Page 15

"It should turn me off," I murmur against her neck, "knowing how much you hate me."

My fingers trace the curve of her waist, feeling her shiver beneath my touch. The contradiction of her fascinates me — how she can claim to despise me while her body arches toward mine, seeking closer contact.

"But it doesn't," I continue, moving my lips to the sensitive spot just below her ear. "It does something to me, knowing you can't resist me."

Her breath catches, a small sound that sends heat coursing through my veins. I pull back slightly, taking in the sight of her — flushed cheeks, parted lips, eyes dark with a mixture of defiance and desire. The knowledge that she wore that lingerie tonight, that she chose it deliberately with me in mind, unravels something primal within me.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" I ask, my voice rougher than intended. "Wearing this under your clothes, just for me?"

She doesn't answer, but her fingers tighten in my hair, pulling me back to her with an urgency that speaks volumes. I resist, keeping just enough distance to maintain eye contact.

"Tonight's going to be different," I tell her, the promise low and intense between us. "I'm going to take my time with you. Make you forget why you think you hate me."

Her eyes challenge me even as her body responds, a contradiction that makes me hornier. I want to dismantle her resistance piece by piece, replace it with pleasure so intense she can't remember why she ever wanted to deny this connection between us.

"Take off your shirt," I instruct, stepping back to give her space.

She hesitates for just a moment before complying, her movements deliberate as she pulls it over her head and lets it fall to the floor. The sight of her steals my breath — the black lace bodysuit hugging every curve, the straps cross over her shoulders, the intricate pattern revealing glimpses of soft skin beneath.

"Turn around," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

She obliges, giving me a view of the back — an expanse of bare skin interrupted only by thin straps of lace that cross her shoulder blades before dipping low to where the fabric resumes at her waist. The contrast of black lace against her pale skin is mesmerizing, a work of art designed to drive me to the edge of insanity.

"Beautiful," I breathe, closing the distance between us again. My fingers trace the path of those delicate straps, following them down her spine. "Did you know I wouldn't be able to resist this? Is that why you wore it?"

"Maybe I wore it for myself," she counters, but the slight tremor in her voice betrays her.

"You little liar," I murmur, but there's no bite to it. I press my lips to the nape of her neck, feeling her pulse quicken beneath my touch. "Such a stubborn hater."

My hands find her hips, turning her to face me again. Her eyes meet mine, challenging and vulnerable all at once. I want to memorize this look, catalog every micro-expression that crosses her face as I carefully, methodically, take her apart.

"I'm going to make you feel so good," I promise, my thumbs tracing circles on her hipbones. "I'm going to make you forget everything except my name."

Before she can respond with what would undoubtedly be a sharp retort, I capture her lips with mine. My tongue traces the seam of her lips, requesting rather than demanding entrance, and when she grants it, I lose myself.

I back her slowly toward the bed, never breaking the kiss, until her legs hit the edge. Only then do I pull away, my hands moving to the button of her jeans.

"May I?" I ask, waiting for her nod before proceeding.

The denim slides down her legs, revealing more of the bodysuit — the high cut that elongates her legs, the way the fabric hugs the curve of her hips. My throat goes dry at the sight.

"Do you have any idea what you look like right now?" I ask, my voice rough with want.

She shakes her head, a flush spreading across her cheeks that has nothing to do with embarrassment and everything to do with the heat building between us.

"Like every fantasy I've ever had," I tell her honestly. "Better, actually. Reality has fantasy beat by a mile."

Her lips curve into a smile that's equal parts shy and seductive. "I didn't know you had fantasies about me," she admits.

"More than I should." I step closer, my hands finding her waist again. "Especially for someone who claims to hate me."

"I do hate you," she insists, but the words lack conviction.

"Then I'll have to change your mind." I lower her gently to the bed, following her down until I'm hovering above her, my weight supported on my forearms. "But that's what you want, right?"

I trail kisses down her neck, across her collarbone, taking my time to discover what makes her breath catch, what draws those small, intoxicating sounds from her throat. The lace of her bodysuit is both a barrier and enhancement, adding texture to my touch.

"I love this," I murmur against her skin, fingers tracing the edge of the lace where it meets her cleavage. "But I think I'd love it even more on the floor."

She nods, lifting slightly to allow me access to the hidden clasps. I take my time, savoring each new inch of skin revealed as the lingerie falls away. I won't be fucking her in this one. I need to see all of her. When she's bare beneath me, I can only stare, momentarily stunned by the perfection of her.

"You're beautiful," I assure her, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I could look at you forever."

The sincerity of my words seems to touch something in her. She reaches for me, pulling me down to her for a kiss that feels like surrender.

I take my time working my way down her body, learning her like a language I was born to speak but somehow forgot. Every gasp, every arch of her spine, every desperate clutch of her fingers in my hair is a word in this new vocabulary we're creating together.

