Chapter 56

"You'd better be coming straight home!"

"To my room."

I did neither. Ignoring Gabriel wasn't one of my strengths; I thought of him constantly while shopping for Anna's birthday present. That's when I swiped Gabriel's card a second time.

He called. I sent it to voicemail. He knew I was safe—he could contact my bodyguard at any time to learn my location, and he'd receive a notification from Channel about the second transaction.

Another text followed:

'Freckles, I'm not a patient man.'

I was going to make him wait, nonetheless. He'd rejected my subtle advances for weeks, not even giving me a kiss, and now, suddenly, he's desperate because I was at a sex toy shop?

Not happening.

As proud as I was that my little scheme elicited the reaction I'd hoped for, I failed to make him wait long. I was so sexually frustrated; I craved release. I wanted him.

Forty minutes after his last text, I went home.

Oddly, no one was in the living room. Luna usually was, ready to chatter about her day and hear about mine. That's the kind of friendship we'd developed, and her absence was surprising.

"Luna?" I called, dropping my bag on the couch. My voice echoed eerily.

I went to the kitchen for water. The cook wasn't there either. She wasn't always on duty, but she usually was at this time.

My heart sank, a wave of paranoia washing over me. Why was the house empty?

The men who kidnapped me—only one was caught. Could the other one have returned? The one who wanted to rape me. The one who hit me with a belt.

"Gabriel?" I called loudly, fear evident in my voice. I reminded myself my fear was irrational; despite the empty house, the external security was intact—in fact, it had been doubled since the kidnapping. No one could get in. No one could get in.

One trembling hand dialed my husband's number while the other frantically opened kitchen drawers until I found the largest knife.

Gabriel didn't answer, but I heard his phone ring upstairs.

I gulped. He was here. He was here.

Then, a second thought: What if he was in trouble? Hurt, or worse?

Against better judgment, that thought spurred me upstairs without further consideration of my initial fear.

I entered his room, panting and shaken. "Gabriel?" I breathed, my voice shaky. "Gabriel?" I took hesitant steps forward.

Footsteps sounded behind me. I turned and punched instinctively, knife in hand.

The punch was easily dodged, and somehow, in the next few seconds, I was spun around, a strong arm wrapping around my neck, my back pressed against a hard, aroused body. The knife fell, and Gabriel's whisper filled the silence. "You made me wait, sweetheart."

Relief flooded me, and I relaxed in his embrace. "You scared me."

"Did I?" His body pressed harder against mine, his erection pressing against my coccyx.

"Mh-hm." I mumbled, trying to ignore the sensations that sent shivers down my spine.

"Did you go to a sex shop, baby?" His voice was a rasp, a whisper in my ear.

My knees weakened. "Hmm," I murmured again.

"Why?"

"You—you wouldn't f*ck me."

"So you thought you'd get a toy to f*ck you?"

"Mh-hm." His free hand, the one on my waist, moved lower, his gentle touch driving me wild. I was so starved, that if he removed my pants and touched me, I think I would climax.

I'd never had a high sex drive, but Gabriel had made me an addict. I wanted him. Always.

"Is that little piece of plastic going to f*ck you better than I do?" he muttered, his touch growing faster, the friction intensifying.

"N-no," I breathed, barely recognizing my own voice. "But you wouldn't… you wouldn't touch me. I wanted…"

"Yes, baby? What did you want?"

"I wanted you to…" My breathing hitched. I lost my train of thought.

"F*ck."

"You wanted me to f*ck you? Is that it?"

"Hm."

"Then ask me next time, okay?" His hands moved further into my pants. I ached for them inside. I was wet. He knew it. What was this torture?

"Why… why didn't you f*ck me?" I managed to ask.

His movements stopped, making me regret the question. "When I saw you in the state I found you in, I was scared to touch you, let alone anything more. As if I'd break you."

I didn't understand. I didn't want to understand.

"F*ck me, Gabriel. Please. Please," I moaned, begging.

He kissed my neck. "Only I am allowed to be inside you. No other man. And no piece of plastic." He slapped my ass. "Only I am allowed to f*ck you. Only I am allowed to chase you, to stalk you, to do all the horrible things you make me want to do. You understand?"

"Yes… yes."

"Good." He pulled me back by my hair. "Now… run anywhere in the house. I will chase you, I will find you. And when I do, I will f*ck you like every part of you belongs to me, because it does."