Wolf.e: A Dark MC Romance
Wolf.e: Chapter 43

I don’t hesitate or think, I just run as fast as my already screaming legs will carry me out the door and into the night. My pulse hammers away in my throat as I fly through the yard and head for the woods. I know there’s a trail there, so I won’t break an ankle. Gabriel tells me he runs it every morning.

I take to it, being as light on my feet as I can be. I know he’s a runner so he’ll catch me eventually and I know what he’ll do to me if he does. That’s the thrilling part. Because even if you’re being chased by someone you trust implicitly, there’s still a fear that ripples through you at the thought of being caught.

It isn’t long before I hear the thud of Gabriel’s heavy feet on the trail. He doesn’t call out to me, he pauses and waits, so I dart behind a tree. The snapping of a twig under my Nike might as well be a goddamn bomb going off in the quiet forest. I hear his feet again and I sprint further into the woods knowing if I don’t, I’m caught.

The trail ends and I stop, looking both left and right, trying to figure out where to go in the darkness. I go with my gut and turn right, darting behind a tree as I begin to move back toward the direction of the house, and then I hear him. The night is humid and everything is already sticking to me. I see Gabriel out of the corner of my eye and my adrenaline surges as he closes in on me. I turn to flee but don’t even get to the tree line before he’s gripping my hair at the roots and heaving me backwards toward him. My back slams into his chest so hard it knocks the wind out of me.

“Caught you, greedy girl. I bet that tight little cunt has been making a mess of these panties since the moment I told you to run,” Gabriel whispers low against my ear, his arm coming around my neck and pulling tight.

‘Let’s see how much more of a mess we can make, hmm?”

I panic, forgetting everything I learned while training. Everything feels like it happens in slow motion as my breath is lost. I start clawing and hitting him, anything to get him to loosen his grip.

“No,” Gabriel says into my ear, tapping my hip, a reminder to be calm. It works. I drop my chin and wiggle it under his arm as I simultaneously step out and fist him in the groin. He lets go of me and moves before my fist can make contact with him. I fall onto my hands and knees in front of him, breathless, dizzy, cut up, and filthy. He drops to his knees behind me and pulls my ass up, shoving my body into the dirt, and I take it because I have nothing left to fight him with.

His hands slide down my ass and he groans, pulling me back against his hardened cock. I whimper as the familiar deep desire spreads.

It’s instant.

All Gabriel has to do is touch me and my body prays to him.

“My wicked girl, ready and on your knees for me. Now spread these thighs and show me you deserve my cock,” Gabriel growls as his fingers slide down the center of my pants. He lifts the thin material and tears it outward from the seam, exposing my entire ass to the air, discovering I’m not wearing any panties underneath.

“Fuck yes,” he says as he buries his face into my already dripping pussy, his hands squeezing my outer thighs under what’s left of my pants as he fucks his tongue in and out of me.

I’m still face down in the dirt but I’m pushing back into him, crying out as I do because whatever he’s doing is going to make me come apart on his tongue in what feels like mere seconds. His hands reach around and pull me closer by my hips.

I steady myself in a rhythm that I never want to end.

His hands move, kneading and gripping every part of my flesh they reach.

They slide upward and pull my athletic top down. My aching breasts bounce free as his fingers find my hardened nipples. He pinches each one and I cry out, tipping my head back. I push myself up on my elbows to get better leverage so I can ride his face.

“Fuck, I’ve been dreaming about tasting you for hours. Drown me, Brinley.”

“Yes,” I cry as I desperately grasp at the earth, rocking slowly into his face, I come in record time, feeling my pussy spasm around his tongue. Gabriel doesn’t relent, he continues to fuck me with his mouth until I’m a begging mess before him. He raises up my hips even more and spreads me wide before driving his cock into my pussy viciously with a deep groan.

“Fuuuuck, this cunt. So fucking perfect.” Gabriel spreads me even wider, and I cry as he pushes in that last inch. “Look at this soaking fucking pussy begging for my cock. Taking every inch, showing me you were fucking made for me.”

“Please,” I beg, which only makes him take me harder, deeper.

This.

This moment where he’s wild and unhinged, this is what I crave every single day. It’s what I’ve always wanted and never knew how to find. It’s in Gabriel’s unrelenting passion that he shows me what he’s truly feeling. By the way he fucks me I’d say he needs me like he needs air in his lungs. That thought makes me feel like the most powerful version of myself.

My elbows slide ahead while rocks and twigs gnash at my skin as I’m pushed forward by him brutally fucking me. My pants hang in scraps around my thighs and I start to push back against him, rolling my hips to tease him as he slides into me. The power in me grows stronger as I realize I am absolutely the one he wants. The one he craves. How much more will he want me if I tease him the way he teases me?

