by Black, Lena
“Hunt!” I cry, terrified by his outburst and lack of control. “Calm down before you have a stroke. Please, you’re scaring me,” I plead.
He halts in his tracks and stares contritely into my wide, terrified eyes.
“I’m sorry, angel, but I won’t allow anyone to fucking put their hands on you, especially with intent to harm and vandalize you…I want to know exactly what happened.”
“I can’t. I can’t relive it, not now.”
He seems torn, the overwhelming need for knowledge written across his lovely face, but he doesn’t say anything. “I’ll tell you when I’m ready.”
His eyes widen, and his mouth goes slack. “Does this mean you’ll have me?”
“Hunt, I…” He’s on me in a few elongated steps, snatching me into him and taking my mouth with a fury.
Oh, that feels good. He smells so tasty, of fresh laundry, soap, and himself…No, I won’t do this!
I place my hands on his chest, shoving him away. “What are you doing?”
“Loving you. Let me love you, angel.”
He moves in for a kiss.
“No.” I place my hand over his mouth. “This doesn’t change anything.”
He removes my hand, holding it in his, and replies softly, “No, you’re right. It changes everything.”
“No. I won’t put you in danger. I promised to protect you.”
He shoots me a curious gaze. “Who did you promise?”
“I promised myself, you, the broken boy inside of you. I promised him I wouldn’t let anything happen to him, that I would protect him no matter what. I refuse to break that vow to him. Too many have done it before…And, now, after all these months of sacrifice, you’ve put yourself at risk of his wrath.”
“Gabrielle, I can protect myself.”
“Really? Were you able to protect yourself from Olivia, your uncle, yourself? No, you couldn’t, so I’ve taken the liberty of doing it myself.”
He pinches my chin between his fingers, keeping me in place with his other arm about my back. “I’m fine. I don’t care what threats he put on my life. You were selfish for not telling me, for leaving me.”
“Selfish?” I ask, stunned. “Do you think I wanted to leave you? It fucking killed me, Hunt. I died when I left you.”
“It wasn’t up to you to make that kind of decision without me, without telling the truth. That was selfish of you.”
“Are we really doing this?” I manage to wriggle out of his grasp and take a step back.
“No, you’re right. I’ve come to take you home.”
“I don’t want to go back to my apartment. I’m trying to get away from everyone…Things have been complicated lately.”
“Yes, I heard about your father’s passing and the kiss at the funeral. I’m sorry, baby…However, I wasn’t referring to your apartment. That isn’t your home, I am, Artemis is. I’ve been miserable without you. I want you to come home, Elle.”
His words wrench my heart, breaking me down.
“Damian, I told you this doesn’t change anything,” I state, taking another step back.
“Yes, it does.”
He takes a large step toward me.
“No, it doesn’t.”
I take another back.
“Yes, it does,” he says with an insistent tone and snatches my hand, towing me into him.
“Damn it, Damian. No.”
“Damn it, Gabrielle. Yes…Stop being such a stubborn ass.”
“Me?” I huff out.
“Yes you. Stop,” he orders. “I can take care of Dante. I want you back, Elle. And, you want me. Admit it.”
I don’t say anything.
“One…” he warns.
I try to resist it, but the words spew out of me like verbal vomit. “Yes, of course I want you. I never stopped wanting you.”
That’s all he needs. He mashes his lips onto mine and kisses me with a ferocity that pilfers my breath and makes my head reel. His lips graze mine, his tongue probes, his hands roam.
Oh god, I forgot how good it could be. I forgot how good he feels against me.
I’m lost. I’m lost in him, and I never want to find my way out. He fists his hands into my hair, yanking my face away, gazing at me lovingly, passionately.
“Tell me what I want to hear. Tell me the three little words I’ve missed so much.”
I can’t fight him anymore. I can’t fight the intense feelings I possess for him. What I’ve come to realize in my time away from Hunt, I need him, to be loved by him, possessed by him. There’s only him.
