Title:
Saving Abel (Rocker Series:
One)
Author: Gina
Whitney
Genre:
Erotica BDSM
Blurb:
Abel Gunner,
the lead singer of the band Lethal Abel, is what beautiful nightmares are made
of. His gritty, melodic rasp threatens to rip your heart out of your chest and
leave you gasping for the very breath he robbed you of. His kisses, detonating
on impact, leave you ruined. Abel is also a Dom, and his appetite for seduction
is legendary and intense. After a chance encounter with Gia, his need to
dominate this woman increases tenfold. He wants to consume her, merge with her,
and never leave her body.
Author
Bio:
Gina Whitney grew up reading Judy Blume, and Nancy Drew
books. She was raised in the town of North Valley Stream, New York(Long
Island)and attended community college for fashion design. At 19 she opened a
boutique. She recently published her first paranormal romance novel Blood Ties.
When she's not writing, she's hanging with family and friends. She shares a
home with her wonderful son’s PJ and Drew, and their 200lb Mastiff Hercules.
She currently lives in Massapequa, New York. Reading has always been a passion
and obsession. You can usually find her typing furiously while shouting
obscenities over her latest work. She also enjoys a good laugh, being snarky,
espresso, and above all steamy swooning angst filled novels. She's
pathologically obsessed with True Blood(Eric ;), Games of Thrones, Borgias,
Vampire Diaries and Originals. You can also find her chatting it up with readers
on Facebook.
Links:
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7093718.Gina_Whitney
Twitter:
https://twitter.com/ginamwhitney
Amazon:
http://www.amazon.com/Gina-Whitney/e/B00DWDU1KG/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1
Buy Links:
Amazon: Http://Amzn.to/WkqsH8
Barnes and
Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/saving-abel-gina-whitney/1119877882?ean=2940149696994
Pre-order link for Forgiving Gia by Author Gina Whitney
To Be Released on October 20, 2014
The Dungeon I
On ecru initialed paper the understanding was brutally clear …
You’re to be blindfolded and waiting on
your knees for your Master. I reread a
couple of times, my hands shaking with both fear of the unknown and the
excitement of being delivered to the brink of aching pleasure. Man, I was
fucked!
Folding the note in half perfectly seaming the edges, I wondered
if I was biting off more than I could chew. The fluttering in my stomach
mounted to upchuck levels as I picked up the Hermes silk scarf. I gentled it
along my cheek before breathing in his alpha scent. Him. My
eyes closed of their own accord, heart beating in concert with my
pussy. My clit was charged and primed already with my juices, the
inner demonness scratching the surface of
my psyche, relentlessly thrashing against
confinement.
Twirling around in a sexual dream-state, my eyes took in
floor-to-ceiling windows, lush drapes pulled back. Gasping heavily, I held my
hand over my heart to keep the fucker in there. Was he planning to take me in
the open—voyeur delight? I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Then
again this was about surrendering. A place my control had no
say.
On the left was a free-standing bar, his guitar leaning against
it. Chrystal decanters lined the top. Amber-colored courage called
out to my parched throat, begging, needing something to quell the tremors
plaguing my body. I couldn’t. Could I? Or was that breaking the
rules? I couldn’t afford to piss him off, nor did I want to. I wanted to please
him, to hand over the keys to my soul for him to take up occupancy. I needed to
take purchase of the prime piece of real-estate—his
heart.
Old
demons besieged me with their clever mind tricks, fighting their way to the
surface—sneering that I would lose the man I’d come to love because of my
deceitful heart. The mother of all motherfucking karma’s was going to bite my
ass—hard. I needed to lock these incessant nauseating thoughts where they
belonged—behind a door that had no moral key and slam it
shut.
Looking to the left, I saw the fire raging in the
pastoral-styled fireplace. Above me, the erotic portrait of Abel loomed. In one
hand he was holding a set of handcuffs, and in the other a red scarf—the exact
red scarf I was now holding in my
hand.
