Page 3 of Abel

Sighing in satisfaction, letting the happy, warm feeling take over, I think about us.

Sex has always been okay, but tonight… It’s different.

It feels amazing.

Almost too good to be true.

My hands fly to his chest because I’m throwing caution to the wind as I chase my release.

“Do you want me to come inside your pussy, Evie?” His question catches me off guard, mostly because he’s not good at sex talk.

Like at all.

But again… This too is different.

Listening as our bodies connect with each other as we make love has me thinking, I never thought I’d find a love like this. “Mmm, yes.” I moan when I feel him rearranging my guts.

“You are one nasty, little girl. Get ready to take Daddy’s cum like the little slut you are.” I have to stop myself from giggling, because it makes me wonder if he finally picked up one of my smut novels and memorized the pages just for this moment.

I’d be happy to take whatever he gave me, just as long as he stopped talking.

“Fuck me, Jake.” I whisper, trailing my fingers over his pecs, hoping that will make him stop. He knows I have a thing for pecs and keeps his insanely toned to perfection. “I need you to fuck me like you hate me.” Entangling my hands in his hair, I pull his head down until our lips meet.

He lets out a primal, rage-filled growl against my lips right before he takes me to pound town. “You want it, you got it, baby.” Sounds of our lovemaking fill the room, the smell of sex inthe air. I want to ask him if he can taste it, but I don’t. “You’re so fucking tight.” He groans, breaking my concentration again.

“Jake.” I whisper-sigh when he flips me over and slams right back into me. “Oh, yes.” I feel the fire in my belly, the clenching of my thighs as he lifts me at the perfect angle, hitting my sweet spot.

Post Malone said it best. I fall apart with hard grinds from his hips, thrusting in and out of me, chasing after his own release. He breaks the kiss, his mouth moving to my shoulder where he clamps, finding my tender flesh and bites.

Leaving bruises of our love.

“Goddamn it, I’m coming, baby.” He announces right before I feel him shudder around me, collapsing minutes later. Rolling off, and hopping out of bed with the energy of the Energizer Bunny, he smacks my ass and says, “Get dressed, I’ve made reservations for us on this fine Christmas Day. It’s a special one and this place is fancy, so dress accordingly.” He heads to the bathroom to shower, while I just lay there and bask in the glow of the best sex we’ve ever had.

Wait, did he just say dress accordingly?

So, that means he’s trusting me with picking my own outfit for a change.

“Sorry, basking in the glow, we’re gonna have to cut this short.” Hopping up, I retrieve my phone and quickly dial Cam.

“What’s up, sugar lips?”

“911! I need your help, and I’m on my way over.”

“Oh shit, did you stick your finger in a socket again?”

“What? No, I told you I did it once, and I’d never do it again.” Yeah, it was a friggin’ dare by him, and grandma didn’t raise no punk, so, I did it.

“Okay, whatever it is, I’m here to help. Come on over.”

“Say less.”

Hours later

We’re sitting in this nice restaurant, The Chateau, in downtown Manhattan, enjoying a nice dinner.

This place is full of rich people of all colors, shapes, and sizes. It’s one of the largest and most elegant places on this side of town. Bringing the crystal glass filled with white wine to my lips, I take a sip, admiring the beauty of this place over the rim of my glass.

What is it with the color white? I swear these people have never seen or used the color wheel when considering painting.

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