I take a deep breath. “I love you, Damian.”
“I love you, Gabrielle. My Gabrielle,” he whispers before crashing his lips back on mine. They’re rough, taking me, ravaging me, devouring me.
When we pull away, we’re panting, chests heaving, bodies trembling.
“Don’t ever leave me again,” he murmurs breathlessly. “Never.”
“I won’t,” I whimper out, “I promise.”
“You promised me last time and look what happened.”
“Well, not exactly…I promised that your past would never be the cause.”
He shoots me a glaring look of disapproval.
“Gabrielle, you promised never to leave me, period…I have half a mind to take you down to the courthouse and marry you now. Then, it wouldn’t be as easy to just leave me behind.”
“Damian, I love you, but I won’t get married just to prove myself,” I state, placing my hand over his heart. “You’ll just have to trust me.”
“I do,” he says, but there is apprehension in his voice. I can’t be offended by it, because I know I caused the mistrust by leaving.
“Good.” I pat his chest gently. “Then, no more talk of marriage.”
“As long as you realize you are mine, forever. Don’t forget that,” he declares, coming back at me. He claims my mouth, my neck, my collarbone. I whimper and moan with every masterful stroke of his lips.
“Oh god, angel, when you uttered my name, it was the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard. Then, I laid sight on you, standing there in all your unashamed, exposed beauty, biting nervously at your bottom lip. I couldn’t fucking breathe. I wanted to take you, fuck you as you’ve never been fucked before, and then punish you for what you put me through.”
“Wanted to…?” I ask breathlessly.
“Want to.” He corrects himself.
“Then take me,” I beg. “I’ve missed you. I need you,” I moan out from our arousing oral caress. He pulls away, staring deep into my eyes.
“I’ve missed you, too, and I don’t intend on ever doing it again. Oh, Gabrielle, I’m going to throw you down and fuck you until you faint, but not now.”
“Why not?”
“I want you in my bed. I want to take you home and stay wrapped up in you the rest of the weekend. If I start fucking you now, I wouldn’t be able to stop.”
“Technically, this is your bed.”
“Gabrielle, please,” he says, setting his hand over my cheek. “We still need to talk before I can take you.”
“Yes, we do,” I sigh. “I’ll get my things. I’m ready to go home.”
“Which is?”
“Wherever you are,” I reply, softly smiling up at his glowing face.
“That’s my girl.”
Chapter Four
Hunt Sweet Hunt
We make it back home by seven thirty, just as the sun fades beyond the horizon and the city lights gradually flicker to life. Hunt punches a few buttons on the touchscreen near the elevator and the recessed lighting comes on, bathing the large main room in soft glow. I feel a sense of uneasiness wash over me as I remember that night, Dante’s furious icy eyes, his strong hands about my neck, my body, his threatening words, his arousal pressing against my thighs. Even though I’m wearing jeans and a sweater, a cold chill seizes me.
I glance around; unnerved by the place I once considered my safe haven, my escape from the real world.
Hunt must notice
my uneasiness because he says, “I’ve upped the security, changed codes, and added 24-7 surveillance around the entire building. You’re safe here.”
“It doesn’t change what happened.” I shrug.
“Would you like to leave?” He gestures toward the elevator. “We could go to a hotel.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head, “I refuse to let it get to me. I’ll be okay.”
“Are you sure?” he asks with a furrowed brow and a concerned, searching look.
“Yes,” I assure him with a nod of the head.
“If you don’t want to live here anymore, I can find us somewhere new to call home. I just want to be sure you’re comfortable.”
“No, please,” I blurt, holding up my hand in a halting manner, “I love this place.”
“Ok,” He takes my hand in his, “but if you can’t be here anymore, I want you to let me know. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I nod my head, “if I can’t take it, I’ll tell you.”
“Good…Would you like a glass of wine? I still have a few bottles of your private reserve.” His soothing, rich voice helps ease my nerves.