Perfect spot! Unbuttoning my pants and blouse, letting them both
pool at my feet, I then took off my bra and panties. Flames licked my skin,
helping to ease the goose bumps stepping out all over my body. Double-knotting
the scarf, I lowered myself to my knees, thankful for the plush carpet. I sent
a silent prayer of gratitude upwards—even though God had no place here today.
Today, I would be rejoicing, reveling in and partaking of rituals practiced by
heathens.
Tempering my breathing, I thought to
myself: Namaste. But then the squeak of the door
knob stopped all thought—all thinking—sending a shiver down my spine.
His innate maleness seeped into my pores, cocooning my skin in his alpha
scent—marking my heart as his. Instantly, my body
recognized him. An unwilling groan escaped me as my nether regions clenched in
anticipation. He just chuckled.
~~~
"Very good. I see you followed my directions flawlessly. I
see that beautiful pussy’s shaved bare for me. This pleases me, Gia. And you
will see how much very shortly. But, are you ready for your Master?
If I part your folds, will you be slick and hot for me?" His warm breath
tickled my ear.
My mouth opened and closed a few times like a fish out of water,
until I finally croaked out, "Um, yes. I, um. I believe so, Abel.”
Christ, why was I reduced to a stuttering adolescent? He was fucking
dangerous and hot, that was why! Steeling myself, I needed to woman the fuck up
and show him who I really was.
Palming my chin he spoke gruffly. “Love, when we’re in this
setting, I am your God, bringer of pleasure and pain.” He released me, clearly
awaiting my praises.
“Yes, Sir. I understand perfectly,” I affirmed. My body chilled,
knowing the moment he stepped away. The ring of the crystal decanter signaled
loudly in the air. Rolling shudders had me clenching—hard. Moments ticked by at
a snail’s pace, and I wanted to rip my hair out, my frustration building as he
took his time, leaving me in this vulnerable position. He swallowed his drink.
Padding back over in my direction, he brought that delicious signature scent of
his my way. It smelled of musk and something wild I couldn’t put my
finger on.
“I’m going to taste you now,” he
declared. What? Christ on a motherfuckin’
cross! Two thick fingers teased my clit round and round,
spreading my silky juices along my seam, preparing me for his invasion. I held
my breath. What else could I
do?
“You smell like you want to be fucked.” He smiled
appreciatively. “Breathe, Gia. Your God would like to sample you. I want to
commit your taste to memory. Savor you on my tongue. Swallow your goodness,” he
rasped, leaning into my ear. I wanted to scream just do it
already. His beard scruffed against my face as he lowered his mouth
down to my ear. Every breath, every heartbeat, every swallow, was mine, here. I
had a front row seat to an erotic movie I was starring in.
Holding my shoulders firmly with his left hand, he roughly
entered my opening. One breath in, one long breath
out. With precision, he inserted two fingers
inside me, keeping his thumb on my trigger. I ground against his
palm.
“You will not come—yet. Stay still or I’ll stop,” he
affirmed. Well, that did it! I needed release and needed it
now. Fuck. Squeezing my eyes tightly, I was thankful for the
blind-fold. He had to see how challenging this was for me. With a final
stretching thrust he vacated my pussy. Pussy juice permeated the air, releasing
another gush of wetness. His sucking sound ended with a loud pop, followed by a
growl of approval.
“Taste.” He fisted my hair, driving his fingers into my open
mouth.
“Taste how sweet your pussy is?” he queried. I had the perfect
opportunity to bring him to his knees. My tongue languidly snaked its way
around his fingers, sucking greedily any remaining ambrosia—with my own kickass
resounding pop. Umm… I purred my
contentment.
A seismic roar rumbled its way free from his alpha chest. Oh, he
was affected. Breaking dominant control momentarily, he lunged forward, fisting
my hair, his tongue forcing my mouth open. Damn this Dom! My
lungs fought for air. My hands braced against his muscled chest, alive with the
vibrations from the beast tethered within—Abel. Dizziness
threatened to take me under. Pulling air into my nose, I took a deep breath.
