GABRIEL (part 1)
Written 04.03.02
© Rogue 2002

From the moment she woke, everything seemed to go wrong. She was beginning to feel as if she'd been cursed for some strange reason. There was still a blossoming bruise on her forehead where she'd connected with the edge of the door when she went to brush her teeth earlier this morning. She found it difficult to remember the last time that she'd felt this clumsy and inept. At least this was one of her days off. 'Perhaps', she thought to herself, 'It's for the best that I didn't drive anywhere today.' The phone at her side chirped loudly, displaying an unidentified number and she glared at it accusingly as she grumbled, "If only there were a device that would shock the hell out of the person on the other side of the line..." Nobody but marketing and sales representatives seemed to call, anyway. She wanted to pitch the infernal device out the damned window. 

Sighing heavily, she leaned back into the couch, eyes narrowing as she sipped at a can of Mountain Dew. Some jagoff on television was talking about a revolutionary new product that could strip floors, clean clothes, and be used as a dessert topping, prompting her to make another strafing run through the horrendous selection of channels at her command. 
In mid-surf, the television gave out, releasing a small puff of magical blue smoke into the atmosphere with a soft popping sound. An angry tic began jerking the corner of her right eye as the hand gripping the controller with a white-knuckled ferocity began to shake. 

Yep. Definitely one of those days. 

With a guttural growl, she threw it across the room, watching it bounce off the now deceased appliance with a loud clinking sound. "OK! I GET IT! Something MUST be pissed off at me for this much to be going wrong at the same time." Working herself into a fine incoherent rage, she quickly stood and raged at the ceiling, yelling, "What? Just WHAT THE HELL did I do, huh? I mean, for CHRISSAKE!" She jumped up and down several times, slamming her feet down hard on the floor in a flailing dance of frustration. Why the hell not? Throwing a tantrum actually  seemed to be making her feel better at this point, and nobody was around to witness it, sooo...why the hell not? At the height of her frenzy, she heard a knock at the door and stopped dead in her tracks, peering around the corner towards the source of the noise. 'Who the hell could that be at this time of night?' she thought to herself as she wrapped the leopard print fleece robe she was wearing tighter around herself and headed through the kitchen to the front door. 

She padded up to it, leaning over and squinting one eye shut as she looked through the peephole to see who dared to intrude on her moment of catharsis. The tall, broad shouldered individual standing on the front step of her apartment seemed to fill the entire hallway. Although his head was distorted in the curve of the glass, he looked fairly attractive. She frowned and backed away from the door a little before raising an eyebrow and asking, "Yes?" 

The voice on the other side of the door was a pleasant, rolling rumble. "You sounded like you might appreciate a little help." There was a brief pause, then, "Everything ok in there?" 

Her eyes narrowed as she leaned forward to peer through the hole in the door again. He'd stepped back from the door a little, his lips curled into an amused grin. 'Cute, yes. Serial Killer? Maybe.' Her thoughts seemed to chase themselves as she replied, "Yep. Everything's just fine." Her tone a little hard as she grumbled under her breath, "Git along, little doggie. Go bother somebody else in the building." She continued watching him, interested to see what his reaction would be. Hopefully he'd just leave quietly. She'd be damned if she'd open her door for a stranger, no matter how gorgeous he happened to be. 

"You sure now? It sounded awful frenzied in there..." 

Her frown deepened as she noticed his grin become a little wider. Oh, so that's how he was going to play it. She squared her shoulders, grating, "I'm so very thrilled that you're this concerned for the welfare of a person that you've never even met. Really." Her voice dropped into a low growl as she spat, "Now piss off." 

She watched as the man shook his head slowly, apparently trying to keep from laughing. His voice echoed in the hallway as he asked, "Now, is that any way to treat a stranger with noble intentions?" 

If he didn't get off her goddamned steps, she was certain that she was going to shoot him. "Fuck off, monkey boy. Run along and play with whatever it is you play with. Just as long as you do it away from my door." He kept standing there, now crossing his arms, the same look of amusement on his face. "I'll call the cops, jerkwad. They can always throw your tight white ass into a holding pen downtown, if you like. They're very accommodating that way." 

