Gael's Naughty Angel: A Mafia Prince Romance

Angela stayed mad at Gael over dinner because of what he made her believe. She was only slightly annoyed until he told her that he didn't lie to her. Yeah, right. While he didn't admit that people could see them from the outside, he didn't tell her otherwise, which was still a lie of omission. Knowing he was aware the whole time but still let her believe what she thought embarrassed her. 

And if that wasn't enough, the bastard teased her more, saying, "I should've known you were an exhibitionist. Next time, tell me all your kinks, and I'll make them come true." A dirty grin crossed his face.

Her cheeks heated, and she pushed her empty plate in front of her. They were sitting across from each other at the table, and she narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm not an exhibitionist." She wasn't. She just forgot about everything else in the heat of the moment. Especially with the way he was on her—so attentive, yet so rough. Just how she liked it.

"Okay. Sure," he said, the stupid smile still on his face.

"That's it!" The chair dragged against the floor when she abruptly stood up—Gael did the same, a glint flashing in his eyes. "You better not let me catch you, De Luca." She didn't know what to do with him. Probably pull his perfect hair and drag him somewhere.

She chased him around the living room and kitchen. And it didn't help that he was fast and tall—her legs were no match for his legs that friggin' extended for miles.

Somehow, they ended up in the bedroom where he wrestled her on the bed. She squealed and then complained about how unfair that he was stronger and bigger than her. But they were already laughing.

Gael only calmed her down by pinning her underneath him, and he licked his way down between her legs—where he had his dessert. Then she passed out after another ground-breaking orgasm.

How could this man be so good at everything? Annoying. But so good.

***

Sometime at dawn when the sun hadn't risen yet, Angela woke up with a parched throat. The room was still dark, and the only light coming in was from the faint glow of the moon up in the sky. Her gaze landed on the man next to him whose legs were entangled with hers. They lay on the bed facing each other sans clothes. His face was barely readable except that there was something in his eyes that she tried to figure out.

Following Gael's line of sight through her slightly sleepy eyes, she saw him holding her left wrist, his thumb gently stroking the faint red mark around it. She got it from the bind he did on her earlier. It didn't even hurt because he was careful and even wrapped a shirt around it to act as a cushion. The mark was probably just from the pressure from the movement she did when she tried to break away from it. It didn't look like she was being tied up—more like she'd slept on her arm for a long time and didn't move.

A particular look in his eyes pained her. It seemed like he was feeling…regret?

"What's wrong?" she worried, clearing her throat when she sounded hoarse.

He looked up and met her stare. "Sorry. Did I wake you?"

Angela shook her head. "I got thirsty."

"I'll get you a glass of water."

Gael started to roll on his back and untangled himself with her in an attempt to get out of the bed, but she reached for him, stopping him from moving away. "No. Stay. I'll get it later. Why are you still awake? What were you thinking about?"

He faced her again, his face still impassive. Then he revealed a small smile, not quite reaching his eyes. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it."

So there clearly was something, he just wouldn't tell her. She didn't like that he was pulling away when he was honest to her last night. 'Sure. And you haven't told him everything yet. What does that make you? Hypocrite,' said the voice in her head.

She pushed her thoughts away and pressed on gently, "But I want to know…"

Taking a deep breath, Gael carefully lifted up her hand, and she watched as he placed a tender kiss on the inside of her wrist—where the red mark was. "I don't want to trigger anything." 

Trigger? Her brows drew together in confusion. She must still be sleepy because her brain was a little slow at the moment.

Then he continued, "I got so caught up in the moment that I forgot that you were...tied up…and blindfolded. I should've remembered. I shouldn't have done that to you, Angel."

Angela looked between his eyes. His brows were deeply furrowed, and the pain in his eyes was evident. He looked apologetic. Hurt. Gael was hurting for her. Realization dawned on her. She knew what he was referring to, and she was surprised that she had forgotten about the past too.

She hadn't thought about Evan and what he did to her a few years ago in a while now. When Gael suggested tying her up, all she thought about was him. How good it would feel, how challenging and thrilling and pleasurable it would be when she'd give him the permission to take her that way.

Exhaling a breath that she didn't know she was holding, Angela snuggled into him, placing a kiss on the corner of his lips. He was a little hesitant at first before wrapping his arms around her. "I actually didn't think about that. I forget everything and everyone else when I'm with you—especially when we're intimate."

His jaw ticked, and his arms tightened around her briefly before he pushed her hair away from her face. "You know I'd never do anything to hurt you, right? I want you to always feel safe with me. If you don't, tell me—if you don't feel safe, I mean. You have to tell me if I'm being too much."

"I know you won't do that." She nuzzled against the crook of his neck. Gael was dangerous, but he was also caring, and she wanted to thank his mother for that. While he had enemies and could certainly be violent with them, she never felt like he would hurt her—not even when he bound her wrists. This only proved how much she trusted him.

But shouldn't that trust include her telling him some of the things she kept from him?

No. Not now. She wasn't ready yet.

Gael stroked her hair and spoke above her head in a gentle tone. "I'm sorry."

His voice pulled her out of her head. "Don't be. I liked it." Angela reassured and smiled against his skin. He should know she was talking about earlier.

And he did because he chuckled. "Thank fuck."

Not wanting to think about the horrible past anymore—and that one person she loathed, she diverted their conversation. "Do you have any kinks?"

"Certainly not exhibitionism."

She leaned back, her brows knitting as she responded with a voice laced with sarcasm. "Really." This man really enjoyed teasing her.

Gael cocked a brow. "I don't like others seeing you naked, much less when I do bad things to you, Angel. I'm selfish."

Her stomach did a double flip. "Sure. And then you let me think people could see us from the window." Angela shook her head as she rolled away from him and got out of bed. She grabbed a bathrobe that was hung on the back of the chair and slipped it on her.

"You're still mad about that? Come on… Where are you going?"

"Where the windows are far away." She made a face. "I'm gonna get some water."

"Well, come back fast. The bed's already cold," he said as she walked out of the bedroom, stroking the space on the bed where she lay not too long ago.

Angela huffed. "There's lotion on my nightstand. Use your hand, De Luca. You're not getting any more from me."