“Yes, thank you,” I reply, walking over to the huge C-shaped cream couch and settle in while Hunt heads into the kitchen.
I look around the two-story high, main living area, which is still breathtaking, masculine, cozy, and inviting. The walls, a dark shade of gray, are adorned with Hunt’s superb black and white photos of San Francisco. There’s such depth and beauty in them, showing not just the beauty of the images, but the artist’s soul, Hunt’s soul. They’re extraordinary.
I admire the black crown molding framing the massive white ceiling. The large cream rug that embellished the polished, dark cherry wood floors has been replaced with a deep, rich blue.
Hunt comes back out sans jacket and tie, with a bottle of wine, two glasses, and a small tray of cheese and crackers. He sets the food down on the couch and masterfully pours the Pinot, handing me a glass. He sinks onto the couch beside me and crosses his leg over his ankle, placing an arm about my shoulders. He holds up his glass, and I clink mine against it.
“To new beginnings and…possibilities,” he toasts, taking the glass to his sumptuous lips. I sip on mine, moaning. “I’ve missed that. The sounds you make when you taste something you like.”
“I love the taste of you,” I retort with a flirtatious smirk.
“Yes, I remember how verbal you could be.” He takes a sip of wine, smiling to himself as he reminisces about our erotic adventures.
“Thinking dirty thoughts, Mr. Hunt?” I smirk up at him.
He comes out of his sexual reveries, the smile draining from his face.
“I really want to do this, but let’s talk first.”
Now, my smirk disappears.
He picks up the tray with fancy cheeses and crackers, and I take a piece of each, gobbling it down happily. He picks up the portable touchscreen pad, presses a few buttons, and sets it back down beside him. Suddenly, the sweet, sullen serenade of violins floods the room, immersing us in its lulling waters. The fire erupts in the fireplace, swirling in a mesmerizing, glowing dance. I watch the fire, entranced by its raw, primal beauty.
Hunt breaks the trance, cutting through it with his deep, husky voice, knelt upon one knee as he removes my gray chucks. “Chase said there might be some things you need to tell me.”
“Where do I start?” I shrug, tucking my feet under my butt.
“What happened at the funeral that caused you to panic, besides Chase kissing you?”
“It’s my dad, or to be accurate, the man who raised me.”
“Excuse me?” He glances up at me from curious emerald eyes.
I sigh. “Marshall wasn’t my biological father…Caleb is.”
“Your driver, Caleb, is your father?” He doesn’t even try to hide his shock.
“Yeah,” I reply, going in for another cracker and tossing it in my mouth. “Twisted, right?”
“Did your mom cheat on Marshall?”
I sigh. “I didn’t get the details. I ran away, and I haven’t talked to my mom since, but I don’t think she cheated.”
He rises, pulling his phone out of his back pocket.
“That reminds me. I’m going to text your mother and let her know you’re alright.” He punches in a quick message, settling onto the couch next to me, and tosses the phone onto the cushion beside him. “How do you feel about it? Your father I mean.”
“Which one?” I ask dryly.
He cocks a brow at me. “I’m referring to the man who raised and loved you.”
“Again…which one?”
“Gabrielle,” he reprimands.
Crazy enough, I actually missed his dominating nature.
“I’m fucking furious. They betrayed my trust. I’ve spent my whole life thinking one thing only to find out I was wrong. I haven’t even been able to grieve his passing properly. I haven’t been able to cry or process what this means. I shut down…One second my father is gone, and the next he isn’t. Oh, no, he’s alive and well, chauffeuring my mother around. It’s just too fucking much.”
“When you’re ready to properly grieve,” he says, cuddling me into my nook, “I’m here.”
“Thanks.” I sigh, tilting my head onto his wide carved shoulder.
“What happened with the kiss?” he asks with his penetrating green eyes boring into my wary blue.
“Do you really want to know?” I ask, turning my face away from him and staring down at my lap, emotionally and physically exhausted from the day’s events.
