Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 107628 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107628 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
At the end of the evening, and three glasses of champagne and a whiskey later, I’ve gone from a buzz to feeling tipsy. I’m aware of what’s happening around me, but I’m seeing double, and my nose is numb. I’m also extremely lethargic. I’m grateful when Michael gets to his feet and announces their departure.
He saunters over to us. “May I kiss the lady, Gabriel?”
Gabriel puts a broad hand on my shoulder. “You may not.”
He makes a face of mock disappointment. “I understand. I would act the same if she was mine. You make me long for a sub again.”
“She’s not a sub,” Magda bites out. “She’s property.”
Michael sighs, barely sparing Magda a glance. His eyes find mine. “Even better.”
His wife crosses the floor to lean her head on Michael’s shoulder. “If you ever grow tired of her, Gabriel, let us know. I’ll be happy to offer her a position.”
“That won’t happen,” Gabriel says through thin lips. “She’s too valuable to me.”
“You mean her debt is too high,” Magda corrects, her glare communicating something with Gabriel I don’t understand.
Michael pats Gabriel’s shoulder. “Well, goodnight my good man. Next time dinner is at our place.” He looks at me. “You should bring your…”
Property. Toy. Four hundred thousand rand-asset.
“Maid,” Magda says.
Gabriel gets to his feet. “I’ll walk you out.” He addresses me with a single command. “Stay.”
While Gabriel and Magda see their guests off, I remain as Gabriel ordered. My head is spinning, and I’m not in the mood for punishment tonight. When they return, Gabriel’s shoulders are tense, and Magda’s mouth is pulled into a hard line.
“Goodnight, Magda,” he says pointedly.
Magda isn’t that easily dismissed. “You embarrassed me. I won’t tolerate this kind of behavior in front of our guests.”
Gabriel smirks. “They didn’t seem embarrassed to me.”
“I’ll remind you this is my house.”
“You insisted we live here.”
“For security reasons. There are a hundred or more people who’d have your head on a plate.”
“Agreed. It’s easier protecting us all under one roof. That doesn’t mean you can tell me what to do. As you said yourself, I’m not twelve any longer.”
Her nostrils flare. “Are you dealing with what we talked about?”
“I am.”
“How long?”
“Soon.”
She regards him for a moment in silence. I’m half relieved when she stalks from the room. The other half of me tenses now that I’m alone with Gabriel. His mood is dark. Is he going to punish me? He offers me a hand and pulls me to my feet. My legs are stiff from sitting in the same position for hours, and I stumble, crushing into his chest.
“Sorry,” I mumble. Oh, God. My tongue is slurring.
He sets me on my feet with his hands on my hips, testing my balance before he lets go. When I manage to stand without falling over, he steps aside and points at the door. Interpreting it as my cue to leave, I take a few steps, but I have to hold onto the furniture to walk straight. I don’t make it to the sofa before his hands stop me. With one arm around my shoulders and the other under my knees, he scoops me up and carries me to the stairs.
“The kitchen,” I protest, pointing in the opposite direction.
His chest rumbles with his deep voice. “The kitchen can wait.”
In front of his bedroom, he fumbles with his doorknob. When the door swings open, he carries me inside and kicks it shut. The medical equipment is still there. I vaguely wonder when the doctor is going to send for it.
Lying me down on the bed, he undresses me and then himself. His body is hard and rough, the broken lines and deep scars adding to his masculine, forbidden beauty. He climbs over me, pinning my arms above my head. The alcohol loosens my inhibitions. This is not a good idea. I may do and say things I’ll regret in the morning.
“Gabriel.” His name comes out as a needy gasp. “I think I’m drunk.”
“Good. A drunk woman never lies.”
He moves down and takes my nipple in his mouth. I arch up, crying out as pleasure ripples through my body.
He licks over the pebbled tip. “Do you find him attractive?”
His raspy tongue sends goose bumps over my skin. I strain my neck to look at him. “W–what?”
He licks the other nipple before sucking it deep into his mouth.
“Ah, God! Gabriel.” I fall back, panting.
“Michael. Do you find him attractive?”
He grips my wrists in one hand and moves the other between my legs, parting my folds and stroking my clit. My hips lift to him, but he removes his touch.
“Answer me, Valentina.”
I gasp as he presses the pad of his thumb on my clit. “Yes. Yes, he’s very pretty.”
His face contorts in a mixture of hurt and acceptance, as if he knew the answer but wanted to punish himself by hearing it. It’s an unusual display of emotion. He’s an open book as he stares down at me, maybe because he believes I’m incoherent, but the alcohol sharpens my awareness and senses. Strangely, my fear retreats to the far corners of my mind, leaving me perceptive to everything else, to the feelings flowing between us and especially to his fingers as he parts me and slips one digit into my wetness, taking me slowly with his finger.