by Sweet, Izzy
Dragging in a shuddering breath, I’m afraid something inside of me is breaking, a fundamental part I need to survive, to exist as I have.
But as I say the words, “I’ll stand by you,” out loud with tears spilling down my cheeks, I suddenly feel free.
Free of the chains that have been holding me back.
Gabriel pulls slowly away from me, and I catch a flicker of hope in his eyes, but it quickly fades away.
Something inside me desperately needs to see that flicker again.
So I find myself saying, “I’m with you, Gabriel. I choose you. I choose us.”
I didn’t know joy could be found inside darkness, but that’s the only way I can explain the emotions that play over his face.
Bone-deep, endless joy.
He looks like I’ve just handed him the sky.
Then a hair-raising, animalistic sounds rumbles out of his throat just before his mouth slams into mine.
Any other time, I might not be prepared for the force of the kiss he lays on me.
But I’m ready this time.
Grabbing at him, I meet him push for push. Determined to not let this thing between us break me.
Determined to stand by my choice.
Our lips, tongues, and teeth clash and tangle together in a frantic need that makes time fade away.
There is only him, me, and the overwhelming desire to take him deep inside my body.
To make my promise complete.
As if he’s afraid I might change my mind, his hands grab at my shirt, ripping and tearing until the fabric falls away in shreds. I try to do the same to his shirt, but I don’t quite have the strength.
When I whimper into his mouth, he reaches down and bats my hands away.
Grabbing where I grabbed, he yanks his hands apart, ripping his black t-shirt open for me.
Greedy for the feel of his skin, I slap my palms against his bare chest. I explore, rubbing my hands over the hard planes of his sculpted pecs.
But it’s not enough. I have this visceral need to dig into his flesh. To leave my mark.
Clawing at him, I scrape my nails down to his waist.
With a smothered growl, he thrusts his hips hard into me, grinding his trapped erection into my sex.
Hoping for another thrust, I drag my nails back up, raking them across his stiff nipples.
His entire body jolts and a purr of pleasure rolls down my throat. Then he’s grabbing up my hands and yanking them behind my back, forcing me to thrust out my chest.
He rips his lips away from mine, and before I can gasp out a protest, he’s nipping his way down my neck.
I want to beg him to kiss me again, but he bites at the hollow of my throat and a flash of delicious weakness courses through me, forcing me into silence.
Lower, his mouth travels.
Biting at my collarbones and nipping a path down to my breasts.
Sucking in a breath and holding it, I half-expect him to bite at my nipples, given what I did to his.
But his hot mouth completely covers me and he groans with pleasure as he pulls back a gentle suckle.
Warmth floods through my veins, burning like molten lava, and I begin to melt beneath his mouth.
Back and forth, between both breasts, he hungrily and frantically suckles on me, until I’m squirming against the counter and my breasts feel heavy.
Just as I begin to relax, tipping my head back and letting him have his way with me, his teeth clamp down on my nipple.
Pinching down on the tender flesh.
I jerk, my head snapping up.
With a grin, he soothes the pain away with his tongue, swirling it against me.
I watch him with wary eyes as he moves to the other breast, prepared for the pinch. But all he does is suckle until I start to relax again.
As soon as my head tips back and a low moan flows out of my throat, his teeth are clamping down.
“Gabriel,” I gasp, finally breaking the silence between us as the sting settles in.
“You taste so fucking good,” he groans, “I just want to eat you up.”
His tongue lashes at me as if he’s in a hurry to soothe the pain away.
“I want to leave my mark all over your body.”
Then he’s kissing, nipping, sucking, and biting his way down my stomach. My muscles tighten against the onslaught of his mouth and I don’t even realize he’s released my hands until he’s unbuckling my holster and shoving down my pants.
My pants, panties, and shoes hit the floor and his head dips lower. Teeth scraping across my mons.
“Don’t you dare,” I warn and feel his smirk.
Shoving my thighs apart, I tense up in fear and excitement as his warm breath drops lower, hitting my wetness.
If he bites me there, so help me—
That thought inside my head is cut off as he suddenly straightens, towering over me again.
Before I have a chance to react to the sudden change, he’s grabbing me by the back of the head and pulling me in for another brutal kiss.
I become so lost in the taste of his mouth, I throw my arms around his neck and cling to him.
Reaching between us, he undoes his own holster and pants one-handed.
Then his fingers are wrapping around my hip and jerking my ass to the edge of the counter. There’s no warning, no time to brace myself, as he begins to push his thick, velvety length into me.
My tongue and lips begin to falter as my walls stretch around him.
So big… will he ever stop feeling so big?
“That’s it,” he encourages me between pulls of his mouth. “Don’t fight me, Meghan. Let me in.”
I spread my thighs wider to accept him and even wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer.
He groans with primal satisfaction as he slides all the way in.
Once he’s completely inside me, he stops and tugs on the back of my scalp.
“Who do you belong to?” he asks, his voice deep and guttural.
His grip on my hair forcing my neck to arch almost painfully, I stare up into the blazing depths of his blue eyes and say without hesitation, “You.”