"Such vitriol for such a little girl...," She could hear him chuckling, and his expression actually softened as he added, "Does it make you feel better to keep people at a distance like this? Does it..." He paused to slide his hands into the pockets of his black jeans, "satisfy you?" 

Why wasn't he leaving? More to the point, why wasn't she walking away from the damned door and calling the cops? She brushed a lock of wavy indigo hair back behind her ear and stepped away from the door. "Excuse me?" Her sea green eyes flashed with annoyance under a sharp fringe of Betty Page bangs as she gave a harsh laugh and said, 

"Aren't you the little Psychoanalyst? How entertaining. Kindly get the fuck off my steps." 

He was laughing now. She was fairly annoyed that she found herself noticing that he actually had a nice laugh. "Do you usually put up this much of a fight?" He asked. The phone was in the next room. All she had to do was walk down the hallway and collect it. Three little numbers, and she could be free of this annoying person. His voice grew quiet as he said, "Are you so certain that you want me to leave?" 

It had been over two years since she'd been remotely physically interested in anybody, and she was startled to find that her body was definitely responding to his voice, no matter what arguments her mind happened to be making. He was obviously aware of how appealing he was, and he was obviously enjoying taunting her. Both of these things should've made her want to clock him, but for some reason, she found herself curiously intrigued by the stranger on the other side of the door. She sighed and rolled her eyes, disgusted with her lack of willpower and common sense. "What is it, exactly, that you think you're going to get out of all this? A candy bar? A blow job? For chrissake, you could be a homicidal axe wielding maniac." She stepped towards the door, again peering out the peephole. 

His expression brightened, and his lips curled into a wicked grin as he answered, "But isn't that part of the fun? Not knowing?" 

Good god, he was infuriating. She snapped, "I'm sure that it's more than a little thrilling when you easily outweigh your prey. I can't say that I share your sentiment at the moment." 

"Aren't you in the least bit interested? No sense of adventure?" His voice was still relaxed, casual, as he rocked back on a heel and grinned. 

She gave a sharp bark of laughter and said, "Perhaps you should try a less obvious tactic." 

He sighed and rocked onto the other heel as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, his voice dropped an octave, "Perhaps you should have a little talk with your body. It seems to want the opposite of what you profess to." 

Her pulse jumped at his words, a light flush just beginning to color the surface of her cheeks. Her eyes narrowed as she growled, "What the fuck are you talking about?" 

His eyes seemed a little...different as he looked back at her and quietly said, "Open the door and I'll show you." 

His voice was filled with promise, and hunger. How had this gotten out of hand so quickly? A little zing of anticipation raced up her spine, bringing a hitching breath from her throat. Suddenly, she became aware of how very hot the hallway was becoming. As if a spectator in her own body, she watched her hand slowly move towards the upper lock, her fingers wrapping around it. She shook her head to clear it, and pulled her hand away from the lock as if burned. What the hell was going on with her? She couldn't be THAT desperate, could she? Her voice quavered as she replied, "Yeah, right." 

His voice was a maddening purr that set her body trembling slightly. "Little pigs...little pigs...let me in..." 

Ok, now this was getting downright creepy. Clearly, he was insane. "Please...," her voice cracked as she leaned against the door, shaking; her hair falling in a wavy indigo curtain as she held a hand to the side of her head. "Please just...go away." What time was it now? It had to be at least eleven o clock at night. Her neighbors had to be wondering about the exchange at the top of the stairs. That is unless they were in the throes of deep sleep. 

His voice sounded a little huskier, more urgent as he answered, "You have my word...that no harm that you do not desire will come to you. I only wish to...visit with you for a time." 

What a weird thing to say. He was definitely wearing down her resolve. She'd always had a weakness for certain voices, and this man was hitting all of her buttons effortlessly with his. Something low in her gut clenched, tightening and shuddering as he added, "You may have a weapon if it makes you feel any better. I honestly mean you no harm." 