Consuming me from the inside out, he didn’t let up. Apparently, my survival was
to be damned. Now I needed to return his kiss. My hands found their way up his
neck to his thick hair. Grabbing a fistful, I pulled. He answered my
call with his masterful tongue and gnashing teeth. Needing his cock in my pussy
now, I reached for it, feeling its thick steeliness through his jeans. He
gently removed my hands. Disappointed, I lowered my head, taking the
opportunity to nourish my blood with oxygen. He forced my hands behind my back.
I sat on the back of my knees to steady
myself.
“You have to earn that, babe. You haven’t earned my cock yet.
And he has a bigger ego then I do.” He chuckled as he stood up, leaving me
again. Was he serious? His dick had an
ego?
Some shuffling of drawers opening and closing to my left had me
turning my head in that direction. My legs tingled with anticipation and lack
of activity. I hoped I wasn’t going to be on my knees too much longer. The snap
of something caught my immediate attention. Licking my dry lips, swallowing the
golf ball-sized knot, I readied myself. Sweet-smelling leather assailed my
senses.
“Do you
know what the Cat o' nine tails is, Gia?” he asked.
I had done some googling before this night, so I wouldn’t be ignorant to basic
BDSM—knots, whips and positions 101. I had schooled myself
quickly.
“Yes, Sir.
A traditionally favored whip with nine separate tails,” I qualified. Quirking a
smile, I awaited his answer. He replied by running the tails along my breasts …
down to my pussy … snapping my clit to attention. Over and over again my body
became acquainted with this new form of torture. Legs
shaking, I thrust myself to an upright position,
hoping this little exercise would stop this embarrassing bodily display of
minor earthquakes. No such luck. My body wanted to surrender to its Master. My
breathing ratcheted to panic-attack levels. An explosion of epic proportions
was near. Whack!—across my
behind. Ow! Fuck
me!
“Not
nearly yet, sweetheart. That nice shade of red on your ass is making me hard as
fuck, though,” he countered. Well, that’s not how I really meant it, but that’s
exactly what I wanted—right the fuck now. He was turned on. And that turned me
on. If his lash marks on my skin did it for him, I thought—then so be
it.
“I want to
taste you, Master. It’s only fair.” I was practically
whining: throw me a fucking bone! This
BDSM shit was killing me. I was not a patient person by nature. So I deserved a
reward for the restraint I’d been practicing today. The sound of his zipper
lowering caught my attention. The lava started to trickle down my legs
again.
“Is this
what you want, pretty girl?” He stepped up, smearing his pre-come on my lips. I
moaned embarrassingly loud.
“Yes!
More!” I demanded. He presented his cock to my tongue. It stroked his
piercings. Fuck
me.
Expertly I
lavished it with my tongue, paying homage to this rock God. Maybe his cock
deserved its own zip code? This was a locale I wanted to move
to—like, now. Pushing forward I sought his engorged
balls. Licking, flickering, and tonguing at break-neck speed to the best of my
ability, I made him roar. He ripped the scarf off, freeing my eyes from their
prison.
Although
my sight was restored, I still couldn’t see clearly. Squinting, I looked up
towards his beautiful face—and even through the blurriness, I could tell that
it was twisted in agony. He needed release. His eyes sparking with warning, he
looked as if his thread-like hold on reality was virtually nonexistent. A
sardonic smile wrenched his lips as he continued stroking his cock. Up. Down.
Up. Twist. Down. Release. Up. Twist. Down. Release. His left hand squeezed his
tightened sack roughly, his eyes glistening. His tongue snaked out to wet his
plump lips. His sooty-lashed eyes closed for a moment as he blew out a long
breath, battling for control. I gulped—hard. Something sparkly caught my
upturned eyes, bringing my gaze back to his
sack.
“Like what
you see, babe?” He smiled proudly. His tatted cock was a kaleidoscope of vivid
colors. The body of the dragon was done in green with the underside in orange
scales, the whole length of his cock ending with the dragon’s head on his
dick-head. His Apadravya shone brightly against the dragon’s
head, looking like it was coming out of its mouth.
His Mons provided the backdrop for the wings. He was a work of art I intended
to worship fully. I tilted my head awkwardly left, then right. The head of his
dick was pierced, and all along the dragon’s scaled underside were generous
loops.
