Gael's Naughty Angel: A Mafia Prince Romance

[Song Recommendation: Something Just Like This by The Chainsmokers, Coldplay]

When Gael came onto Angela on the dance floor, she instantly felt the worry in her chest dissipate. She had planned to ignore him after what she witnessed but the moment he touched her, she was a goner.

For a split second, her mind went back to what she saw on the second floor a while ago. Though Val told her not to look at them, she couldn't help but peek whenever she could. The men were mostly just talking, but there was a point when Gael seemed angry that he threw a glass on the floor. She didn't know what it was all about, but she wished she could go up there and...maybe calm him down? But she stayed out of it, not knowing what she'd be dipping her nose into.

And then that...that...Finding Dory came and straddled him. Her mood went sour immediately, even when she didn't try to. Her brain just went into places she didn't want. But as soon as Gael kissed her, everything went poof. He was right there with her now. Nothing else mattered.

Angela and Gael were definitely out of sync in the middle of the dancefloor. While everyone else around them jumped and swayed, their bodies were pressed together impossibly closer. They didn't care whether eyes were looking their way as they made out instead of dancing—well, she was dancing—she was grinding on his thigh. Had she not drunk a few glasses before this, she'd probably stop herself from dry humping on him. This was just wild, and yet she didn't care.

How fitting was the song in the club? She wasn't looking for someone perfect, just someone she could depend on, someone she could kiss. She definitely wanted something like this—and probably even more. She wanted Gael.

He pulled her closer, and her dress hiked up higher. She didn't know how he was doing it but his thigh was brushing against her apex, causing friction in the right places. Gael was still kissing her, his thumb still brushing her nipple, and now his other hand slid down until his fingers brushed her inner thigh, teasing her. If he could just slip it and touch her—another moan came out when his fingers grazed her center.

"Fûck, baby, you're soaked," he groaned before her lips.

Angela felt so naughty as she rubbed against his fingers, wanting more of his heat. The only barrier was her underwear, but it was deliriously good—so good, she'd probably come apart any second now.

And then his fingers disappeared. A whimper lodged in her throat; she missed his touch right away. 'Why stop? Don't stop!' she quietly protested.

Looking up at him, she caught him glaring at someone over her shoulder—probably an onlooker. Angela was tempted to turn her head to look, but the hand that was on her breast reached up to cup her cheek as if stopping her from what she was about to do. And then his eyes were on her again. Grey eyes pierced through her, they were like coal—one spark, and he was ablaze. No one had ever looked at her that way before. 

And as if his hot gaze wasn't enough, he lifted his index and middle fingers to his lips. His tongue darted out, licking the digits that were rubbing her wet core not long ago. Gael sucked on the tips before a devilish smirk ghosted his face. "You taste so good."

She swallowed. That was so hot. Gael was so damn sexy being a bad boy—no, he wasn't a boy. Not at all. He was definitely a man.

"But I'm not willing to share you with everyone here," he added. And she understood what he meant. Perhaps, he really was glaring at someone behind her.

A figure appeared next to him. Trigger. The latter leaned in and said, "Boss, car's ready out front. Your flight is boarding soon."

Already? Angela lost track of time. She was still reeling from everything that happened in the last few minutes. Gael nodded, and his arm went around her waist, guiding her out of the dancefloor.

"What about Val?" she wondered, trying to scan the area, but the room suddenly spun; she ended up swaying and almost tripping. Oops. She giggled. Damn it. She felt light-headed.

Gael steadied her. "How much did you drink?"

Her lips curled up into a cute grin as she looked up at him and raised two fingers next to her blushing cheeks. "Two flutes...oh wait, and Val made me take a shot of...of...Tequila."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "You do know you could get drunk with fizzy drinks too, right?"

"But you said I could drink. And I'm not drunk, but the room is dancing."

"Mm."

They walked out of the door, and someone handed them their coat. Angela just stood while Gael put hers on her. Soon, they were out on the street. He opened the backseat of the escalade for her, helped her get in, and then he followed inside. She realized that Trigger was the one driving them to the airport.

She didn't like that there was a gap between them. There were two rows of chairs in the backseat of the escalade, and the middle row were individual chairs with a gap in between for the passage towards the backmost row behind them. 

"Put on your seatbelt—" He swallowed the rest of his words when Angela sat sideways on his lap and curled into him, resting her forehead in the crook of his neck.

"What are you doing? It's dangerous to sit like this," he told her, yet his arms were already circled around her.

"It's cold." She sighed, tightening her legs together. Though she wore a coat, her dress exposed her legs, and she got cold quickly.

"One second." Gael shifted in his seat, fastening the seatbelt on him before his arms went around her protectively again. He nodded at Trigger. The Cadillac moved, and they were on their way to the airport.

Her ears rang like the weird silence between the loud music in the club and the calm atmosphere inside the vehicle. She was lulled by the rising and falling of his chest. Sometime during the ride, Angela fell asleep with his hand massaging and rubbing her icy lower legs.

She was slightly disoriented, waking up to the soft light inside...a bedroom? Where the hell was she?

Angela swiftly sat up, her vision slightly hazy. She looked down, and she was still wearing the silver and rose gold club dress. Then she looked around the room, noticing the airplane windows on the walls. She let out a sigh of relief, realizing that she was in Gael's private plane. That tequila was too strong on top of the two bubbly champagne flutes that she slept through the take-off.

Blinking a few times, she rolled out of bed and entered the bathroom, a little embarrassed by her smudged lipstick. The memory of kissing Gael in the club caused her cheeks to flush. What are you, a schoolgirl?

She spent a few minutes cleaning her face in the bathroom, thankful that she had a clean pair of underwear to change into. 

"Note to self: Always have an extra pair when with Gael. You'd never know when you'd need one—like now."

Angela found him in one of the seats in the middle section of the plane. He had a phone to his ear and was browsing through his iPad—she figured he was working. He smiled when he caught sight of her as she sat on the couch in front of the TV. Since he was working, she thought she'd check her messages. 

[ Antonina: Found this stuff on Reddit. Maybe you can use this as material for your book! ] 

She opened the screenshot and burst out laughing until her side was hurting. A male commenter's post read:

[ I had an ex who could only get off if my face was pressed up against her pussy so hard that I couldn't breathe. ]

Angela had to put a hand over her mouth in order not to make a noise. Her best friend always found the most interesting stuff on the internet.

"What are you reading?" Gael sat next to her.

"Nothing." She pursed her lips, stifling a laugh. Then her phone slipped out of her hand, and Gael was too fast to pick it up.

He read it, and a small chuckle escaped his lips. 

Her phone beeped, but he moved his hand away when she tried to reach for it. The horror on her face was indescribable as she read Nina's follow up message that Gael was reading.

[ Antonina: Speaking of pussy-eating... Have you guys joined the mile high club yet? It's pretty convenient that he has a private plane. At least you don't have to cramp in a nasty toilet. Imagine all the sex you can do on the sofa thousands of feet above the ground! Does his plane have a bedroom? even better! Time to research and do some fieldwork, girlie! This will be bomb for your next book. ? nothing beats 1st hand experience! ]

Horrified, Angela climbed onto his lap to snatch her phone from his outstretched hand.

The growing hard-on in his pants poked her thigh. She tried getting off, but his arms around her kept her in place. Uh-oh. Big mistake. He wouldn't let her go now. 

"Don't move," he warned.