She remembered the nickel plated Taurus 9mm under her pillow, and hurried to collect it. The feel of the heavy weapon in her hand grounded her, giving her something stable to hold onto as she padded back over to the door. Her breath was now coming quickly, her hands shaking as she moved the slide back, letting it snap back into place before reaching a hand back up to the lock. It turned unimaginably slowly, finally clicking back into it's housing after what seemed like minutes. She took a deep breath, steadying herself with the gun at her side, finger brushing along the side of the barrel. It was loaded with rounds that would fragment when they entered their target instead of going out the other side and possibly through her apartment walls. "Step away from the door so that I can open it." Her voice had a hard edge that surprised her as she wrapped her fingers around the doorknob and began slowly turning it. 

It popped open a fraction of an inch, and she quickly backed into the bedroom, bringing the pistol up in a solid Weaver stance. Her heart hammered in her chest as the door began to open. His head peered in, and he gave her a secretive smile, his tone heated as he raised an eyebrow said, "Nice bathrobe." Her hair spilled down the right side of her face, revealing a shorn scalp on the other side. He found himself wondering if she ever actually put the mohawk up. As he stepped inside, her heart leapt in her chest. He was so damned tall. And big. His black engineer boots made a distinctive sound on the hardwood floors as he took a step back and slowly closed the door, locking it behind him. His raven black hair was pulled back into a thick, wavy ponytail that hit him about mid back. His eyes, a stunning emerald color, glittered as he cocked his head to the side and sized her up, his grin widening. He wore a fairly weather-beaten black leather jacket and a white tank top that showed the swell of muscles under it to best advantage. 
He then looked around the room, taking everything in before his gaze flickered back over to her. He presented her with a sharptoothed grin, and leaned against the doorway, hooking his thumbs in his pockets. "At least you didn't have a shotgun." He chuckled softly. "Now...where were we?" The hungry look was back in his eyes again, and he began shrugging out of his jacket as he took a step towards her. It slid down his arms, falling to the floor in a heap. Her eyes widened as she watched his muscles sliding against one another under his pale skin. He had the build of a gymnast, and she found herself wondering exactly how limber he was. He looked to be in his mid thirties, but she'd been only marginally correct in being able to judge the ages of people around her in the past. 

Her mind was reeling, busily trying to process what was happening. For some reason, she was now having difficulty remembering exactly how he'd gotten inside. As he walked towards her, she took a step back, caressing the trigger with her index finger. "Not so fast, romeo..." She desperately wanted to remain in control of the situation, but she wasn't quite certain why. Confusion addled her thoughts, and she struggled to maintain slow, regular breathing. 

She drew a sharp intake of air as he darted towards her with an agility and speed that made her head spin. In a matter of moments, he'd disarmed her, wrapping a strong arm around her as he nuzzled the nap of stubble behind her ear and purred, "You were saying?" 

She stood very still, eyes wide as he pressed up against her back. She could feel the hard length of him through the fabric of his jeans and she shuddered, whimpering softly. Without the damper of the door, his voice seemed to leap inside her mind, caressing parts of her that she hadn't known existed. She closed her eyes, resigning herself to the fact that if it was to be rape, at least her body was preparing for it. She was hoping that it wouldn't be agonizingly painful. That he would at least let her live. She felt so stupid. Angry tears began brimming at the edges of her eyes, spilling over her lashes and running down her cheeks in slick trails. 

Gentle hands slowly spun her around to face him, and she felt his gaze upon her like a palpable thing. His presence was overwhelming. It threatened to consume her. He reached down, gingerly placing a finger under her chin and bringing her head up to look at him. "I told you that I meant you no harm, and I meant it. Ok?" 
Her eyes shining with tears, she looked back at him, frowning slightly at his words. She was now unsure of what to think. He smiled as he gazed down at her, his voice soft as he gently rubbed his fingers along the stubble on the side of her head. "It must be difficult to be so strong all the time. To never truly let go of anything, for fear of falling and not being capable of getting back up." 