I find my bravery easily with him. It pushes me to be bold, motivates me to be the woman I’ve always wanted to be.

“Give me every inch. Make me scream like you want the entire forest to know who owns me,” I purr, finally feeling open and free, tossing my hair over my shoulder and looking back at him. He fists it and winds it in his hand pulling my head up.

“Fuck, Brin…” Gabriel pauses like he’s studying me, and I know my dirty words have taken him by surprise.

He pulls my head up, bringing my back to his front. Another slow tug of my hair, a deeper twist of his hand turns my face to the side and his lips come down on mine, all the while he never loses his rhythm.

“Fuck the forest. By the time I’m done with you, there won’t be a creature roaming this Earth that doesn’t know who you fucking belong to,” he growls, and I smirk into his lips.

“Make me come then, Pres,” I whisper.

“Fuck.” Gabriel’s lips come crashing down on mine again and a hand slides to my clit. He pinches it roughly between his thumb and finger, never letting up as he fucks me and I’m freefalling.

I come, then come down and the wave rises again. All the while he never stops, fucking me like he’s bringing himself to the edge then holding back. Fucking me like the slow torture of not coming is one he not only wants but craves.

He slows his pace and I feel everything, every inch of him sliding in and out of me. It brings me back to life, stoking the fire still burning in my belly.

“Spit,” he says, holding his palm under my lips. I’m so far gone, I do as he says and spit onto his first three fingers. They come down and slide over my clit as he groans.

“You can give me one more, Brin. Come on, baby, come all over my cock, one more,” Gabriel orders.

The simple, gentle word baby rolling off his tongue is all it takes and I’m coming again, my legs quiver as I see stars for the second time in minutes. His hands grip me in a bruising hold at my hips as I feel him stiffen and pulse. His warmth spreads through me with my name on his lips as they move over my neck, and my shoulders. I’m exhausted, cut, bruised, and bleeding. I’m always partly afraid, and yet I still ask myself how I ever lived without him.

I grimace at my phone. It sort of pisses me off that Layla knows a timeline but Gabriel hasn’t told me anything yet. I bring my lip between my teeth and bite down.

I’ve been in this house for two days and haven’t fully snooped through it yet. I begin to walk toward the bedroom. Gabriel is gone and I have no idea where. Club business, he said.

I pull his drawers open one by one, everything is neat, organized. Black boxers upon black boxers. Same with his t-shirts and jeans.

It’s all perfect. Too perfect.

I push open his closet door and run my fingers along the soft flannels that hang there. Carhartt. In blacks and grays, you would think he had shares in the company. As I get to the back a small wooden box with an oval inlay catches my eye.

By the time I pick it up I’m convinced that it’s probably knives or something demented but when I open it, I see different compartments. I pull each one out. The top one is full of medals and articles pulled from some sort of magazine. It’s about a mission the E-12 Marines carried out to neutralize a warlord, but during the attack the enemy bombed their own village. I look away when I flip the page over. There are photos on it. One is a village with people everywhere. Dead people. Another just like it, a car blown to bits. No wonder he has no belief in God or the Devil. No wonder his faith in people is nonexistent. How can one see this sort of carnage and come out the other side with faith?

I pull the next two compartments out and they’re filled with photos. Old ones. I instantly recognize him in the sea of kids. Big and strong even when he was young. He seems to be about ten, standing with his mother. Her beauty overwhelms me. Long dark hair, pretty features, and a beautiful smile—Gabriel’s smile. There are other photos with the club, I see the man who must be his uncle with the president patch, him and another kid on bikes. Maybe Sean?

There’s another of Gabriel in his teen years, arms folded across his chest. What hits me the most is it’s the first picture I’ve found where his eyes have the same hollow and emotionless look as they do now. I glance back at the first photos, the ones where his eyes have a mischievous light. I run my finger across them and smile. That’s the Gabriel I wish I could’ve seen, before life jaded him.

I pull another compartment out and squint. I don’t know what these are. I pick one up. It’s small, the size of a quarter and it has the Apple logo on it. I flip it over and read the back. AirTag. Can be tracked miles away, or even in a different country, provided it is within Bluetooth range of an Apple device on the Find My network.

Is he actually tracking my car? I pick one up and put it in my pocket, tidying up this mess as best I can.

I make my way down the stairs and out the front door. Pulling the device out, I look at it again and decide he’d probably put it inside. I open my door and begin my search, feeling down the cracks and crevices in between seats, under the dash, but it isn’t until I get on my hands and knees that I see it, stuck to the underside of the driver’s seat.

Motherfucker.

He makes me stay here every minute of every day while he comes and goes as he pleases? I make a promise here and now, no more. From now on, I’ll be making him tell me everything. And this little tracker?

Well, two can play at that game.