Angel's Mafia (gxg) ✓

XXXVIX | Run, Hide, Die

This chapter is dedicated to werefree

Thank you for being such an amazing part of this story. I couldn't have done this without you and I appreciate you with my whole heart!

WHEN THE SLOW SONG ENDS, THE NEXT ONE IS slightly more fast-paced, but not by much. We're moving a little faster, our hands roaming each other. I feel like I'm glowing with light at the fact that Angel loves me, that she told me, that I said it back.

Her hand moves towards the slit of my dress, towards the skin of my bare leg. I flash back to the memory of Nathan's rough hand there and swallow nervously.

"Is this okay? Are you okay?" she says. "We don't have to do this."

I shake my head fervently. "No . . . erase his touch, Angel. Only you can do that. Please."

Angel stills, her eyes searching mine. I don't know what she sees, but her hand continues its descent and I lose myself in the trail it leaves behind. When her fingers reach between my legs, I almost let out a moan. We're in the middle of the dance floor, and although it's dark and no one can see, the illicit nature of it makes my heart beat faster.

Angel's fingers probe higher, finding the wetness buried there.

"This for me?" she says huskily. I give her a brief nod, and her fingers plunge into the silky folds, right into my core. Heat explodes at my center, and I feel like molten fire. I writhe around her hand, trying to keep my body still.

I want her to erase the touch of Nathan. I want her to make me whole again.

She can put the pieces of me back together. I know she can.

My breathing starts to come faster. Knowing that I'm in a public place, that I'm surrounded by people who have no idea what we're doing, it makes me sink my teeth into Angel's shoulder. I collapse into her arms, trembling as a climax pours through me. I ride the waves of bliss, letting myself go with her touch.

"Come," Angel says roughly, pulling me through the dance floor. She takes me to a set of doors, and pushes through into the night air. I wonder if we're leaving, but I realize this is a veranda. With a wicked look, she leans me back against the railing and kneels.

Power courses through me, knowing that this beautiful woman, the leader of the Mafia, is at my feet. She spreads my legs, and when her tongue touches me, I almost combust. In the cool night air, I grind against her mouth, my back arching. My head tilts back, my eyes roll, and the night wind is cool against my bare skin. Angel cups one of my breasts and squeezes the nipple, rolling it between two fingers.

I groan as she plunges two fingers inside. The combination of her tongue and the movement pulls me higher and higher, building in my core. Angel pinches the skin around my nipple and I cover her hand with mine. Her kisses become urgent, desperate. I grip the railing with white knuckles, bucking my hips against her. I slide my fingers into her hair, pulling her lips tighter against me. Deepening the pressure.

As I reach that final, shuddering ecstasy, she keeps thrusting her fingers inside of me, drawing out every last bit of pleasure from me. Her fingers are coated in my juice, and she puts them in her mouth and sucks them clean. The sight of it makes me drop to knees, meeting her level.

"How do I taste?" I say.

"Kiss me and find out."

I do. Our mouths collide, tongues swirling, and I feel the heat, the passion in this kiss. I am still high with pleasure, my legs still trembling with the force of that climax.

Finally, when we stand, cleaning ourselves up and brushing off, Angel turns to me in a rush of worry. "Cade."

"Angel," I say, surprised.

"Do you trust me?"

I know I shouldn't hesitate, but it takes me a split-second to say, "Yes, I do." Dominic's words still echo in my ears, although I know he must have been lying.

"Remember that," Angel says. "Promise me."

"I will."

"Promise me, Cade, please."

"I promise."

Angel looks relieved, and we head back into the midst of the party. There is a large clock on the ceiling that shows the time: almost eleven o'clock. Why do I feel like time is ticking? It's this inescapable sense of dread. So much has happened today, that must be why . . .

Still, I can't shake the thought.

"Let's leave," Angel suggests.

"Should we bring Dominic? Or Maria?"

Angel hesitates. "No," she says finally, glancing back at the party as we head down the steps into the city. "They'll be fine."

I loop my hand into her offered arm, and we take off into the night.

>>>

So something is building up, tension's burning, time's ticking . . .

Hope this isn't too suspenseful. Love you all!

Goodnight, Seattle.

From the moon and back,
Sarai