Chapter 3
The pack thrives under the gaze of those he watches.
Cheryl
The underground parking area was dark and dank, but we didn’t stop there. Gabriel continued to a lower level with its own security. The wall slid back, revealing a private bunker with enough room for several cars and a private elevator.
Who the hell was Gabriel, other than my savior and the best lay of my life? He opened my door, a gun in one hand, as he grabbed my luggage with the other. This felt serious. Had my father gotten into some kind of trouble, and was I supposed to be insurance?
Once in the elevator, Gabriel put down my two hastily packed bags and pressed me against the wall. All coherentthought fled as his tongue pried my mouth open. He nipped and sucked, turning me into a wanton mess in seconds.
He nudged his knee between my legs, and I pressed into his muscular thigh, loving the friction on my sore clit. The elevator stopped and opened, but Gabriel hit a button to keep it open. He lifted my hands over my head, holding them in one of his.
He leaned down and bit my nipple through my shirt and bra. I squealed at the intense, gentle sting, which drove me crazy. I pushed harder against his leg, seeking relief. Then a naughty thought struck me. “Let go of my hands, Daddy, and let me suck your thick cock.”
A mischievous grin appeared as he released my hands and stepped back. I dropped to my knees and unzipped his pants. “Oh, Daddy, what a big cock you have.”
Gabriel laughed and, playing along, answered, “Better to please you with, my dear.”
I giggled as I took him in my mouth, feeling the velvety smooth head. He was perfect. I moaned in appreciation, feeling his cock jump in my throat with the vibration. I hummed, changing the frequency, and his cock danced.
Changing tactics, I pressed my tongue against the base, applying pressure as I slid my mouth up and down his shaft. Gabriel moaned. That’s right, big tough guy. I had all the power now, and I was heady with it. Luckily, Gabriel’s cock was long enough for me to double fist and still have a few inches in my mouth.
I twisted and reversed my grip several times, driving Gabriel crazy. Two could play that game, Mr. Dom. Suddenly, he pulled back and picked me up as if I weighed nothing. He carried me caveman-style to his bed, where he dropped me. Then, pushing up my skirt, Gabriel ripped my G-string in two and plunged into me.
I was so turned on and ready for him that no adjusting to his girth was required, and he took me hard and fast. I could only hang on and let him ride me at his pace. When he pulled out and covered me in his seed, I came with him, my essence gushing all over my inner thighs and onto the quilt below.
Gabriel grinned. “I see it was good for you too, little brat. Stay here, I’ll clean you up.” He disappeared into what I presumed was the bathroom and returned a moment later with a warm, wet cloth that he used to tease me as he cleaned me. Bastard, he was planning on getting me all worked up again.
“Don’t pout, naughty one. We have things to discuss.”
“Fine, but I would listen better if you let me have one more orgasm, please.”
He leaned over and kissed my nose. “Later, naughty girl, have some patience.” That I could do. I happily sat up and adjusted my skirt, leaving my ruined undies on the floor. I finally took the chance to look around the hideaway I would be occupying for the next week.
There was nothing elaborate about it, but Gabriel’s furnishings showed his taste for high-end, sturdy work. His choice of quality over showiness was reflected in his décor.
I followed him back to the entrance and noticed our elevator was still open. He grabbed my bags, pressed a series of buttons, and the doors closed. “No one can get in, and if you try, you can’t get out without the code. Trust me, it’s for your own safety.”
We’d see about that. I was happy to be a naughty girl in the bedroom and have a hot, sexy man to call daddy, but I didn’t need mansplaining. I was an independent woman, or so I told myself. My friends always came to me for advice. Gabriel just hadn’t seen that side of me yet, but he would.
We weren’t on top of a skyscraper, as Gabriel didn’t need to act like some entitled lord over all he owned, like my father. His apartment building was maybe six or seven floors, and we wereclearly in the penthouse. I guessed it was about two thousand square feet, and it overlooked a manmade lake and park, which was relaxing. I took a seat facing the windows.
“Cheryl, can I get you anything? Are you hungry? Coffee, tea, or something stronger?” Right on cue, my stomach rumbled. I had coffee and a biscuit for breakfast six hours ago, and just realized I was starving.
I blushed, and Gabriel laughed. “How about an egg white omelet stuffed with vegetables and vegan cheese, organic sprouted grain toast, and a side of fruit?” Seriously, he had all that? I was impressed.
“Yes, please. That sounds perfect.” He left, and I followed him into his kitchen, where I immediately understood his love of food—and where his budget must have gone. The kitchen was stunning, outfitted with various gray stones, slates, and tiles, with top-of-the-line La Cornue appliances. Most intriguing was the lack of wall-mounted cupboards, which made the space appear luxurious and spacious.
His kitchen showed off his taste, and at that moment, I felt I’d gained a deeper insight into Gabriel. “Wow, this is an amazing kitchen, and I love your double Sub-Zero with the glass door. Nice touch. If I cooked, I’d have a fridge like that. Mine is always empty.”
Gabriel was busy grabbing ingredients. “Oh?” He stopped and gazed at me. “Why?”
“Well, I grew up with a cook and a nanny, so I didn’t learn anything. I order in or go out when I’m hungry. One day, maybe I will learn, but right now, I don’t have time for anything but pursuing my psychology degree. It is the only thing that matters.” I’d basically just told the hottest, sexiest man I’d ever met that I had no room for him in my life... and yes, it was a test.
“I’m calling bullshit. You act like the dutiful daughter, doing everything to gain compliments from your father butnever hearing what you actually need. You aren’t after a degree because you want a profession. You want it for your father’s approval, thinking it will get it for you, but you’re wrong. Your father doesn’t give a shit about your education.”
Gabriel turned to start the stove and put the vegetables in the pan, missing my glare. That asshole. As much as I wanted to be pissed off at him and call him a liar, he wasn’t wrong. I didn’t want to be a psychologist, and I pursued my education for accolades instead of passion.