When I reach the top of her thighs, I glance up, meeting her eyes. "Still hate me?"

"Please," she gasps, rolling her eyes playfully.

"Please what, hater?" I tease, momentarily pausing my efforts. "Tell me what you want."

"I don't know," she admits, the single syllable carrying more weight than it should. "Just you."

The admission ignites something possessive within me. I rise above her, finally removing my own clothes with far less patience than I showed with hers. When I return to her bare body, I kiss her thighs, seeking permission to fit my face right where I want it: at her center.

"You have me," I tell her as I kiss her inner thigh. I watch as the sensation makes her pant.

"So, you're saying you won't date anyone or sleep with anyone else?"

Damn… I crawl higher, lifting my face so she can see how serious I am. "You have all of me."

"Are you being serious?" she asks.

I nod. "I haven't done this before, so be patient with me."

"What?" she asks, so I smirk, leaning down to show her what I mean.

I kiss her pussy, and she squeezes my face between her thighs.

"Holy, fuck, Cade." She sits up on her elbows, breathing heavily. "I… Nobody ever has done that to me. I don't really know if…"

I kiss her thigh, nipping at it, licking it. "Trust me?"

She giggles watching me. "Not really."

"Come on, hater. You wore that sexy ass lingerie for me, baby. I want to devour you." I tug her legs until her ass is at the edge of the bed. God, she's pretty. "If you hate it, I'll stop. But I’m serious, I want every piece of you."

She watches as I lower myself between her. I kiss her legs until I reach her pussy again. I slowly lick, and immediately her body arches into me.

Fuck.

Yes.

I stroke my tongue up and down as she moans loudly. She starts squeezing my head with her thighs as I start adding more pressure, and then I stick my finger inside of her and curl. Her ass is in the air now, crying out my name.

With my other hand, I start beating my dick. Fuck, she is sexy as hell, and she tastes so fucking good. I use my tongue to circle her clit, and now she's begging for me to fuck her.

I groan into her pussy causing her to flinch even more, and now she's crawling away from me.

She blushes as I stand. Holy fuck, this is the best sex of my life. It's never been this good with anyone else.

"Something wrong?" I ask, sarcastically.

She nods. "It feels way too good."

I grin, wiping my mouth. Fuck yeah.

"And I'm aching for you," she says, glancing down at my dick.

I want to talk dirty to her, but I save it. She surprises me by crawling off the bed and grabbing my dick. My head rolls back as she starts sucking me off.

"Shit," I say, shivering. Her mouth feels too fucking good. "For someone who hates me––"

She spits on my dick, and in that split moment, I can't believe what I've just witnessed. It was hot as fuck. Now her hand rubs her spit all over my cock, and I groan. Oh, fuck.

She says, "Stop mentioning it."

I almost laugh. "If that'll get you to spit on my dick again, I'm definitely saying it again."

She spits on it again and takes as much as she can down her throat. I watch the beautiful sight and then pull her to her feet.

"Lay down," I demand, unable to hold back any longer.

"I wasn't done," she argues.

"And you think I was done eating you?" I click my tongue. "Here's what I'm going to do now. You either lay on your back, take it missionary style, or you lay on your stomach, and I take you from behind."

"Well," she says, laying on her back and opening her legs for me. "How about this?"

The confidence radiating from her body language speaks more than she would ever know. My dick pulses, ready to be inside of her. I swallow nervously, taking in her delicious body. It almost feels like she's taunting me.

"No condom?" I ask, getting overly excited to feel her raw.

She shrugs. "I'm on birth control, and I'm not a whore. Are you?" she asks.

I chuckle. "No. Unfortunately, I'm not like my brother."

"Okay then," she says as I inch forward.

I lean over body, taking her in. Fuck, she's perfect. I lean down, placing my lips on her sternum, and then I suck on her nipple. She inhales, watching me. I grab my dick and aim for her. I press into her, watching as she arches in full ecstasy.

"Saylor," I moan, stretching her out as I inch in. She takes me so fucking good, so I moan, leaning down to kiss her.

I'm struck by the staggering realization that I will never get enough of this — of her. Of the way she looks beneath me, the sounds she makes, the heat of her surrounding me. She's like a drug in my bloodstream, an addiction I never saw coming but now can't imagine living without.

"I’m about to come," I admit.

"Already?" she jokes, so I lean up to take a break. I hold it in, knowing she wants me to keep going.

I grab her right leg and put it to the other side. Now I have a perfect view of her face, her tits, and her perfect plump ass. God damn. I grab onto it, digging my fingers into her flesh as I fuck her hard, feeling like I could explode at any given moment.

I pull out and instinctively eat her pussy again. This time it's mixed with my saltiness, but I don't mind it as I curl my finger inside of her again. I need her to orgasm right now so I can fill her up with my come.

This time she's calmer, more allowing as she rides my face.