His words struck her soundly, ringing true in her soul. She'd never been able to just let go, to truly set any of her burdens down. Instead of making her bitter, the lack of emotional respite had made her distant over the years and incapable of letting anybody inside. Single most of her adult life, she supposed that she'd chosen to remain alone rather than face the prospect of putting her heart into the hands of somebody that could destroy her emotionally when they finally decided that they were tired of her and left. And they always left. Now that he'd pointed it out, she could feel her choice like suit of armor that had been grafted onto her spirit, weighing it down; however, she'd always seen it as necessary in order to keep on going. Her expression hardened, and she pulled away from him, her voice harsh as she growled, "It's too much to place on another person. I should be able to carry my own burdens without help. Everybody else seems more than capable of doing it on their own." 

His fingers curled under the collar of her robe and slowly began sliding it over her shoulders as he quietly responded, "Everybody else is bullshitting you." He traced a finger tenderly along her forehead, brushing wisps of hair out of her eyes as he continued, "Let me help you. Trust me." The fleece robe slid a little further down her arms, revealing intricate black inkwork on her shoulders and back. 

She frowned as she looked up at him, asking, "Who are you? Why are you doing this? 
Why the fuck should you care?" 

"Do you remember several years ago, when you called for me?" His eyes seemed to change color for a moment, becoming a little sharper before going back to normal. 

She blinked at the display and stammered, "Excuse me?" 

"Well...it took me a while to find you." A strange sadness filled his eyes as he quietly added, "I'm so very sorry that I wasn't able to be here sooner for you." 
Her expression became critical as she took a good, long look at him. She had to admit that there was something very familiar about him, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. He seemed to think for a moment, as if trying to recall something before saying, "You named me back then. You called me Gabriel." 

Her eyes widened with disbelief and she took a step back from him as her jaw dropped. It had been a little under two years, if she remembered correctly. That's when the visions had begun. It all flooded back into memory, the vividness of the entire experience. It had all felt so real; at least until she'd woken up, that was. Then he'd started visiting her when she was still awake. She'd always found it odd that she was never able to clearly make out the face of the man that her mind had constructed for her intricate fantasies. Could this really be him? She'd been waiting for somebody that matched the man in her thoughts for so long that she found herself wanting badly to believe him. 

As if reading her mind, he nodded, his grin returning as he quietly answered, "I've wanted to be with you as much as you've wanted me to." His voice dropped an octave as he traced the lines of her collarbones under her skin. "I still do." 

Her eyes fluttered shut at the feel of his hands on her and she let out a shaking sigh. When she opened them again, his grin was gone, replaced by a look of such intensity that she swooned. His voice sounded different now, husky and commanding as he looked down at her. "Take the robe off." 

Without making a sound, she began tugging at the belt at her waist, slowly pulling it out of the knot she'd tied in it. She was beyond rational thought at this point. The robe fell open, sliding down her back and arms to land in a soft pile at her feet. Her hair contrasted beautifully against her skin, spilling over her shoulders and down her back in an indigo wave. She'd always been self conscious about her body, positive that it was hideous in it's imperfection, and so she'd spent hours at the gym trying to shape it and mold it into something that she wasn't repulsed by. Contrary to her own opinion of herself, her curves were soft and round in all the right places, her pale skin seeming to glow in the low light of the room. Her body was decorated with intricate tribal patterns of black ink, and he gave a soft sigh as he drank her appearance in. 

His voice was a low rumble that sent a delicious ripple of sensation through her. "Stand up straight." She immediately responded, rolling her shoulders back. He smiled, nodding as he purred, "Much better. Your tits stand up so much nicer that way." 

She felt herself flushing at the compliment. He took a step towards her, placing firm hands on her hips and turning her to face the four post bed behind her. The bed was constructed out of black wrought iron with a canopy of black fabric draped over the sides in a thick curtain that blocked out most of the light so that she was able to sleep during the day if she needed to, due to her night job. She felt him lean into her, his cock thick and warm beneath the swell of his jeans as he pressed her ass back into him and nipped gently at the back of her neck. Her knees buckled and he held her steady, his voice sending her flying as he brushed his lips against her ear and breathed, "Put your hands over your head. Grab the post in front of you." 

