Gael's Naughty Angel: A Mafia Prince Romance

Clutching the phone in her hand, Angela mentally cursed Nina for sending her a message like that at a time like this. If she were at home and alone, she wouldn't have minded, and they'd just be laughing about it. There was no filter for Nina, and sometimes, it put her in a hot chair.

And she couldn't tell how she felt about it because her chair was Gael's lap. And he...was definitely hot.

Things happened so fast—she was only trying to grab her phone from him, but she somehow ended up sitting on his lap. What she did in his escalade was intentional, unlike this one. Angela didn't particularly hate her position, but her heart was beating erratically, which only caused her to feel slightly dizzy. Was she still drunk?

The time on her phone earlier told her that it had only been forty-five minutes since the plane had taken off, which meant she was asleep for over an hour. She could definitely still feel the alcohol in her head, though she wasn't as tipsy as they left the club.

She felt like drowning with the way his grey eyes stared at her. His gaze was firm, and his eyes were slightly glossing over when they dipped to her lips, his tongue darting out and running along his bottom lip. He looked so sexy doing that. It wasn't hard to imagine what that tongue could do to her, on her, in her.

'Damn it, Nina,' she thought.

His hand on her waist drifted lower until they settled on the skin just below the hem of her glittery dress. Without taking his eyes off her, his fingers rubbed lazy circles on the side of her thigh, making her hyper-aware of his touch. 

Shifting his gaze back up on her, he tilted his head to the side. His voice sounded dangerous when he asked, "So…pussy-eating, huh?" 

Angela wouldn't lie. Hearing him talk dirty was quite a turn-on. She had to squeeze her thighs together and immediately cursed in her head, realizing that for sure, he knew what he was doing to her. Not knowing how to answer his question, she just kept quiet.

His fingers inched higher. "Is that what you like?"

"What?" Her voice was gentle as if she wasn't sure how to speak, or she forgot how to speak. Was he talking about 'pussy-eating', and he's asking if it's what she liked? Should she holler and answer, 'hell yeah, your tongue on me would be amazing' or was that too wild?

Gael's lips twitched, and then he answered, "Research and doing some fieldwork, I mean. You like gathering materials for your book?"

Was that really what he meant? Why did it feel like he was playing with her? She cleared her throat. "Well…doing research is always part of my writing. Working my hand is great."

He cocked a brow, and she realized what she said didn't make sense, and it somewhat sounded double-meaning. She quickly backtracked, "I-I mean, doing some fieldwork is a great experience." Why the hell was she stuttering? Gael felt dangerous at the moment—the good kind of danger—and he was making her nervous.

"I see…" His fingers moved another inch higher. "It'd be an honor to help you with that."

"What...are you trying to say?"

Gael lifted a shoulder. "We're on a plane. I have the means." He smirked.

"I—" Her breathing hitched when his thumb brushed her inner thigh, and his fingers slipped under her dress.

"Mm. But what to do, Angel? I don't take advantage of drunk girls." He swept her hair back, exposing her neck, and he ran his nose along the length of it. "And you're intoxicated."

'I don't mind you taking advantage of me,' she thought. Jolts of electricity shot from the spot where his lips touched her, traveling down to her groin, making her toes curl. She angled to give him more access. "You...you also drank… I tasted it...on you at the club." Her lips parted, and her eyes closed.

"Hmmm… Then it's all the more reason not to," he murmured against her skin, flicking his tongue on the shell of her ear. She moaned.

Angela gripped his arm tightly, the sensation driving her mad. He was only teasing her, and yet he'd had this much effect on her already. What more when or if they go all the way? She shuddered at the anticipation. He was saying they shouldn't, but he wasn't stopping at all. And damn it, she didn't want him to stop.

"But I can show you…" Gael whispered to her ear, his hot breath tickling her skin.

"Show me...what?" She was breathless as she tried to open her eyes and look at him through her hazy vision.

"You need material for your book. I'd love to give you some pointers."

Before Angela could utter a response, Gael had already flipped her onto her back against the luxe sofa. She didn't get a moment to catch her breath as his lips were already crushing hers. And damn if she didn't love the feel of his weight. He was kissing her like she was his oxygen, and she didn't mind not coming up for air.

He broke their kiss and slightly leaned back—enough to be able to look at her in the eyes. "First, flying economy is just horrible. You don't wanna know how dirty it is in the restroom." He settled between her legs and then dipped his head on her neck, kissing his way down to her chest as he spoke, "Second, look how comfortable you are lying down under me." He kissed the swell of her breast as he cupped the other.

At this moment, Angela didn't really care about any of the pointers. She just wanted his lips and tongue all over her.

"Third…" He snuck one hand behind her and slowly dragged the zipper halfway down while the other slid the strap of her dress down her arm, her right breast popping out of its confines, the nipple so erect—the cold air hurt. "Don't neglect such perfect tits." Palming it, Gael played with the nub and lowered his mouth, latching on it.

She suppressed a moan from coming out, biting her bottom lip as his fiery tongue swirled and his mouth sucked on her tit. She threaded her fingers through his hair.

"And we can't leave the other lonely," he murmured, pushing down the other strap and claiming the other breast. Looking at him playing with her breasts did it for her. 

He looked up and met her half-lidded eyes. Could he see what she was thinking? She arched into him and then bucked her apex towards his groin. A wild, devilishly, knowing smirk painted his lips as if he knew what she was asking for. 

In the next second, Gael scooped her up from the sofa, his arms locking around her waist and her legs automatically hooked around his hips. His lips found hers as he maneuvered them towards the bedroom, closing the door behind them and pushing her back against it. He shoved her dress up to her waist and pushed her down to his erection. His cock twitched upon hearing her delicious moan.

"Fourth. If you must stay up...just like this...would work just fine." He playfully bit her bottom lip and rubbed his hard-on against her heated core. Even through his pants, he knew she was wet.

His fingers grazed her groin, and Angela threw her head back when he shoved her underwear to the side and slipped two digits inside her. He began pumping in and out of her while his lips trailed kisses down her tits, playfully biting the pink nipple jutting out towards him. 

Her mind was going crazy feeling him everywhere. The friction with his fingers inside her, her back against the door, and his mouth on her breasts. He flicked his thumb on her clit, and she swore she was going to explode if he didn't stop.

"Fûck. You're so incredible, Angel," he murmured just as his fingers disappeared.

The bastard. 

Gael carried her towards the bed and sat her down on the edge. "Fûck the pointers. I want you." He kissed her again, and her hands trembled as she tried to unzip his hoodie. He removed her hands and pushed her down on the bed, trapping her wrists above her head with one hand.

"Condom," she breathed.

He stopped, eyes blinking. "I don't have one." They stared at each other, and he admitted, "It's been a while. I didn't think…"

"I'm clean...but I'm not on the pill." Angela swallowed. Part of her was thankful that he didn't always carry one with him, or she'd think he could be with someone anytime. He told her three years ago—he always used protection. So it was a good thing, right? But right now, she wasn't ready to take him raw.

As if Gael could sense what her reservations were, he nodded. "Okay."

Then a sexy smirk danced on his lips as he kneeled on the floor. He slowly pulled her underwear down and kept it in his pocket before he parted her knees. "Don't worry, baby. I'll take care of you."

Those were the last words she heard before he buried his face between her legs. Her back fell on the bed as he began working his tongue and mouth on her. Oh, good heavens! Christmas came a few days early. 

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