Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91504 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91504 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Gabriel folds over me, his front to my back. He gathers my hands in one of his and stretches my arms up over my head. His teeth nip my earlobe, and I can’t help myself. I moan.
“I love that sound.” He groans. “I’ve dreamed about it every night since your office.”
His free hand slips between us, under my dress. It reaches between my legs, impatiently yanks my panties to one side, and then his fingers are at my slick opening. “You think it’s wrong, yet you’re so wet already.” Two, maybe three, fingers plunge inside. I’m not even sure, but it makes me gasp. It’s rough, no foreplay, just like last time. My eyes roll into the back of my head, and another moan escapes my mouth when he pumps.
“Beautiful,” Gabriel grits. His fingers pull almost all the way out and then sink deeper. I don’t even catch my breath before he does it again. Then again. And again. I’m on the brink of flying over the edge when he abruptly stops.
He stands. I vaguely hear the sound of a belt opening, zipper being tugged down, and then I feel his wide, silky crown at my opening. Though he doesn’t push inside. Instead, he reaches for my hair, wraps it around his fist.
“You want it hard again?”
I want it any way he wants to give it, but hard—so hard it’s punishing—feels right. So I nod. “Harder.”
The hand wrapped in my hair abruptly yanks—so damn hard that I lift off the bed. Gabriel uses his free hand to hoist me up at the waist, prop me up on all fours on the mattress. My scalp burns from how harshly he’s still pulling my hair, but he enters me in one deep thrust, and I forget all about the pain. Or maybe the pain adds to my pleasure, heightens all of my other senses, because nothing has ever felt so good. He’s buried so deeply inside me, my neck extended back. I’m completely under his control, and my body actually relaxes, gives in to him. I’ve been a knot of tension since our encounter last week in my office, thinking I needed to tell him I’d made a mistake, that this could never happen again. But it turns out this was exactly what I needed.
Gabriel powers into me from behind. It’s rough and demanding, but I need it to hurt more. So I push back when he thrusts forward, each drive colliding with a loud smack. It’s pummeling and bruising. I’ll probably need to sit on a pillow tomorrow and will still feel battered, but I love every second of it. Each plunge is more punishing than the last, boring deeper and deeper. My body climaxes without warning. There are no thoughts in my head—no worry, no sadness, no regret—only unbridled pleasure rimmed with pain that I never want to end. But of course it does. Gabriel roars to his finish and pulls out.
I’m panting. My mind that was so eagerly blank only seconds ago immediately fills with racing thoughts.
Gabriel moves. My blurry eyes follow him around the room until he disappears behind a door. The bathroom, I assume. Then my vision comes into focus, and I see my surroundings for the first time. Things start to flash faster than my racing breaths.
A framed wedding photo.
A woman’s bathrobe hanging on the back of a closet door.
A wedding ring on the nightstand.
Polaroids taped to the mirror above the dresser.
Smiling faces.
Kissing.
A beautiful little girl.
My eyes flood with tears.
A beautiful, perfect little girl.
Who is dead.
Dead.
I stand. And then run.
Through the book-lined living room.
Down the narrow hallway.
Out the apartment door.
Somehow I manage to grab my purse and scarf on the way out, but my jacket is a lost cause.
I find a stairwell and keep going.
Down four flights of stairs.
Out onto the street.
I don’t stop running for blocks, until I reach a corner and make a sharp turn. Then I lean against a brick building, hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath. I’m not sure how long it takes. It’s a while. But eventually my breathing returns to normal. I stand and look around. People are coming and going, like it’s any other boring day of the week. No one pays attention to me. It’s New York City, after all. An out-of-breath woman appearing slightly crazed is nothing unusual, I suppose. But then I really look around. I’m at the corner where I told Gabriel I’d gone to get my phone fixed. He’d asked if it was the Verizon store. He’d grinned when I said yes.
But there’s no Verizon store here…
CHAPTER 33 Now
Hours later, I’m still wandering the streets, unable to think straight.
I can still feel his hands on me. Feel him inside me. I picture myself gasping with exertion, with raw need and pleasure, and yet… and yet when I close my eyes, I see her. His wife. And then his child. The photos. The freaking robe.