She quickly complied, her breath coming in hitches and little moans as she wrapped her fingers around the metal of the black frame, her fingers brushing against the fabric of the inner curtain. His hands burned where they touched her as they slowly slid up her torso to cup the round globes of her breasts. She cried out as he squeezed, roughly pinching her nipples and biting down on the sensitive tissue of the nape of her neck. A low growl echoed out of his throat, matched with a loud moan of her own as he began sliding a hand down her stomach to gently tug at the soft nap of fur at her groin. She rocked her head back, her mouth a perfect O shape as he let his fingers wander lower. Suddenly, he gripped the soft, curly hair, pulling sharply on it as a guttural moan fell from her lips. 

She was startled at how wet she'd become in such a short time, completely lost in the sensations he was giving her. 

His fingers probed lower, sliding along her slick sex to find the nub of her clit; stroking it in slow, languorous circles. She jerked as if she'd been shocked, moaning loudly, an almost catlike mewling sound as she shook in his grip. He was touching her just enough to keep her right on the edge, and it was all she could do to remain standing. He chuckled darkly behind her, his voice a rough growl as his fingers again gripped and pulled sharply on the patch of fur between her legs. "Would you like me to fuck you?" 

She trembled, unable to respond. She was certain that she'd entirely lost the capacity to speak. He jerked harder, causing her to cry out, her breath now coming in ragged gasps. 
"Answer me." He began to pull away from her, his tone becoming chiding as he continued, "Or would you rather I stop?" 

"NO!" She yelled, startled at the sound of her voice as it rang out loudly in the confines of the small room. "P-please...d-don't..." 

He pulled away a little further, his tone now rough as he asked, "Please what?" 

"Don't stop....don't stop...don't ever stop touching me...please..." 

Her voice quavered and cracked as she tried to lean back into him, and she drew a sharp intake of air as he slapped her soundly on the ass, growling, "Stay where you are. I don't remember saying that you could move." She felt the heat under her skin where he'd slapped her, and she found herself hoping that he'd slap her other cheek to balance the effect. As if in response to her desire, she felt the hot sting of another slap, this time on the other side as he growled, "Spread your legs." 

She obeyed, her legs trembling with the effort of holding her upright. She felt his hand gently stroking the soft skin of her buttocks, and cried out when he slapped her again, this time harder. Another slap and she shuddered, a guttural lowing sound echoing out of her throat. He grinned with satisfaction as he slid his hand lower, dipping between her legs to find her sweet spot wet and ready for him. He sighed as he began slowly circling her clit, enjoying the way she cried out, her body arching and shaking as his movements became more deliberate, faster. Her breath was now coming in short, ragged gasps, her moans high and frenzied as he brought her dancing along the edge. His tone was harsh as he grated, "You're not allowed to cum yet." 

She wasn't entirely sure how she could stop the process, but wanted so badly to please him. She tried to control her breathing, and found it nigh impossible as he began making slow, delicious circles with his fingers again. "Please...," she begged, her tone pleading as she tried desperately to keep herself from crashing over the edge. "Please?" he purred, wanting her to ask for it. 

She whimpered softly, her body filled with a white hot tide of fire that flared along her nerve endings in pulse after delicious pulse. She was rapidly reaching the point of no return. "Please let me...let me cum...," she mewled. 

His voice was a low growl as he breathed, "Cum for me." 

He quickened his pace and she shrieked as the tremors rolled through her, a wave of overpowering sensation nearly bringing her to her knees. He held her as she shook, his breath quick and fast as she struggled to remain standing. He nuzzled the spot just behind her ear, enjoying the nap of her shorn hair as it tickled his lips. "Good girl." he breathed, kissing her ear and pulling away from her to rid himself of his now entirely too constrictive garments. 