“Ya like
those frenum loops, babe? Ya like that one through the head, the Apadravya?
You’ll be thanking me soon for it.” His toothy smile made me blush at my
naiveté. He took my lip-licking as a signal for further instruction in How to
Suck Abel’s Cock 101.
“Relax.
Open real wide. Get it nice and wet,” he instructed.
Relaxing
my gag reflex as per his orders, I readied my throat for his invasion. Not only
did I have to worry about his girth, but I had to guard against his hardware as
well. My mouth was desert-dry, so I pursed my lips to conjure up enough saliva
to get the job done. The wide tip of his cock made its way past my lips,
netting a groan from me of appreciation for this male, as I lavished the small
beads of pre-come on my tongue, relishing his heady
taste. God damn. His hooded eyes caught
mine as I acquiesced. I closed my eyes and sucked his head hard with a quick
swirl around his Apadravya. I spit into my palm, pumping his cock once. Twice.
His throaty groan made my clit swell. I loved his male sounds. I knew I was
doing this right. I wanted more. More of him. More
of that noise. Widening my mouth even
further, I took his cock in deeply, paying close attention to his frenum loops
with my tongue. The jingling within my mouth had me shuddering. Up. Down.
Twist. Suck. Tongue. Up. Down. Twist. Suck. Gag. Up. Down. Twist. Suck. Gag.
His fingers found their home, deeply embedding in my scalp, the pain making my
eyes mist. Licking from base to tip, I was on repeat. His eyes bored into me,
watching me intently,
appreciatively.
So I gave
him one final swirling suck, letting my lips pop loudly. Then I tried the
impossible: to swallow him
whole. Breathing through my nose, I watched. He
watched. I swallowed. The thickness of his cock swelling was all the indication
I needed. He was ready to blow—hard. My throat relaxed and opened to
accommodate his girth further. Abel hissed and thrusted deeply. Once. Twice.
Three times. He growled loudly, face-fucking me into oblivion. Surprising even
myself, I swallowed his gift of spicy goodness, humming my appreciation to this
deity. Swallowing it down and tongue-sucking his Apadravya, I inwardly smiled
as I milked every last drop of
elixir.
~~~
With a
final groan I fell back and let the fibers of the rug absorb my fatigue.
Mentally and physically, I was wiped out. I rubbed
my fingers through the filaments, trying desperately to soothe my restless
soul. At the moment, I didn’t care where he was or what he was doing. His
gentle fingers caressed my cheek. I closed my eyes, savoring his
touch.
“Oh babe,
we’re not done. Come, I’ll carry you to my bedroom.” He bent down and scooped
me up. Swaddled in his arms, I caught the look in his hooded eyes. A few long
strides, and we were in his room. He gently laid me on his king-sized bed, then
stepped back.
“I’m gonna
take a quick shower. Care to join?” He motioned his hand to the bathroom in
invitation.
“Nah, I’m
good here for now. You go. If I change my mind, I’ll find you.” I smiled
sleepily.
He nodded
and left through the en-suite. Raising myself up on my forearms, I took in the
room. Monochromatic black and white made up a majority of his palate choice,
aside from his poppy-red silk shantung comforter. Everything was simple, yet
elegant. It was clear that Abel sought the comfort of home and all of his
familiar possessions. I guessed life on the road really was
lonely.
Cocooning
myself in the lush bedding, I concluded there was no better place to be. And no
better thing than his scent. Lord above,
if I could bottle his essence, I’d be a wealthy chick. Grabbing his
pillow I brought it to my nose, inhaling his heady alpha smell. A groan escaped
me, and my clit was beyond engorged: it needed
release—again. I needed to steal this
pillow.
“Enjoying
yourself?” he asked, his smile reaching his eyes. I cursed inwardly.
Busted. He reached for my legs and pulled me across the
bed. Holy shit. His eyes were alit with mischief.
He pulled me until my bottom was at the end of the bed. I laid there naked and
began to feel self-conscious. I turned to grab the edge of the
comforter.
