Falling For My Ex's Dad by Oma Green

Chapter 118: Take It Off

His grip on my waist tightened, possessive yet maddeningly gentle. “Gabriel, I-” “You need to get used to this,” he interrupted, his lips barely grazing mine. “You’re dating a man of many means, sweetheart–one who always gets what he wants. And I don’t do small gifts.” His intense gaze burned into mine, silencing the response at the tip of my tongue. “When I have the finest things in the world at my fingertips, why would I give you anything less?” I huffed, exasperated. “Don’t you get it? This isn’t about the money.” “It always is.” His fingers dipped lower, tracing the edge of my towel’s neckline, making my chest rise and fall rapidly. “You know you’re different,” he continued, his hands gliding to my hips, pulling me firmly against him. “Any other woman would have accepted it without pushback–would have fallen over to thank me. But not you.” I glared at him. “So you think a gift is your way of staking a claim on me? Showing you own me and expecting me to fall at your feet?” His smirk deepened. “No, sweetheart. I don’t need a grand gesture to stake my claim–I think I already own you.” His arrogance should have made me furious. And it did. But, God help me, it also set my skin on fire. The way he carried himself, the way he spoke like he was untouchable. It was maddening. It was irresistible. Still, I couldn’t let him see that he was right–that he was winning. I squared my shoulders. “Well, I’m not any other woman,” I countered, despite how desperately I wanted his kisses. “I don’t want to be bought, Gabriel. I refuse to be a mistress you spoil just to keep yourself entertained.” His expression darkened, and before I could take another breath, I was pressed against the wall, his body caging me in. “Mistress?” His voice was rough, almost insulted. “You think that’s what this is?” I opened my mouth to argue, but

harden at his touch. “You’re fighting me,” he murmured, amused, his lips brushing the corner of my mouth. “But your body isn’t.” I hated him for knowing exactly what he was doing to me. “I hate you,” I whispered, but it came out breathless, needy. He chuckled, his lips grazing my ear. “Liar” Then, just as abruptly as he had taken control, he pulled back. I was left aching, dazed, my hands still clutching his shirt. “I want you to kiss me,” I demanded before I could stop myself, driven by pure desire. He smirked. “No… not until you tell me you believe me.” I clenched my jaw. “You’re infuriating.” He simply grinned, clearly enjoying watching me crave him. I should have told him to leave. But he already knew he owned me, and God help me–I was letting him. All I needed was his lips. “I believe you,” I gasped, unable to hold back anymore, leaning in until my lips brushed against his. “Thank you for the car…” His smirk deepened, satisfaction flashing in his eyes. “That’s my girl.” I barely had time to register the thrill those words sent through me before he grabbed my thighs and hoisted me up effortlessly, pressing me against the wall. His hands gripped my ass firmly as my legs instinctively wrapped around him. He trailed wet kisses down my neck to my chest. “Why do you love challenging me, my sweet?” I shuddered, feeling the hard press of his cock against my core. “Because…” I tried to think, but he was everywhere–touching, kissing, making me forget. His hand slid beneath the towel, fingers tracing my thigh, inching higher.