Gael's Naughty Angel: A Mafia Prince Romance

Chapter 332 - Insanity (4)

"Do you need a safe word?" Gael asked, watching her through their reflection on the window.

Still reeling from earlier, Angela didn't think. She shook her head. 'I trust you,' she wanted to say, but the words refused to leave her mouth as she readied herself for another round, knowing it would be a punishment. A punishment she was looking forward to.

He wasn't gentle, nor was he slow when he pushed his cock inside her. He'd barely given her a minute to adjust to the girth of his length as he began to move. He pounded furiously into her like she was his life source and he was dying. It was brutalizing. Every pound elicited sounds from Angela that were a cross between a sob and a moan. 

She forgot about where she was. That she was in New York, with Gael, in his place—on the 42nd floor of a sky-rise building, at the window where someone could see them. But her mind pushed everything else out; there were only the two of them and no one else. 

The restraints around her wrists keeping her bound was frustrating. It was slowly hurting the more that she tried to free herself from it. It was a combination of love and hate for the belt. Hate that she couldn't touch him and hold herself up more conveniently, and love because it only heightened the erotic desires she was experiencing while letting Gael take control.

She realized how much she liked giving him the reins. Usually, she was scared of not being in control of something. But this? This was a whole new level. And she let him take her however he wanted her. There was just something so erotic about being taken from behind. And with Gael driving, she sure would be a sated passenger.

Despite struggling to keep her hands on the window, Angela joined him in his malicious rhythm. Her legs were still shaky from the recent releases—two friggin' times not too long ago. But his strong grip held her up. His strength wrapped around her midsection as he thrust in and out of her slick core. She so badly wanted to reach behind her to touch him, but she didn't want to risk him stopping or pulling out just like earlier.

He was such an asshole for doing that. But he was her asshole.

With one arm around her waist, Gael reached for her breast, flicking her erect nipple, rolling it between his fingers before pinching it, repeating it over and over while he ravaged her neck, kissing, licking, nibbling. The scruff on his jaw tickled her skin, sending temptingly delicious sensations straight to her clit every time it scratched her. She moaned. Her body felt so hot, and she was so full of him, it drove her crazy.

"Gael… Oh, god… Gael…" She was sandwiched between the tall window and him behind her; the coldness of the glass pressed her front while the heat of him burned her back.

The sound of skin slapping filled the room. It smelled of sex and passion, making Angela forget her worries if someone could see them. At that moment, she didn't care. 

"This is what you want, right, Angel? You want to be thoroughly fucked until you pass out, hm?" He groaned, ramming in deeper and harsher, his thrusts turning merciless.

All she could do was pant, responding with incomprehensible moans to agree with him, praise him like he was a god. A sex god.

Then Gael moved with revenge.

Animalistic. Raw. Pure unrestrained sex.

Well, except for Angela's wrists.

"How dare you tell me you don't remember, huh?" Thrust.

"Ah!" The tip of his shaft slammed against the deepest part of her. It didn't hurt; it was a combination of pain and pleasure. He didn't need an answer to his question. He was proving a point and taking what was his this whole time.

"This is what you get for being a naughty little minx." Thrust.

"And you're going to take..." Thrust.

"Every." Thrust. "Fucking." Thrust. "Last." Thrust. "One." Thrust.

"Like a good girl." Harsher thrusts triggered another wave of pleasure on her bundle of nerves.

"Ahhh!!! Please… Baby… Please…" Too much. Too good. She was delirious and overwhelmed, and she wanted more. So close. Oh, so close.

"Only me, Angel." He reached to tease her clit as he growled, "You're fucking mine!"

And that was the last thing she needed to send her spiraling down from the highest cliff she climbed tonight. She screamed his name over and over in a hoarse voice with overwhelming pleasure. Her orgasm was brutal, intense—unapologetic, and she fell into a deep, unknown, and bottomless pit that her legs gave up, and her arms fell down from the window.

But Gael wasn't finished yet.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."

He held her tightly and continued his savage onslaught, giving her a few more angry thrusts before he roared against her shoulder, spurting his warm seed into her still clenching walls, filling her up. His body turned rigid, and his embrace around her tightened. He didn't want to let go of her.

That was viciously mind-blowing.

He pulled out of her and caught her as her limbs gave out. "I got you…" he whispered to her ear.

Carefully removing the bind on her wrists, he noticed her legs and hands were trembling. He tossed the belt and the shirt on the floor without care, immediately covering the reddish marks on her wrists. He kissed each of them a few times before he completely removed the rest of his bottom clothes including her shoes, kicking them to the side. She snuggled against his chest and wrapped her arms around his neck. Gael lifted her up, one arm behind her knees while the other supported her back and then carried her towards the bed.

Angela had passed out. He wanted to draw her a bath, but she looked so spent, he thought he'd give her some minutes. Besides, he didn't want to wash his scent off her.

Placing her in the middle of the bed, she refused to let go of him. He gingerly settled beside her, covering them with the blanket as he pulled her against his chest. He nuzzled her neck. She smelled so damn good, he wanted to keep her in a bottle.

Several minutes later, a soft moan escaped her lips like she was trying to say something but was too exhausted. He softly chuckled, stroking her cheek with his knuckles ever so tenderly, admiring the flush on her face.

"What are you laughing at?" Angela managed to say through half-lidded eyes, her voice still hoarse from all the screaming she did while he took her against the window.

"You look beautiful…" He kissed her forehead and her brows knitted together as if she didn't believe his words. "You're beautiful when you're well fucked."

Her eyes opened, and she glared at him. "I'm still mad at you."

Too adorable. You know when someone tries to look angry but ends up still looking cute? That was her at the moment. So Gael couldn't help but curl his lips into a grin as he teased her. "I heard angry sex is thrilling. You wanna try? I could go for another round."

The crease between her brows deepened further, and she smacked his chest. "You're insane. My legs are still shaking. I don't think I can walk, much less stand."

"Oh, I can take you while you're on your back, babe. I can do all the work."

"But you're not mad anymore." Then a small smile danced on her lips. "Though I can help you with that… I'll just tell you that I—Aw!!!" She cried when he pinched her nipple. 

"Don't try me, Angel. I don't wanna hear it. Unless you can take another round? I believe I have more belts in the closet to tie all of your limbs to the bed."

Angela pushed him at the chest, wanting to keep her distance from him. She was still weak, and while the image of what he just painted was both scary and tempting, she didn't want to test him now, or she'd have to crawl for days—if she could even get out of bed afterward.

"Come here." Gael smiled and pulled her back towards him and pressed a kiss on the tip of her nose, then looked her in the eye. "I should've made it clear to that woman that I'm not interested. Stop being mad. If they're not family, other women don't matter to me. Only you do. There could be a thousand of them running towards me, but I'll only…always…run to you."

She felt every word deep in her heart, and her lips trembled. Not wanting him to see the emotions on her, she hid her face against his chest and wrapped her arms around his torso.

The contrast of how he started earlier—rough, hard, and maddening—was different from how he ended it. Gael was so gentle as he soothed her, stroking her hair, brushing his knuckles on her skin when he held her. He was so warm; she didn't want this to end.

God, Angela was falling so fast. Every damn second. And it looked like there was no way out. More importantly, would he be there to catch her?