Page 78 of From Hell

I lick my lips at the thought of kissing him, tasting myself, doubting my decision. But ultimately, shake my head. “No. You can’t just keep doing that.”

He raises a brow. “Your body says otherwise.”

“I still hate you.” And there it is, the hurt little nerd inside of me that still hasn’t forgiven Jaxon for standing me up. I’m so fucking petty, but I don’t care. He can’t just eat me out into liking him again. I try to pull my bottoms up, but he spins me around so I’m facing his countertop and then pushes me down.

“How much do you hate me?” The cold surface on my breasts through the thin t-shirt and on my cheek makes my skin feel feverish as he yanks down the clothing I tried to fix. He leans over, massaging my bare ass, his other hand winding around my ponytail with a snap. All I can do is squirm, anticipation flooding my senses, pooling between my thighs.

“A lot,” I seethe.

“Good. Because I’m not done yet.” His words are low, gravelly in my ear. “I know your secret, and I’ve been waiting to eat you.”

The way he has me bent over, my ass pushed out to him, I can feel his cock straining against his joggers through the jersey-soft material. He grinds just once as if to drive home the point, and a lustful moan escapes my lips.

“So what is it, little fox? Do you need me, or is your body lying? You came into my house tonight and let me taste you. If your body has faith in me, do you? Or do you really hate me, and this is all an act?”

Jaxon’s hold on me is callous, bruising my insides and cutting me open. He’s dangling a rotten carrot, too tempting for me to pass up. To give in now would be a grave mistake; that’s what my psyche is screaming at me as I tremble, unable to relax with my shoulders rigid, my spine iron straight.

But I want it.

I want him.

“It’s all an act. I hate you more than anything.”

“Then, why are you here?” He yanks on my hair, making my head snap back, and grinds against me again. A sharp, pleasurable ache rolls through me. I’ve bitten my lip so hard, I can taste blood.

“To kill you.” It comes out as a whisper.

He chuckles, nuzzling my neck. “And yet, this the furthest you can get from killing me.” Caressing me like I’m a feral animal needing to be tamed. I strain against him, tense moans slipping off my tongue like little traitors as I hold onto the granite worktop. “Tell the truth. You need me.”

Another yank.

If it’s possible to hate him even more, I do now.

“I need you,” I grit out. As the words leave my mouth, I know it’s true. I don’t want to do this alone anymore. It’s not about having someone who understands the burden of what I’m carrying. I have that with Nola and Sage.

Jaxon makes me feel less like a demon…

Because he’s the bigger Devil, and making a deal with darkness is most likely a huge mistake.

“Please.” The moan slips out.

“Fuck, Laine, I love it when you beg.”

“I need you inside me,” I continue, grinding back, no longer caring, caught in the worst moment.

“I would love nothing more than to fuck you right now and have you scream my name,” he drawls in my ear, the heat of his breath turning me inside out. “But not tonight.”

“What?” I hiss at him.

“You should go to bed.”

They’re the last words I want to hear as Jaxon pulls me off the counter and into his solid arms. Flushing crimson, hot and shaky all over, I stumble away from him, hauling up my tracksuit bottoms.

The smirk on his lips begs to be slapped. Was I played? Did Jaxon play me? “Fuck you, Jaxon Clémont,” I mutter. I start walking toward the door, ignoring the woosh of light-headedness threatening to bowl me over.

He stalks in front of me, eyes unreadable. “Where are you going?”

“Home. To bed like you told me.”