Page 78 of Rescuing Ally: Part 1

“You’re not coming?” I ask, glancing back at him.

Gabe’s voice is rough near my ear. “He gives me space when I’m like this.”

“Like what?” The question barely leaves my lips.

“Feral.”

Everything else falls away as Gabe’s hand presses against the small of my back, urgent and possessive. His touch has something different—an edge, a rawness that wasn’t there before. My words unleashed something wild in him that he’s been keeping carefully leashed.

The bedroom door slams closed behind us. In seconds, I’m backed against the wall, his hands pinning my wrists above my head. My shirt tears under his impatient fingers.

Gabe’s grip tightens as he hauls me against him, his breath hotat my ear. “You talk about being a slave, sweetheart? You have no idea what that means.”

My pulse stutters, my body caught between anticipation and the raw hunger in his voice. Something primal flashes in his eyes—something I’ve never seen before. The careful restraint he always maintains is crumbling before me.

He drags his lips along my jaw, slow and deliberate. “A master doesn’t take. He owns. Controls. Makes you beg for what only he can give.” His teeth scrape my throat, making me shudder. “You want to play at words, throw them around like a tease?”

His hand tightens in my hair, tipping my head back to expose my neck. His other hand grips my hip, fingers digging in, possessive.

“You say you’re our slave?” His voice is a dark promise, vibrating against my skin. “Let’s see if you can handle what that means.”

Heat coils low in my belly, my breath coming in short, uneven gasps. I started this game, but Gabe is finishing it, and there’s no mistaking it—he intends to win.

He presses against me, his body hard and demanding, stealing my breath. This isn’t the controlled Gabe I’ve come to know—this is wild and untamed. A man consumed by desire, pushing at the edges of his control. The air between us crackles with tension, with possibility, with danger.

“I’ve been holding back,” he says, teeth grazing my collarbone. “Being gentle. Considerate.” His eyes meet mine, pupils blown wide, something feral lurking behind them. “Civilized.” His hand tangles in my hair, tugging my head back to expose my neck to him. “Not anymore.”

The last word falls like a bomb between us. My heart hammers against my ribs, not with fear but with exhilaration. This is what I wanted—to see what lies beneath his careful exterior, to push him beyond the boundaries he’s set.

His kiss is bruising, possessive, taking rather than asking. Every movement screams of ownership, of possession. His intensity overwhelms me—the single-minded focus with which hechases his pleasure consumes everything. He lifts me effortlessly, wrapping my legs around his waist.

“Is this what you want?” he demands, his voice a rasp of need. “To see what happens when I stop holding back? When I no longer pretend to be tame? You want to be taken? Used?”

A nod is all I can manage, breathless under the onslaught of his passion. This Gabe is a force of nature—overwhelming, unstoppable.

His eyes lock with mine, a predator’s gaze. “Don’t push me if you aren’t ready for the consequences, sweetheart.” His voice is barely recognizable, stripped to pure instinct. “This is what happens when you tease a man who’s been holding back.”

“I didn’t know—” I gasp as his hand finds the bare skin at my waist.

“Now you do.” His smile is dangerous and thrilling. “It’s too late to back out now.”

The look in his eyes makes me feel like prey—wanted, hunted, desired. And yet, beneath the wildness, I see a question there.

A silent check-in.

I answer by pressing closer, a willing sacrifice to whatever storm is building inside him.

His hands are everywhere at once, claiming, possessing. Before I can catch my breath, he lifts me bodily from the wall, carrying me to the bed in three powerful strides. The mattress gives beneath my back, but I’m there only mere moments.

“Turn over,” he commands, his voice like gravel.

When I don’t move quickly enough, he does it for me, strong hands flipping me. My heart hammers against my ribs as he grips my hips, positioning me exactly how he wants.

He takes me like that, relentless and demanding, the gentleness of previous nights nowhere to be found. When he’s satisfied with one position, he moves me to another, spinning me around to face him, then lifting me against the wall again, his muscles tensing with the effort of supporting my weight.

“Look at me,” he demands, and I force my eyes open to meet his gaze.

What I see there steals my breath—pure, unfiltered desire focused entirely on me.

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