Poisonous Kiss: A Dark Mafia Arranged Marriage Romance by Jagger Cole

Author:Jagger Cole [Cole, Jagger]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-04-04T00:00:00+00:00

18

GABRIEL

I allow myself to rest where I am for a moment, relishing the throb in my veins as the hunger abates.

A little, anyway.

My muscles quiver, like a tiger after a chase. My cock is swollen and sore, still dripping cum as my pulse hums in my ears. My tongue drags across my lower lip, tasting my prey as the darkness roars inside, demanding

more more more

It’s never been like that before. And I mean never. I’ve never found an equal in my depravity and my darkness like my kitten.

I should be angry. She ruined my fantasy, rendered it obso-fucking-lete the moment she turned the reality of hunting and chasing her into something a fantasy couldn’t ever touch. Something so much better it’s almost infuriating.

She’s satisfied a hunger I’ve never been able to feed.

Scratched an itch I’ve never been able to reach.

Lit a black fire inside that will not ever be going out.

There’s a very Pinterest-y saying you see on lame t-shirts that goes something along the lines of “inside each of us, there are two wolves” and then on the next line something equally as asinine, like “which one will you feed.”

I mean, come on.

There is no good wolf and bad wolf coexisting in me, both fighting for my affection and attention. There’s not one wolf that wants me to succeed and one that wants me to fail.

There are just two bad wolves within me. One is bad because he wants to rip out throats. And the other is bad because he’s, in almost every classifiable way, a sexual deviant. Someone who gets off on chasing a woman down, pinning her to the floor and forcing his cock into her tight little holes. On squeezing his rock-hard dick into her pussy while she screams and thrashes and squirms.

Like I just did. With her.

Fuck, it’s a hell of a rush.

That said, I’m not a monster. Well, not that kind of monster. My tastes may be fucked up, but they always involve a willing participant. It’s what’s kept me alone for most of my life. Most women are easily weeded out, because they’re attracted to the “good” Gabriel. Some maybe get a peek or a tease that there’s more to me. A few even suggest they’re into the same shit.

Not one of them ever is.

I’ve never met my match, and the few I’ve allowed to see that part of me and shown the beast to, have all but run screaming. Some literally do run screaming. And after all the dust settles and all the iron-clad NDAs are signed, I’m back to square one.

My kitten isn’t anything like that. And perhaps that’s what makes this even more dangerous.

Looping my shoulders and stretching the muscles of my arms, I stand and pad naked, barefoot and still hard to the table behind the couch. I smirk at the night vision goggles before I clean them off and place them back in their case next to the toys I was, sadly, unable to use tonight.

What? So I cheated.

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