“Yes, Gabrielle.” He pinches my chin between his strong fingers and shifts my face to look him in the eyes. “I wouldn’t ask a question to which I don’t want to know the answer. Why would you kiss him back?”
“I was confused,” I confess. “I missed you. I missed my dad. I was angry and depressed. I couldn’t help myself. Besides, we weren’t together so, technically, I didn’t cheat on you.”
“You’re right. I’m not mad. I understand. So long as you understand, it’s not to happen again. Really, Elle, you need to stop kissing everyone,” he teases.
“Ha! More like everyone needs to stop kissing me.” Suddenly, an awful, vomit-inducing thought pops into my head, and I have to ask, “Did you…hook up with anyone?”
“Hook up?” he asks, feigning ignorance.
“Did you screw anyone else?” I ask, annoyed he doesn’t give me an answer he knows I desperately need to hear.
“I know what you meant, but I would never call it hooking up.” I shoot him a peering look of mock irritation then smirk. “No, I didn’t hook up with anyone.”
I feel relief rush over me, and I ease into my nook, tossing my legs over his thighs.
“Good,” I reply with a satisfied grin.
“I’m glad you’re pleased,” He throws me a narrowed side-glance and a cocked brow. “And, a little offended you would need to ask.”
“Honestly, I don’t know why I did.”
“You asked because you were making sure I wasn’t naughty like you.” He sweeps his finger down my nose.
“Are you going to punish me?” I ask, unable to hide the anxious excitement in my voice.
“Possibly,” he answers with a nod.
“Great. So you’re going to taunt me with possible punishment.”
“You know me too well.” He smirks devilishly. “Besides, it isn’t fitting to call it punishment when you receive such pleasure out of it. I may have to find new ways to discipline you.”
“What might they be?” I inquire, a little too overly eager.
“What would be the fun in telling you?” he replies with a cocky smirk.
“This is a part of the punishment, isn’t it?”
“Perhaps,” he retorts nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders and going in for another sip of wine.
I decide to drop it and change the subject. I’m curious about what info Chase may have divulged, so I go with that. “What did Chase tell you exa
ctly?”
“He told me about the kiss, Dante’s threat, and hinted toward other issues.” He gets this look of sudden recollection. “Ah, yes. He also mentioned my ex-sub.”
“Brooke?” I squeak.
“Yes. He called her looking for you…Did you tell him about me? Be honest.”
“Why would you think I did?”
“Answer me, Gabrielle, now,” he warns.
“Yes, I did. I told him I was your sub.”
“What else did you tell him?”
Oh, here we go. The dreaded interrogation. Why did I bring this up? Dummy.
“Not much. Only that I was your submissive, though I use that loosely, and how I felt about it.”
“Why would Chase call Brooke?” he inquires in that calm yet intimidating manner.
I squirm.
“We’ve been spending a lot of time together,” I respond truthfully, knowing he won’t like my answer. “He probably thought I ran to her place to hide out.”
“Have you?” He sounds displeased.
“Yes, she’s been amazing. She’s really helped me through our breakup.”
“Did you two talk about me?” he asks, and I can almost hear the fear in his tone.
“Yes.”
“What about me?” he asks impassively, but I know he’s dying to know.
Really? We have to do this now?
“About lots of things,” I answer, slightly annoyed.
He replies in a gentle reprimanding manner, “Gabrielle, please stop being vague.”
“We talked about our lifestyle, your relationship with her, etc.”
“Would you like to elucidate?” He turns toward me slightly.
“She taught me about being a sub.”
“Really?” He perks up, eyebrows rising with curious fascination.
“Yes,” I smirk crookedly at him, “Really.”
“Oh, come now. You must tell me what she said.”
“I’d rather show you…Actions speaking louder than words and all.”
“I look forward to it,” he responds with a huge shit-face grin, but it fades and his brows crease. “How do you feel about being my sub?”
“I loved it,” I assure him, taking his hand in mine and gently caressing the knuckles. “You know I did.”