosens.

  But then his hands are suddenly dropping down to my waist and he’s grabbing me by the hips.

  He flips me over before my dumb brain can even process what the fuck is happening.

  And then his hips are against me, his erection digging into my ass.

  “Because the next time you run, I just might have to shove my cock up this juicy ass to feel better again.”

  Gasping with a mixture of outrage and shock, I try to push up, try to crawl away from him, but he wastes no time in grabbing up my wrists again. Wastes no time shifting them into one of his hands so the other can yank down my pants.

  “Don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare,” I cry out.

  All his weight comes down on me, crushing me into the mattress.

  I whimper as his mouth finds my ear. “Don’t I dare, what? Don’t I dare shove it in your ass?”

  His hips grind into me, the hard length of his shaft sliding through the now bare flesh of my cheeks.

  And I hate to admit it, but there’s something secretly thrilling about feeling him there, where no man has ever touched me before.

  Despite my anger and fear, my core clenches and I feel myself getting wet.

  “Or don’t I dare remind you that you’re mine and you don’t get to fucking run away from me?”

  “Both!” I nearly wail, desperate to get out from underneath him anyway I can.

  I’m already dangerously close to completely shattering. His weight alone stirring up the primal need to bend to him.

  My body remembers last night, no matter how much brain wishes it could forget it.

  Rocking his hips again, the crown of his cock slides down, pushing against my entrance.

  “I have to, Meghan,” he growls into my ear, causing all the little hairs on my body to stand on end. “I have to… because I can’t fucking lose you.”

  Hearing those words and the edge of desperation to them, the doubts that have been plaguing me suddenly feel so far away. Floating out of my reach. I want to grab them, I want to hold onto to them, but it’s becoming harder and harder to care about anything but how he feels against me.

  That despite all our differences, we just seem to fucking fit.

  Working that hand that pulled down my pants around my hip, his fingers push between me and the bed, exploring me. Sliding through my slick folds and spreading me wider for him.

  “I can’t lose the best fucking thing to ever happen to me,” he groans, his fingers dragging up and finding my clit.

  He begins to work them against me, and it’s everything I can do to keep from moaning and grinding myself into him. To keep myself from giving into this sickness he’s infecting me with.

  Now that I know what he’s capable of, what kind of man he truly is, I shouldn’t be getting off on his touch.

  But I am.

  Even knowing that the very fingers that are giving me pleasure have caused pain and death isn’t enough to stop me from enjoying it.

  If anything, it only amplifies it.

  His fingers swirl around and around in my wetness, and I can no longer stop myself. My hips begin to move in rhythm with him until I’m practically humping the bed.

  “I can’t lose the little slice of heaven I’ve found after ten fucking years of hell,” he breathes into my ear.

  The rough tips of his fingers suddenly pinch down on my clit and my hips buck as a jolt of pure pleasure shoots up my spine.

  Madness. Pure madness has taken ahold of me. It’s the only explanation that makes any sense. To enjoy him pushing me... using his strength to overpower me… is so fucking wrong on so many levels, but I can’t help it.

  It’s almost like I need this. I need to be shoved past my lines drawn in the sand.

  I need someone strong enough to fucking throw me over them just like this for my own benefit.

  Without giving me a chance to catch my breath or recover, he thrusts his hips forward, pushing himself into me.

  Though I’m wet, I’m still too tight to take him, and this position certainly isn’t helping.

  “Goddammit,” he grits out, rolling his hips and swirling his fingers against my clit as he tries to squeeze his thickness inside me. “Stop fighting me, baby.”

  “I’m not… fighting…” I pant out in my own tortured frustration.

  I’m so far beyond fighting him, I’m nearly delirious for him.

  My body is desperate to feel his cock pushing inside me, breaking down the last of my defenses.

  “You are,” he insists then releases his grip on my wrists.

  Grabbing me roughly around the waist, he rolls us both onto our sides.

  My chest expands, and without so much of his weight on top of me, I can finally take a full breath.

  “You’re still fighting me, Meghan. Still trying to keep me out…”

  With everything going on between my thighs, somehow I’m still able to sense him shoving my leggings further down my legs.

  “And I’ll be damned if I let anything come between us.”

  As soon as the elastic of my waistband makes it past my knees, he’s forcing my legs wider. Just wide enough that he can thrust up, his cock spreading me open.

  I stiffen against him, my spine going ramrod straight as my walls struggle to stretch around him.

  There’s so much of him, my belly fills with this strange flipping sensation. I try to swallow it back down, but it crawls over me until I’m uncontrollably trembling.

  And just when I think he’s gone as deep inside me as he can go, he pushes in even further, making me feel as if I just might burst.