He makes a sound deep in the depths of his throat and pulls his hips back.
I start to whimper at the loss of him, then he suddenly slams back in.
“Say it again,” he demands. “Who do you belong to?”
“You. I belong to you. I’m yours, Gabriel,” I moan as he grinds his hips against mine.
“That’s right… that’s fucking right,” he grunts as he begins to pump in and out.
But even with me seated on the counter, he’s so tall he has to angle himself downward.
Growling with frustration, he suddenly picks me up, his fingers digging into flesh of my ass.
Then he slams me up against the front of the refrigerator.
“You’re mine… fucking mine…” he grunts as he slams his hips into me so hard I begin to bounce. “And I’m never fucking letting you go.”
I’ve given myself over to him so completely that it’s only seconds before the beginning of my release is upon me.
Gathering force in the center of my core like a coming storm.
Each little sound that falls from my mouth seems to encourage him to fuck me harder and faster.
So hard, I feel his balls slapping against my ass and the door of refrigerator bending against my spine.
I writhe, my sweat slick skin sliding against his.
And then the force inside me is unleashed.
White lightning flashes in front of my eyes, and I swear I hear the roar of thunder in my ears.
But then I realize that’s Gabriel roaring.
My pussy squeezes around him, desperately pulling him deeper as he declares, “Even if you tried to run from me, even if you chose not to stand beside me…”
Grabbing me by the chin, he forces me to stare into his eyes as I’m trapped, lost and powerless, inside my throes.
“I wouldn’t let you go.”
<
br /> His words chill me even as his cock pumps me full of warmth.
And I start regret my decision.
But then, as he reaches the last seconds of his release, that angry mask of his slips off face.
And so much dark, twisted love stares back at me, I’m lost.
Utterly fucking lost.
“I fucking love you, Meghan,” he declares.
And god help me…
I think I love him in return.
17
Gabriel
It seems like I’m the one always getting out of bed first. Meghan lays behind me, sprawled out on the bed in just a pair of tiny panties. I swear she sleeps on her stomach like that on purpose. It’s like she’s begging me to slap that tight juicy ass of hers.
Times like these in the still moments before the death that’s to come, I feel almost holy. I feel almost righteous. Maybe sinfully righteous.
Murder and mayhem isn’t exactly the heavenly way. But I’ve never questioned my destiny. Never questioned the decisions that lead to the end of my rope. I don’t plan on starting it now. Meghan agreeing to be by my side has filled that final piece I’ve been needing. Not that I knew I needed it.
When I got out of prison, I was dead inside. Rage was there in my body, but it wasn’t like it is now. Now I’ve got a purpose to keep moving, to do something proactive with my life.
I have someone I have to protect now. Someone I love and need to keep safe.
Words aren’t always trustworthy. Meghan said she was mine, but I needed to see it in her eyes. To see that she truly meant it and felt the full bearing of those words. Her eyes told the truth, they showed the commitment we found with each other. Words after that were pointless. We’re in this together now, good or bad, together.
The last three days since we’ve formed our bond have been at times quick, and at other times too slow. We’ve alternated between acting like we’re on our honeymoon, to sitting on the couch speculating about what the fuck’s been happening in the outside world.
The tension at times has been palpable. Both of us want to be out there getting this fucking war over with. We want the same thing, even if I’m more a little more bloodthirsty compared to her.
I truly believe she thinks this can be ended if we just all back down. I know for certain that won’t appease either side. The Russians have been taking over too much land and vice around the cities. They’re thirsty for territory and they hate us for kicking their asses at every turn.
Daily reports from Simon are vague at best. Nothing’s happening out there. The Russians and Irish are bunkering in and keeping us guessing at their plans. It’s a wait and see for the time being.
A bzzt sound rattles my nightstand as I stare out the back window of the bedroom. It looks out into a large wooded area, and I make sure I don’t have any nasty surprises coming toward me before I turn back to the nightstand. The sunlight that guides me back to the phone tells me we’ve slept half the morning away.
“Who’s that?” Meghan asks, her face buried in a pillow.
“No clue,” I say before picking up the phone.
Letting out a growl, I press the connect button. “Can’t fucking go twenty-four hours without you fucking bothering me, Simon.”
“Listen here, you fucking cretin…” he snaps out at me before letting out a slow breath.
“Aw, that’s all you got to say?” I ask with a grin.
“Get to highway forty heading east out of town towards Bethlehem. We’ve got a hit on the LPR for both cars,” Simon says.
Instantly switching from fucking-off mode, my brain rattles a question out, “What’s the coverage of the vehicle?”
“One unmarked police vehicle with the chief of police in his personal vehicle are in a loose tailing formation. They’ll be joined soon by Detective Somers in another unmarked. Once we have enough men in the area, we’ll pull them over.”
“Any chance we have Alexei in the vehicle?” I ask as I motion for Meghan to get up.
“Yes, confirmed from a quick traffic light camera shot before they got on the highway. Also, there is a good chance Meghan’s father is in the vehicle, but we can’t be sure.”
Grabbing my jeans and t-shirt off the floor, I say, “We’ll be out the door in two minutes.”