He began pulling the tank top over his head, tossing it off to the side as he kicked off his boots and reached down to unzip his jeans. His cock sprung free, jerking in time with his heartbeat as he slid the pants the rest of the way down his legs and pushed them behind him. He looked over at her, delighted that she was still shaking from her orgasm, her hands white knuckling the post as her body trembled. The sounds of her whimpers as she waited for him to touch her again were music to his ears. "Turn around and face me." He commanded, pleased when she eagerly complied. Her eyes widened at the sight of his naked body, and that low clenching in her belly was back again as her gaze followed the trail of light black hair down his torso to his attentive member. With a sigh, she dropped to her knees and looked up at him as he cupped her chin in his hand. 

Unbidden, she reached out and gently encircled his shaft with her fingers, slowly stroking it as she leaned forward and wrapped her lips around him. His breath was a loud hiss as she took him into her mouth, moaning as she slid the back of her tongue against his glans. Cupping the rest of him in her hand, she placed her other hand on his hip and began slowly sliding back and forth, taking her time and thoroughly enjoying the taste of him. His hands trembled as he held her head gently between them, his head rocking back as he moaned loudly. She was bringing him too quickly to the edge, and he stopped her, wanting instead to fuck her until she was no longer capable of rational speech. A hurt expression entered her eyes as she slowly pulled away from him, and she asked, "Did I...?" 

He cut her off with a look, shaking his head and saying, "Don't speak unless I prompt you to." She nodded silently. "Get to your feet." 

She quickly rose, looking up at him with an expectant expression. "I'll ask again. Would you like me to fuck you?", he asked, his gaze sharp as he looked into her eyes. 

Her voice rushed out in a breathy whisper as she stood across from him. "Yes...please..." 

He sighed, cocking an eyebrow, his tone impatient as he asked, "Yes? Yes what?" 
Her cheeks flushed and she raised her voice, answering, "Please fuck me..." She paused a moment, before adding, "Sir." 

His lips curled into a wicked grin, and he raised an eyebrow as he walked over to a chair and purred, "Come to me." 

She gave a trembling sigh, then slowly padded over to him, wondering what he would have her do next. She was startled at how quickly she'd become so thoroughly submissive to him. It both frightened and excited the hell out of her. He was definitely a natural top, and she thrilled silently at the thought as he sat down and settled back into an armless chair, taking her hand and pulling her towards him. Her breath caught in her throat as she moved to straddle him. He grabbed her hips, effortlessly raising her up and slowly sliding her down over his cock, sighing as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and slowly rocked back to take all of him in. 

A shaky moan shuddered through her as he pressed his hips up into her, growling, "Ride me." She leaned into him, slowly rocking her hips as her breasts gently grazed his chest. He watched her eyes slide shut as her movements became a little faster, her head lolling to one side as a series of soft moans began spilling from her lips. Her hair tickled as it swayed back and forth against his chest hair. He took a shaky breath as he watched her skin glow with a pink sheen as her movements became more eager. She rode him like a pro, drowning in the sensation of his cock inside her. She was magnificent; everything he'd hoped she'd be. As he felt himself being pushed closer to his limit, is hands closed around her breasts, squeezing gently at first until she growled, "HARDER." He gripped them firmly in each hand, digging his fingers into the tender flesh and she went wild, crying out as her skin became slick with sweat. His fingers moved down to her nipples, pinching them roughly and pulling them taut. Her head rocked back and she yowled, her body jerking as he pumped up into her. They clung to each other as they rode over together, his voice building to a howl as his orgasm tore through him in a hot rush. 

She collapsed against him, her breathing ragged in his ear as he fought to get air into his lungs as well. He wrapped strong arms around her, pulling her to him and holding her tightly as her body twitched around his cock, milking him dry. After a few moments, she pulled away from him, her expression one of awe as he looked up at her. His breathing now a little more under control, he presented her with a sharptoothed grin and rumbled, "And you were thinking about not letting me in..." 

To be continued...

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