  Finally, he reaches the spot where he can go no further without truly damaging me and stops, going completely still.

  His strained breath in my ear, I realize I’m stretched so tightly around him I can feel my pulse throbbing around his thickness.

  “This…” he pants, slowly withdrawing from me only to t
hrust his length back in. “This is what makes this life worth living...”

  Slowly he works his cock in and out of me, gliding easily along my wetness.

  And the most intense, most incredible sensations begin to build inside me. Ramping up with each deep stroke.

  “I won’t let you push me out,” he grunts, picking up speed. “I won’t let you run from us.”

  Little mewling sounds begin to slip from my lips, joining with the wet sounds of our joining.

  There seems to be this one vulnerable spot inside me that he keeps hitting, so hypersensitive it steals my breath.

  Faster and faster, he pumps inside me. His hips slapping against my ass. And all the sensations growing inside of me suddenly become so strong and overwhelming I can’t handle it.

  I try to pull away only to have his arms suddenly come around me.

  “No,” he nearly roars as his arms pull me back, clutching me against his chest. “Don’t you dare fucking run.”

  “It’s too much, Gabriel!” I wail as he keeps me trapped against him as he rolls onto his back.

  “It’s not enough,” he counters, his arms wrapping over my breasts. “It will never be enough.”

  Heels digging into the bed, his arms tighten around me as he begins to slam himself inside me like he’ll die if he doesn’t.

  Trapped against him in the embrace of his arms, I become frantic to escape. All the things assaulting my body feel so good, I swear he’s killing me.

  Clawing at his arms, I shake my head back and forth as I sob, “Gabriel, please! I can’t, I can’t.”

  “You can,” he insists. “You fucking can, Meghan. Stop fucking fighting it, stop holding back.”

  But I can’t stop fighting it or holding it back. The pleasure he’s inflicting on me is so good, so fucking strong, it almost hurts. And the orgasm looming in front of me is so steep, I don’t think I can survive the fall.

  Then he kisses my cheek and says, “Trust me, baby. I’ve got you.”

  I shouldn’t, but my entire body is throbbing in agony, my pussy quivering with the need for relief.

  Releasing a hair-raising growl, he begins to piston himself inside me furiously, determined to push me over the edge, despite my refusal.

  “Come for me. Come for me, goddammit,” he demands, and there’s just so much inside me I snap.

  I go soaring over the edge, and the fall is so glorious, so fucking terrifying, I scream.

  I scream because I’m afraid. I scream because it feels so good. But most of all I scream because there’s so much built up inside of me it’s the only way to release it.

  “Yes,” Gabriel says in triumph as his hips slap hard against my ass. “That’s it, baby. I got you.”

  I fall and fall, screaming the whole way down. But instead of crashing and breaking, he’s there to catch me.

  I reach the bottom squeezed in his arms.

  With a grown, he slams his cock deep one last time, and is warmth floods me as he murmurs sweet words of devotion.

  And for once in my fucking life I feel safe.

  I feel protected.

  15

  Gabriel

  The shrill ring of my cellphone yanks me out from under the hot showerhead. I’m not entirely sure how long I’ve been standing under the heat. I’ve probably used up most of the hot water in the tank, but it’s been worth it.

  I’ve been able to silence all the thoughts that rage and tear through my mind. I need to stay in the moment right now, to be the hand of destruction that Lucifer pulled me from hell to be.

  The ringing ends as I step out of the shower and pull a towel around my waist. I can hear Meghan’s sleepy voice as she walks to the door. She’s talking to someone quietly before she opens the door and thrusts the phone toward me.

  She’s definitely not a morning person, I think as I watch her grumpily walk back to the bed and practically thrown herself down on top of it.

  “What?” I ask as I push the phone up to my ear.

  My eyes stare down at Meghan’s panty-covered ass. It looks so juicy and delicious, I’m half tempted to bite it. Bite it and leave a bruise.

  Mark this chick as mine.

  “Russians took out a bank we own. I need you down on the scene. We need to figure out what the fuck happened,” Simon snaps in my ear.

  “When?” I ask as I contemplate whether or not Meghan will kick me if I slap that ass.

  I want to do so many fun things to it. I wasn’t joking when I said I’d fuck it if she ever tries to run again. Fuck, I want to fuck it regardless of her trying to run.

  “At five-seventeen this morning. Killed an onsite guard we had in the building,” he mutters over the sound of keys tapping on a keyboard.

  “Is that the only casualty?” I ask.

  “Yes. Are you fucking leaving yet?” he snaps at me.

  “Soon, I need to get some gear. Who’s my onsite contact?” I ask as I turn away from Meghan.

  She grumbles loudly, her head buried under a pillow.

