Page 163 of The Way I Hate Him
That he never wants anyone else . . . but me.
“Bite me,” I say as his mouth releases mine.
His teeth clamp over my shoulder, and he bites down hard, the sensation pouring through me like liquid lava. I’ve never had it this hard, this passionate before. It’s as if we’re both rabid for each other, unable to get enough or satisfy our need until we both fall over.
I pump harder over him, his body helping me. The girth of his cock rubbing over my clit gives me everything I need, lighting up my body and shooting it into a numb state where the muscles in my core pull and tighten.
“I’m . . . close,” I say, moving faster.
“Fuck, me too,” he grunts out, his breath heavy on my ear as his free hand clutches my ass, and he holds me in place against the wall as he pulses harder now, driving into me.
“Fuck, Hayes,” I say, my muscles tensing.
Thrust.
My stomach bottoms out.
Thrust.
My pussy clenches.
One more thrust.
And I shatter against him, my moan silenced by his mouth as he captures my lips again, driving his hips more and more and more until he tenses, groans against my lips, and then says, “Fucking hell . . .”
He stiffens and shudders against me while we both slow down and take deep, long breaths.
His forehead presses against mine, and he says, “I could get used to the dry-humping.”
I let out a shaky laugh. “And you were making fun of it.”
“Why dry-hump when you can have the real thing?”
“Because this drives the tension. Makes the need much higher.”
“Trust me, babe, the need is at an all-time high. Can’t get much needier over here.” He presses a chaste kiss to my lips as he lowers me. “But I’ll take what I can get. And what I can get is making me lose my mind.” He steadies me with both hands on my hips. “I need to go change.”
I smirk. “Make a mess, did you?”
“You did,” he says, tilting my jaw up and kissing me again. “You made this mess.”
“Uh, you’re the one who chased me.”
“And you were the one looking at me as if you could eat me right there on the floor,” he counters.
“And you’re the one walking around here without a shirt on, so . . . this is on you.”
“I’m only walking around without a shirt on because you came to my house, acting professional, as if I didn’t just make you come under the stars the night before. I needed to make sure you were still interested.”
“Needy much?” I ask, arms crossing in front of me.
“I think we went over this. When it comes to you, yes, I’m the neediest motherfucker you’ll ever meet.” He gives me one more kiss and then pulls away. He heads toward his dresser but looks over his shoulder and says, “By the way, you’re hired again. Now get to work.”
Smiling, I say, “I don’t think I can work under these conditions.”
* * *
Hayes:Why is your thong on my bed?