“Don’t
hide your body from me, Gia. Spread your legs for me. I want to see what’s
mine. I want to taste your nectar,” he commanded—and I obeyed, spreading my
legs.
When he
didn’t respond, I grew anxious. There was a mirror on the wall next to the bed
and I could see my reflection in it. What a turn-on. Me watching him—us, as his
eyes devoured my pussy. He removed his towel from his waist and turned to see
me watching tentatively in the mirror. He grabbed hold of his thick cock,
stroking and smiling, as he watched me for a good long-ass minute. This was all
one big mind fuck—and I was barely holding my own. My blood boiled while I
watched his erotic exhibition. Boy, was he ever a showman. He knelt down and
seized both my thighs, pulling them back into a V across my chest. The image of
us in the mirror was arousing. He pressed his nose along my pussy, inhaling
deeply.
“You’ve
got such a pretty pussy, Gia. I’m a man starved for this pussy. When I’m done,
I’m going to fuck you like the devil. My cock will be everything you’ve wished
for, babe.” He winked. Cocky motherfucker. Holding
my legs in place, he dove face-first into my pussy, pushing his tongue deep
inside me—growling, devouring me whole. The sounds of him sucking, licking, and
nipping my pussy made my muscles lock up. I reached for his hair. I needed to
touch him. I wanted to hold his head to my pussy until I was good and ready to
let go.
“Gia, put
your damn hands above your head or I will tie you to the bed,” he growled. I
acquiesced. I would have fucking died or killed someone if he had stopped. Oh
God, don’t stop.
“God has
no place here, babe.” His voice was demonic. Had I just said that aloud? Never
lifting his face from his meal, he pushed my knees almost flush against my
chest, lathering his face in my juice. Oh,
God. His growling, biting, and sucking were sounds I would
never forget. He was feral. Possessed. Using two fingers, he starting finger-fucking
me as he sucked my clit. My legs shaking with deep vibrations, I started to
rock my hips. Twisting the comforter in my hands, I began screaming. But he
wouldn’t let up. The rumbling from his chest I barely registered as I floated
back down to earth. My eyes now opened to a savage beast, leaning over to bite
my inner thing. I yelped in surprise. He stood tall and proud, stoking his
long, thick, massive cock, his face still glistening with my come. Nothing
registered to this alpha. He had one thing on his mind and that was sinking his
gorgeous cock into my soaked
pussy.
“You want
this cock now, babe?” he asked through gritted teeth. Still stroking
it, he spit in his hand. Fucking
hell.
“Please,
Abel. I want you now,” I begged. I needed him
now.
“Need to
hear you say it, babe. Tell me you want me to sink my cock deep in you.” His
voice was barely audible.
The grit
in his tone had me wanting to grab his dick and fuck myself with it. He was watching
me closely, his control
threadbare.
“Abel,
fuck me with that big gorgeous cock of yours. Grind that piercing over my
clit,” I hissed. That did it! He couldn’t wait another minute—neither could I.
He teased the entrance with the head. Going agonizingly slow, he paid special
attention to my clit with his Apadravya: back and forth, round and round. The
pressure mounted. I couldn’t handle another second of the exquisite torture. I
leaned forward and grabbed his
cock—hard.
“Stop
fucking with me, fucker, and fuck me already,” I pleaded. He answered by
feeding me his cock—one motherfucking inch at the
time.
“I have to
loosen you up a bit. I can’t go balls-deep yet. Let me work myself in there.
Love my girl greedy for my cock. Gets me harder than fucking stone.” He growled
breathlessly. Leaning over me, his eyes hooded, he fed me his delicious,
scorching cock. He leaned down over my face, arms positioned on either side of
my head. His warm breath hummed in my ear, as his hand reached down to stroke
my clit.
“Come on,
babe. Open for me,” he rumbled. Thrusting a bit harder and quicker, I felt my
body breaking apart for this mythical creature. My eyes closed tightly as I
tried to wrap my legs around his waist to lock him in
place.
“Not yet,
babe. I haven’t worked in my rings yet. I’ll tell you when you need to hang
on.” He nipped my ear. I sighed. Fuck, I had thought he was all the way in!