Then suddenly, her back is arching as she howls. I move my finger and tongue at the same pace, enjoying her orgasm under my mouth. When the peak is done, I aim back into her.

Her pussy is even wetter as I start fucking her, rubbing her clit. She starts crying out to me, "Don't stop! Don't stop!"

I keep going, rubbing her clit in circles.

I mutter, "I’m coming, baby. You coming with me?"

Her eyes meet mine as she rocks her hips. That look makes me fucking come in an instant. I keep plunging into her, waiting for her second orgasm.

"Let go, baby," I encourage and then it happens. "Come for me."

An intense orgasm starts to release as she moans my name, still riding my dick. I can feel my come seeping out of her.

I stay inside of her releasing my fingers from her clit and then I lean down for a kiss.

"That was so fucking hot, Saylor."

She sits up to kiss my lips again and wraps her arms around me while I’m still deep inside of her.

"I want to stay like this," I admit. "Close to you."

She laughs, wiggling on me. "It's getting messy down there."

I nod. "It is. That's how you make me feel."

She bursts out into laughter. I watch her for a moment, and then I kiss her laugh, wanting to drink it in. Each kiss, each touch pushes me higher, closer to an edge I'm suddenly afraid to fall from — not because of the fall itself, but because I don't know who I'll be on the other side.

I pull out, looking for something to clean the mess. She points at the towel hanging over the edge of the bed, admiring me as I do. I wipe my dick and watch as the semen leaks out of her, the sight turning me on all over again. I walk to her and wipe her the best that I can. We make eye contact, hiding our smiles as I take care of her.

I've never had this with anyone else before, this subtle acknowledgment that this feels right, it feels good, and we can't get enough of each other.

"Now what?" she asks as I toss the towel towards the door. I put on my clothes as she stands up to grab something from her dresser.

"I don't know," I admit, feeling myself getting turned on again at the sight of her naked body.

She throws on new underwear and a t-shirt. "I mean, how long can we keep doing this?"

I let out a small laugh. "It's only been a week, Saylor. This is our second time."

"Yeah, but…" She trails off, and by the look on her face, she doesn't seem happy.

"Are you saying you don't want to keep doing this?" I ask, meeting her gaze.

She shrugs. "I just don't know where we go from here."

I shrug. "We either keep doing this and see where it takes us, or we stop."

"You don't have to be so rude about it," she argues.

Did I sound rude? Maybe I'm getting a little flustered because it sounds like she doesn't want to keep doing this with me, and that stings a little.

I wipe my face. "I just… That was… If you imply that you want to stop things now, then…" I pause, not knowing where this conversation is headed. She seems mad, pissed. And I thought we just had a good time.

"Then what?" she asks. "Tell me the truth. Tell me what you were about to say."

Oh, she thinks I'm going to say the opposite of what I mean. She thinks I'm going to reject her, hate her, not want to do this again.

I walk to her and brush her hair out of her face. "I…" I start and then stop. "If things weren't complicated with Byron, then I would make you mine in a heartbeat."

She glares up at me, nothing changing in her expression. "But because of Byron, you refuse to or something?"

"Or something." I smirk. "You don't care about hurting him?"

She shrugs. "You do?"

I huff, starting to feel frustrated, but this is what I get for hooking up with someone who cannot fucking stand me. "Say, please be upfront with me right now. I just had really good sex with you, and it's almost like you're mad at me. And I don't know why."

"I am mad at you."

I pause, watching her carefully. That's when I notice how drunk she really is. She's fucking plastered, and it's painfully obvious.

"Why are you mad at me?" I ask gently.

Her jaw clenches for a moment and then she says, "I'm mad that you are best friends with Byron and putting him first. I'm mad that you've been hating your brother for fucking months, Cade, and then you hook up with me, and suddenly you're a good fucking person for making that massive mistake? Me! I'm the mistake! And then you make amends with your asshole brother when you've revolved your entire life around ruining him. And then you hook up with me again and you can't even acknowledge…" she trails off, clutching at her head. I feel a bit woozy too, so I brace myself by sitting on her bed.

"Acknowledge what?" I ask, wanting her to continue.

She shakes her head. "That you seriously don't give a shit about me."

Shit. My gut sinks as I watch her. Every ounce of me wants to fight and argue with her, but with the look in her eyes, I know I shouldn't.

I inhale. "I don't know how to handle this. I…I don’t know what you want me to say."

She scoffs. "It's not about what I want you to say, Cade! How you're handling this tells me more than anything you could possibly say."

"I care about you," I admit. "I want this with you. I like––" fucking you. But that would make me a douchebag, wouldn't it?

She shakes her head, crossing her arms. "You should leave."

"Saylor, I just––"

"Just go," she snaps.

I shake my head. "We're not on the same page. I can't just leave right now, Saylor. We're drunk. It's going to fuck everything up."

"Everything's already fucked up, Cade. And there's nothing you can do to fix it."

God damn it.