Page 45 of Daddy's Obsession


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I tilt my chin up and kiss him. “Make me screamnow.”

Gabriel smirks. “Avec plaisir.”

He rolls his hips, carefully pulling out just to press back into me slowly. He repeats the motion, slow and gentle. The bed creaks in protest, but Gabriel shows no signs of stopping. Each thrust becomes easier and easier to take, our bodies sliding together like a well-oiled machine. I marvel at how well we fit.

Dare I say it, like a lock and a key.

“Oh God,” I moan, unable to hold back. “This feels sogood.”

“Can you feel how well you grip me? Your pussy’s so good at milking my cock.”

The next time he thrusts, it’s deeper and a little harder. His head sweeps over a part of me that sends sparks flying. I yelp in surprise, face twisting in pleasure.

“Do that again!” I demand. “Oh my God,yes.”

I’m an unraveling, babbling mess. This is exactly what I need to take the edge off. Now that I have more time to plan this stupid heist, I can finally take a moment to breathe.

“Take it, Raquel,” he groans against my cheek. “Look how well you fucking take it.”

I hook my ankles over his waist, holding onto his shoulders like I might fall straight through the bed. “Harder,” I beg. “Harder,please.”

He obliges me, snapping his hips against me to bury himself deeper, harder, faster. I scream his name when I climax for the third time, my back arching off the sheets as I throw my head back with a wanton moan. Ecstasy floods my system, leaving me warm and satiated. The tips of my fingers and toes tingle, my mouth seeking the warmth of his.

Gabriel’s abandoned the English language, muttering all sorts of things against my ear in his native tongue. His husky, low voice reverberates in my chest. I can’t get over the feel of his strong arms wrapped around me, the way he grips me and holds me so close, so tight. He pulls out after one last deep thrust, giving his cock a few strong, quick strokes before he spills into his hand with a grunt, his face screwed up in pleasure. I’ve never seen a more intoxicating sight.

My body is humming in satisfaction and warmth. I’m vaguely aware of him getting up to leave, but Gabriel quickly returns, the mattress dipping under his weight. I can feel myself drifting off as he wraps his arms around me and pulls me close to him, threading his fingers between mine as he presses light kisses to the back of my neck and shoulder.

I fall asleep swiftly, feeling better than I have in ages.

Chapter 18

Gabriel

The rising sun paints the inside of our room a wash of soft yellow and orange, illuminating the freshly fallen snow in an almost golden hue. It’s sometime around 6:30 a.m. and Raquel is still sound asleep.

She’s an angel spread out on the bed, her soft hair curling about her head like a halo, spilling over her shoulders and onto the pillow like rivulets. In the light of the early morning, I can see all the marks I left on her body. She has love bites on her neck, her breasts, the insides of her thighs. I can see light traces of my hands where I gripped her tight at the waist, claiming her as mine.

Guilt twists my guts into impossible knots. I don’t regret last night. The second she told me she was a virgin, something possessive and greedy took over me. I had to have her, my ego and my pride demanding I indulge.

Because that’s exactly what she is —an indulgence, and an addictive one. I’d feel bad about how easily I gave in, but I know I’d gladly do it all over again. Anything to feel her moving beneath me, to savor those seductive little moans and whimpers, to taste her mouth and memorize the silky smoothness of her skin.

I have half a mind to curl up against her and grab a few more hours of sleep when my burner phone.

Odette.

I get up as quietly as possible, doing my best to keep from disturbing Raquel. I throw on a pair of pants and a shirt before digging the phone out of my jacket pocket, answering in a whisper. “What?”

“I hear you’re going to make your move during Van Straus’ Christmas bash,” Favreaux says, amused.

“How the fuck did you hear that?” I demand in French. If Raquel wakes, at least she won’t be able to understand me. My heart pounds, nevertheless, at the thought of being caught.

“I have eyes and ears everywhere, old friend. Or have you forgotten about my network?”

I clench my jaw, peeking over my shoulder to check on Raquel. She’s still out like a light. I’ve always known what a resourceful bastard Favreaux was, which was one of the many reasons I feared retaliation even after decades spent in prison. He has a stupid amount of influence, and where he has influence, he has power. Favreaux has connections, not only to the criminal underbelly of Europe, but to members in positions of authority —police, politicians, and other people of importance.

“I want to speak to my daughter,” I demand, my throat terribly dry.

“What’s the magic word?”

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