Page 61 of Hate Me Like You Mean It

More of him, more of this, more of anything and everything he could possibly give me before I erupted. It felt like life or death.

I whined against the scorching lashes of his tongue, digging my nails into his trembling muscles, begging. His cock strained at the sound right before his hips succumbed to an involuntary jerk. The friction made me choke out a whimper so helplessly needy and desperate, I’d be kicking blankets over it for the rest of my life.

A part of me thought he might break the kiss and throw it in my face. Instead, his hips snapped against mine again, and he let out a low, tortured groan that made everything south of my navel quiver. My tongue moved purely out of instinct, soothing him with an uncharacteristically tender, sweet little caress.

It broke something in him.

With a fractured growl, Dominic bucked against me like a bull. It was rough enough to hurt, hard enough to send a bolt of lightning up my molten core, and I chased the friction with a big, needy, involuntary bump of my hips.

In other words,I humped him.

And I’d have been a hell of a lot more mortified about it if he hadn’t immediately shoved us away from the wall, placed me on a counter, lifted my knee, yanked my hips forward, and returned the favor with a brutal thrust that ignited a crackling explosion of sparks and pleasure between my legs.

The urge to yank off his belt and shove my jeans down slammed into me like a tsunami. In that moment, I’d have willingly—happily—sacrificed no less than two decades of my life if it meant he’d bend me over the counter and rail me from behind.

The tension was coiling tighter, burning me to a crisp. The ache for more was so intense and rooted so deep that it made me want to weep for relief. I’d never felt a need so potent and overwhelming in my life.

Our movements grew increasingly frantic and distressed, until his fingers finally hooked under the waistband of my jeans, using it to slant my hips upward so that—ohmygodholyshityesrightthere.

I could feel so much of him at this angle. It was… I’d never… oh god, make that three. I’d sign away three decades of my life for him to ram into me just once.

Even through the layered barriers of fabric, he felt so unbelievably, mind-blowingly incr?—

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

I flinched and instinctively tried to pull back, but Dominic chased the kiss, keeping our mouths sealed. He fumbled with something on the counter before his shoulder jerked under my palm.

I barely registered the crash, let alone the immediate ceasing of the alarm, far too distracted by the soft “one more minute” he murmured against my lips.

I couldn’t take it anymore.

Physically, emotionally, mentally, could not handle another full minute of being taunted through my jeans. “Dom… we should…”

“Just one more,” he murmured.

What had gotten into him?

Since when was this a thing?

He’d never been into me like this—ever. In fact, he’d felt so far the opposite way that the second he’d found out about my little crush, he’d defaulted to weaponizing it against me via an exceptionally cruel prank.

But he couldn’t fake this. There was just no way.

He couldn’t fake the erratic hammering of his heart or the way his muscles were trembling under my touch.

Slipping my fingers soothingly over the back of his neck, I stuffed them into his hair. Then I dug my nails in just a bit and scraped themallllthe way back down. Dominic bucked with a wounded groan, practically ready to crawl onto the counter to get to me, and my insides turned liquid. He was a wall of scorching heat and trembling agony, and it made me drunk with power.

Then he was thumbing my jeans. Unhooking. Unzipping. Grazing the hem of my underwear, silently asking for permission.

There was something so unexpected and endearing about the way he did it that I accidentally smiled into the kiss. And I swear I felt him melt into me before he pawed at my stomach again, begging.

My thighs quivered, stretching a half inch wider for him as the pleading ache between them grew unbearable. The alarmssounding in my head were barely audible now, like they’d been submerged in molasses.

I needed this; I needed him.

Now.

I clawed at his neck again, hooking my legs around his waist. He took the hint with an excited shiver, stuffed his fire-drenched fingers into my panties… and pressed right into the electric cluster of nerves begging for his attention.