  “Detective Sommers will be leading the investigation. Unfortunately, someone called in the bombing before we could call in our version of what happened,” he says.

  “Fuck, so the news outlets will be trying to climb over each other to get the story?” I grumble.

  “Yes, so leave your wife at home. We don’t need her face plastered all over the news. I’ve called what contacts I have in the media and I’m trying to get this downplayed as much as possible. But it’s the fucking media.”

  “Fuck, I’m not exactly fond of the idea of leaving her here alone,” I say as I walk over to the dresser.

  I grab a pair of jeans and a t-shirt out of it.

  Meghan moves and I’m pretty sure she’s listening in.

  “I don’t give a shit, get the fuck over to there. I’ll text you the location now,” Simon snaps before he disconnects the phone.

  “Fucking douchebag,” I growl as I slap the phone down on the dresser.

  “What’s going on?” Meghan asks, fully awake now.

  “Someone bombed a bank we own,” I growl as I yank the t-shirt over my head.

  I’m not fucking happy with Simon right now, not when he tells me to leave Meghan home alone. But I can’t fucking argue the logic. While she needs to be attached to my hip, this isn’t the time for her face to be shown. Too many unknown variables.

  Sitting up straight, her eyebrows lift almost up to her hairline. “Did you say someone bombed a bank?”

  “Yeah,” I say while pulling my pants up.

  “You forgot your underwear,” she points out quietly.

  Looking down, I push my junk into the jeans and carefully zip up. “Nah, I don’t like wearing ‘em.”

  Shaking her head, she forces her attention away from my cock. “Someone blew up a bank… because you bombed their restaurant?”

  “Looks like it. The risk of retaliation was always going to be high no matter what we did. That restaurant was a money laundering front for them,” I say as I sit down to pull on socks and my boots.

  “Oh god,” she mumbles.

  Reaching over, I grab her ankle and pull her to my side.

  “Stop!” she pushes at me.

  “No,” I say quietly.

  “But… but all this violence…” she croaks as she looks up at me.

  “Would have been happening with or without you. Your father insulated you from the world he operated in. Lots of things were happening you never got to see.”

  “But…” she whispers, shaking her head.

  “Right or wrong, it happened, Meghan. Whether you knew it or not, shit was going down,” I say and wrap an arm around her shoulder.

  “I just don’t…” she starts but stops. “How much of what’s happening now is my fault?”

  “Don’t even try to follow that path, Meghan. Just don’t. Fucked up shit’s always going on and it’s not going to stop anytime soon. This shit’s been going on long before you came along. Long before I was around,” I say, and t
ry to stop the anger inside me that wants to reach out and murder anyone who makes her hurt like she does.

  “Is this all there ever will be? Pain and death?” she asks. “Blood and innocents dying?”

  “No,” I say with a growl. “I aim to make sure these fuckers are all six feet under.”

  “But that just means more killing.”

  “It does, but I was brought out for a purpose. I’m the dog let off the leash. It’s Lucifer’s way of showing the world that playtime is over.”

  Hugging her tight to my side for a moment, I almost start shaking with the inner turmoil of leaving her here without me.

  “I gotta go check out what’s happened, and I need you to stay here and keep out of trouble for a few hours,” I say.

  Looking up at me with a frown, she asks, “Why are you leaving me alone? I didn’t think that was something you were comfortable doing...”

  “I have to trust you sometime, Meghan. Trust that you know doing what I tell you is in your best interest. They want you back. Alexei is pissed that I took what he thinks is his property.”

  “I’m not just some piece of property, dammit!” she snarls at me before standing up from the bed. “I still have my head on my shoulders. It’s up to me to make decisions, not you, and definitely not that asshole.”

  “Decisions that could cost you and others by making the wrong choices,” I say.

  Pacing back and forth in front of me, she stops cold.

  “What do you mean?” she hisses at me, her anger palpable.

  With a small grin, I say, “Do you really think you’d be so lucky as to be the only one hurt if this goes to full-scale war? That you’re the only one affected by this?”

  “Again, what do you mean?” she snarls out.

  “Beth,” I say with a shrug.

  “What does this have to do with her?” she asks, and that righteous anger is fading away at the mention of Johnathan’s wife.

  “You met her. From what I remember, you liked her and their son Charlie, right?” I ask.

  “Are you threatening them!?” she asks, balling up her fists.

  Her posture stiffens as she stalks toward me.

  “Fuck, no. I don’t kill kids, Meghan. But Alexei sure does. Ever wonder how Johnathan and Beth met? Does she look like she’s old enough to have a boy Charlie’s age?” I ask. “Think about how old he looked, then look at those two. They’ve been married for less than a year. Beth’s only just now hitting her twenties. Charlie doesn’t look like either of them, does he?”