Christ, I wasn’t built for this kind of torment. I reached down to his butt
cheeks and clamped down with my hands, pulling him deeper inside me. He
corkscrewed his ass over and over. I screamed in pleasure.
“That’s
it, mama. Scream for me. You’ll be doing a lot more of that,” he exclaimed.
Biting my lip to stay in the present and not float away, I took a mental
screenshot of the moment. I felt so full, with my walls stretched to
accommodate his girth. With each thrust he sank deeper. And I fell a little
harder. Yeah, I was fucked. Literally. The sound of my blood pumping through my
veins roared in my ears. I couldn’t tell if it was my breathing or his. It was
a hodgepodge of ecstatic noises. He placed his hands over mine, pinning them
above my head.
“Arch your
back for me, babe, and spread those pretty legs nice and wide. I’m going to own
this pussy right the fuck now,” he hissed. I did as he asked, completely
submitting. After all, this was what he had asked for: total and utter
submission.
“That’s
it, babe. Offer me that sweet cunt,” he whispered. How did he make my least
favorite word sound like a fucking sonnet? I felt so incredible—so alive, our
bodies in tune with one another, rutting rhythmically in a crescendo of lust,
his frenum rings hitting spots I’d never sensed before. He manipulated my body
with expert precision. I regarded his handsome face, relishing this beautiful
man on top of me. His eyes bore into me with stealth-precision. Looking
directly into my soul, he smiled wickedly, then kissed me
deeply. Arrogant prick. Yeah, he knew he was the
best ride in town. Fuck
me.
Grinding
my heels into the mattress to get better leverage, I met him thrust for thrust.
He moved his fingers from my clit. With his other hand still pinning my arms
above my head, he pushed my right thigh up from under my knee. Just then he hit
a whole new angle and I lost it. Screaming his name, I clenched my pussy,
squeezing his cock. As he jack-hammered me, I felt his head swell further. He
released my hands, rushing to his knees. After a few long strokes of his dick,
his hot thick ropes of come painted my tits and stomach. Yeah, he was an
artist, all right. His eyes were closed, his mouth parted. His breathing was
hurried, his body still. He looked like a fucking God—absolutely stunning. I
would never get this image out of my
head.
He opened
his eyes finally—to see his handiwork, watching me closely. I smiled in
post-coital bliss. I was blissed the fuck out. He leaned over and on top of me,
kissing me with his full lips, coaxing my mouth open with his talented, wicked
tongue, not caring that his come was smeared all over his body. Most men would
mind. But he wasn’t most men. I
accepted his kisses with a moan.
He kissed
me for a long while until sleep drew me under. I slept without dreams, with
just the sensation floating behind my eyelids of colorful pastel swirls. If I
had any conscious thought it felt much akin to Alice and the rabbit hole. My
body was enveloped in his scent, marking me right down to the bone. I would
forever be his—whether he knew it or not. His to control. His to do with as he
wished. His to consume, to eat away at my very soul. I was in that deep. My
veins ran with his essence, the fuel, the nourishment, my body craved. His
melodic gritty voice carried me to the surface of consciousness. It was faint,
but it spoke to my heart—awakening me.
I opened
my eyes, seeking him out. He was singing an a
cappella version of …? What song was that? I knew it wasn’t
one of Lethal Abel’s. I listened keenly, searching for any frame of reference.
Oh, now I knew! It was his version of Katy Perry’s “Dark Horse.” His
had an edge to it. Nonetheless, it was beautiful. And more
importantly, it was quintessential Abel. He mastered everything he did, on his
terms.
Make
me your cupid—
Make
me your one and only
But
don’t make me your enemy, your enemy, your
enemy
So you
wanna play with magic
Girl,
you should know what you’re falling
for
Baby,
do you dare to do
this?
‘Cause
I’m coming at you like a dark
horse
Are
you ready for a perfect storm, a perfect storm?
‘Cause
once you’re mine, there’s no going back
…
Oh,
God. His
version of reality was quickly becoming mine. I laid back down and let his
voice pull me back under again, swathing me in his gravelly tones—carrying me
to him.
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