Page 90 of Hate You Up Close

He lowers his hand, teasing the waistband of my thong with the tips of his fingers.

“I already got what I wanted,” I breathe out, rolling my hips against his hard length. We both groan at the contact.

“And what’s that?” he rasps, sinking his fingers just beneath the hem of my panties.

“To break you,” I exhale. “To show you that I have just as much power over you. It took less than five minutes for you to snap. So, just admit it,” I hiss, feeling his cock twitch as I rub against it. “You can’t control yourself around me. You’re obsessed.”

“No, that’s where you’re wrong,” he growls before sucking my earlobe between his teeth. “I’m fuckingaddicted.”

I’m fucking addicted.

I don’t have a chance to process those three words before he tightens his grip on my hips and lifts me like I weigh no more than a feather. He tosses me on the bed, and my belly flops against the mattress before he latches back onto my hips and spins me around.

I’m lying on my back now, completely breathless. My legs are spread wide open, and my sensitive breasts are heaving up and down with rapid breaths. I can feel the wet spot growing inthe center of my panties, and I know without a doubt that Elliot can see it. He towers over me, staring down at me like he’s about to fucking devour me. His eyes are glued to my body, roaming over every visible inch like he’s a starved man who’s about to feast.

“Elliot…What are you doing?” I pant.

“About to finish what you started,” he hisses, slowly stroking his cock through his slacks as he stares at my leaking pussy.

God, why is that so hot? Elliot touching himself while he undresses me with his eyes is the hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed.

“Take your shirt off,” he demands, his eyes dark with lust.

I get the feeling that Elliot wants to take it off himself, but this is his way of making sure I want this. Giving him my consent. If I remove my shirt, I’m giving him the green light.

“W-What?” I stutter, my eyes darting between his.

“You heard me,” he snaps, before curling his arms beneath my spread thighs and pulling me to the edge of the bed. I audibly gasp when I feel his dick press against my core.

“Take it off,” he repeats.

I hesitate as my fingers dig into the sheets at my sides.

“I’ll make you a deal,” he says in a husky tone. “You take off your shirt, and I’ll take off your little panties. That way you only have to do half of the work. I know you’ve had a long day,” he smirks deviously.

Fuck.

“This…This is inappropriate,” I shake my head.

He chuckles.

“We crossed that line weeks ago,” he says, continuing to rub his erection against my center. “That line was crossed when you had your tongue down my throat in the elevator. But youjust obliterated any lines by walking in here with nothing on but a g-string and that pathetic excuse for a shirt.”

He rocks his hips, slowly gliding his erection up and down my covered slit. Heat pools in my core, begging for more of his touch.

“Elliot…” I whimper through furrowed brows.

“So what’s it going to be, baby?” he asks, continuing his onslaught. “Either you remove your shirt so I can stop imagining what your perfect tits look like, or you can listen to me get myself off through the thin walls of the bathroom. Either way, it will be your pretty face in my head and your name on my lips when I blow my load tonight.”

I’ve never had a man talk to me like this. It’s degrading and possessive and demanding and so fucking hot. I’ve never been so turned on in my entire life.

“I…” I trail off, feeling slightly embarrassed that I want this as much as him.

Another minute passes as we just stare at each other, his hooded eyes eagerly waiting for my decision.

“Suit yourself,” he shrugs before releasing his grip on my thighs and running a hand through his hair. He turns to leave, but before his back is to me I sit up and wrap my fingers around his wrist.

“Wait,” I whisper, tugging on his arm. I tighten my grip, pulling him closer and bringing him back to me.