Dropping the phone to the bed, I quickly begin to pull my clothes on. “Get ready, baby. They got a location on Alexei.”
“Oh god, it’s starting up again, isn’t it?” Meghan asks as she stands up from the bed.
“No,” I say quietly to her. “It’s getting ready to end. I’m through fucking around with these guys.”
I watch as Meghan quickly yanks on a t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Since I talked her into using a hip holster for her gun when we go out in public she’s taken to wearing some of the tightest jeans I’ve seen on a woman.
Tight clothing is good on Meghan, very good.
Both of us race through the house, grabbing our gear from the kitchen as we go. I strap on my vest before I hop into the black Lexus with tinted windows, and we squeal out of the garage.
* * *
Connecting to Simon through the car’s phone system, I ask, “What’s the distance between Alexei and me?”
“Five miles, no traffic in-between,” Simon responds.
“Who’s all in this parade?” I ask.
“We’ve got Johnathan and Andrew a mile ahead of you. James is enroute, but at the present he’s fifteen miles out from the current target,” Simon says.
“What about Jude?” I ask.
“He’s on a different task. We’ve still got Alexei’s father to deal with,” he says.
“So, he’s guarding the guy’s incapacitated body?” I ask.
“Yes, even though we’re positive that the location is secure, we’re not taking any chances.”
“That’s so fucked,” Meghan mumbles as she looks over at me.
Shrugging my shoulders, I say, “It’s a good bargaining chip for us. We’ve not used it yet, and from what Simon says about the gas line explosion they caused, Alexei more than likely thinks that he was killed.”
“Agreed.” Lucifer comes on the line. “Although we’ll be letting that little secret out soon enough. I think if we’re careful and use it at the right moment, we’ll cause quite the shitstorm back in Russia.”
“Bringing the rest of the crew on comms, one moment,” Simon says.
While we’re waiting, I reach over to Meghan’s leg and squeeze her thigh. Taking my eyes off the road for a brief look, I see that her body is tight and tense. Her hands keep squeezing themselves. She’s as wound up as can be.
“Calm, Meghan. Take deep breaths,” I say as I squeeze her thigh again.
This time, though, my hand slides up close to the parting of her legs.
Looking down at my hand and then up to my eyes, she gives me a small laugh.
Then she whispers, “You’re thinking about that even now?”
“Yep.” I smirk at her before turning my eyes back to the road.
It’s a partial lie though. Sex is always going to be on my mind when I have her anywhere near me, but right now I’m thinking more about what I’m going to do when I get my hands around Alexei’s throat.
“On another note, I’ve spoken with the Italians. They’ve adamantly denied any and all actions against the Irish when the bombing happened. They’ve also requested a sit down with us to discuss the matter,” Simon says through the speakers,
Meghan freezes up beside me.
Turning my attention to her again, I see anger flash through her eyes.
Well shit. I was planning on talking to her about this, but hadn’t had the time or information to go further than my suspicions of what might have happened.
“What… what…” Meghan growls out.
“They weren’t in a position to do what they were accused of,” Simon says quickly, before he curses loudly. “Shit! The damn undercover officer is pulling the lead car over. Get moving now!”
&n
bsp; “We’re about thirty seconds from them,” Andrew says through the speakers.
“All parties switch to ear comms,” Simon says, and the car suddenly falls silent.
Pushing the earbud deeper into my ear, I look over to Meghan as she does the same. Her expression is a mixture of shock and anger.
Fucking hell.
I’m going to fucking wrap my hands around Simon’s fucking neck and slam him into a fucking brick wall the next time I see his stupid fucking ass. I’ll have to shove my fucking boot so far up his ass, he can fucking feel it coming out of his big fucking ears.
“Meghan,” I say quietly, trying to get her attention.
Ignoring me, she starts fussing around with her gun holster.
Her hands are shaking horribly.
“Focus!” I shout at her as I watch her try to get her vest even tighter around her chest.
Her eyes snap over to me and for an instant I swear she would slide a knife right through my neck. She’s got a fire burning deeply in her eyes.
“Focus,” I say gently this time. “Focus on what’s going to happen now. Don’t think of anything past the next ten minutes.”
“Tell me what Simon’s talking about,” Meghan says, and from the tenseness in her voice, I know she won’t be dropping this.
“We were talking about the bombing and how it didn’t make sense to us… Especially since at the time of the bombing the Italians were weak on all fronts. They were dealing with a ton of shit out in Ohio as it was. None of us think it was them, so we’re looking into it,” I explain.
“But my father said it was them. Said it was a message from them,” she states to me.
I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t know, Meghan. I don’t think he’s right. Something else was going on.”
“What?” she asks, incredulous.
“Look, we’ll talk about this as soon as we can,” I say, then point up ahead to the highway.
The highway’s not too busy right now so we have the perfect view to see a swarm of cars pulled over on the side of the road. A police officer is facing the wrong way though, and he’s walking toward Andrew and Johnathan’s car with his hand on his pistol.
What the fuck?
“Simon, we have an issue,” Andrew says over the radio.