A pussy will back down, or possibly, become cruel to make you feel beneath him.
A man?
Arealman?
Well, he’s going to lose his motherfucking mind, exactly how I did.
I stormed over to the dresser in the corner and yanked open her jewelry box, spilling its contents all over the goddamn place, until my eyes found Justice’s wedding rings tucked in the placement folds of the box. I jerked those sonsofbitches out of the box, stormed my way back to Justice-who, incidentally, was looking at me all wide-eyed and bewildered-grabbed her hand and jammed those motherfuckers back on her ring finger.
She closed her hand into a fist; trying to keep the rings on, or ready to deck me, I wasn’t sure. But her voice trembled when she tried to speak. “G…Gab...riel…”
I held her immobile against the wall, my body blocking any movement. I leaned down until my face was in the crook of her neck and my voice filled her ear. “Try me, Justice,” I whispered, as my hand came up and wrapped around her throat. “Because if there’s one thing you know, as evident by the money you tossed on the bar tonight, is that I have the money to ruin any man who comes near you.” I squeezed her throat, and praise Jesus, she couldn’t stop the little moan that escaped her lips. “I, also, have enough money to fight a divorce for-fucking-ever, Justice.For. Fucking. Ever.”
Keeping my hand wrapped around her throat, I pulled back so I could look at her face. Her eyes were closed, and she was biting her lower lip. I counted it as a victory because, while I might not know her favorite movie, I knew exactly what she looked like when she was turned on.
And Justice was turned on.
I planted one hand flat against the wall next to her head, while the one I had wrapped around her throat slid downward, over her tits, past her stomach and into the elastic waistband of her pajama pants. Her little scrap of lace offered no protection against my fingers. She moaned, and I took advantage of how well I knew her body.
Justice loved to get finger fucked.
She once confessed that it made her feel dirty. She liked the idea of being fucked without being fucked.
My fingers slipped inside her tight, wet warmth and I curled my finger, finding her magic spot easily. I’ve spent the last six years doing nothing but fuck this woman, I knew everything it took to make her shameless. Justice started moaning and her hands wrapped around the forearm of the hand that was inside her pants.
I leaned back down, so I could whisper in her ear as I added another finger to my assault on her pussy. “Tell me you don’t want me, Justice,” I taunted. We both knew she did. She was a soaking wet mess. “Tell me you don’t love how good I fuck you.”
“Please, Gabriel…”
I knew she was battling with telling me to go to Hell or begging me to make her cum. And I knew she was going to loathe her weakness come morning, but I didn’t care. I was fighting for my life here. I placed a soft kiss on the slope of her neck and her entire body shivered. I started jamming my fingers harder and deeper into her cunt and she couldn’t disguise the sounds of her pleasure.
I kept fingering her until she let out a deep moan and I could feel her body’s minor contractions, getting ready for her to explode. I gave her a couple of more pumps and then I removed my fingers from her body and took a step back.
At first, she looked lust worn, and I knew she was waiting for me to undress, but as I just stood there, confusion flittered across her pretty face. “Gabe?”
I crossed my arms over my chest, her scent on my fingers driving me crazy, and arched a brow. “Say it,” I demanded.
Her confusion gave way to shock and then anger. “So, withholding sex is your way of making me cave?”, she asked, pissed as hell. “Well, fuck you, Gabriel Buchanan.Fuck. You.”
I was back standing in front of her, my hand around her throat again. “Fuck me?” I snapped. “Very well, Justice.” We’d see who was fucked by morning.
Chapter 21
Justice~
I was a fucking idiot.
Seriously certified.
I could probably speak on a world tour helping people to not be fucking idiots.
I could go on Oprah. That’s how seriously fucked up I was.
The strong, independent woman in me wanted to kick Gabriel out of my apartment and tell him to go get fucked and never come back.
The lovesick, weak, horny woman in me was very aware of his hand around my throat and how wet my panties had become without reaching fulfillment.
And the sad truth was, that even though all we’ve ever done was have sex, sex with Gabriel was a life changing experience every time. I didn’t have to sleep with other men to verify just how good Gabriel was in bed. The man had no limits. Over the years we’ve done some of the most wicked things, and the fact that we’ve learned how to do those things together…well, it meant something to me. But because I didn’t want to look like a weakling, I issued him a challenge.
