Page 105 of The Bratva King

It’s time to show them I’m done.

There’s a knock on the door. Gabby pushes it open, her wet hair hanging around her shoulders.

“Hey,” she says. “I just wanted to check in. I heard it was a kitchen incident. Nothing was damaged.”

“The fucking casino and kitchen are soaked. That’s damage.”

“Fixable,” she says.

I’m in a shit mood. “I’ve got the fucking media here to document my humiliation.”

“I know. But still.” She closes my office door. “Are you okay?”

I look at her. She’s asking because she cares.

“I’m fine,” I say.

“Liar.”

“I’m fucking pissed.”

She reaches out and touches my upper arm. “What can I do?”

“Nothing.”

“Talk to me.”

I watch her. I note the genuine concern in her eyes. I don’t know how to express what I’m feeling. I’m… pissed.

“I know how to get you to talk,” she says softly.

“I don’t want to fucking talk, Gabby.”

She grabs my belt buckle, pulling me to her. I arch a brow. She slowly undoes my belt. I watch her open my pants and push them down.

She drops to her knees without a sound. The sight of her there, wet hair clinging to her head, eyes locked on mine, thickens my cock before she even touches it.

The rage from the sabotage is still simmering. She tugs my briefs down just enough. The cool office air hits my skin for half a second before her warm palm wraps around me.

“Gabby,” I rasp, one hand gripping the edge of the desk behind me. The other slides into her damp hair.

She doesn’t answer with words. Her tongue drags slowly and deliberately up the underside of my shaft. My hips jerk forward on instinct. The frustration, humiliation, and need to burn something down all take a back seat.

Everything is focused on the heat of her mouth as she takes me in. She’s not gentle. She’s determined, sucking hard, cheeks hollowing, one hand working what her lips can’t reach.

I bite back a groan and tip my head back. She takes me deeper with every pull, making my balls tighten fast. Her free hand grips my thigh, nails digging in. I thrust shallow once, twice, testing. She moans around me, the vibration shooting straight through my spine.

Her tongue laps at me like my dick is a fucking ice cream cone. She sucks hard, one hand massaging my balls as she moans around me.

“Fuck,” I mutter, tightening my fingers in her hair.

She works faster, tongue swirling, throat relaxing to take me to the back. The sound of her sucking on my cock is the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard. My body tightens.

I need all of her right now.

My hand fists her hair, and I pull her to her feet. She gasps.

“I need more,” I say.