“I can smell you,” he growled, trailing his fingers delicately up her inner thigh, gathering some of her arousal that coated her inner lips, and pressing the pad of his thumb against her clit. “Smell how bad you want me. How bad you want my cock in your tight little cunt.”
Normally, a man smelling her arousal would be something that would embarrass her. Yet, with Aiden, she was turned on by it. She didn’t care. Didn’t give a damn that he knew how hot she was for him. How much she wanted him. He clearly wanted her, too, otherwise, he wouldn’t have attacked her with his mouth and undressed her.
Her body was open and ready for him. Ready to welcome the enemy.
They could keep things drama free for Rayma and Jordan’s sake, but right now, they had things they needed to clear up. Closure sex.
Yeah, that’s what this was.
Angry, hateful, closure sex.
That was a thing, right?
Like a bookend to a bad story. They had sex as strangers. Albeit strangers who seemed to like each other and get along. Then things turned ugly. And now, they were at the end of the book, and although it wasn’t a happy ending, they were attempting to wrap things up with a hate fuck of closure.
That made very little sense to her, but whatever. That was what it was.
Reaching between them, she wrapped her fingers around his cock and stroked him, pulling a bear-like growl from deep within his chest. “Why?” he breathed, dropping his mouth next to her ear.
She had no answers. She couldn’t push a word from her tight throat if she tried.
“I hate you,” he said, his mouth next to her temple.
Yeah, and she wasn’t overly fond of him, either.
“But I … I can’t resist. No fucking self-control.”
Whoa! Her pussy spasmed and she nearly came from that tortured confession.
With her free hand, she shoved her fingers into his hair and wrenched his head back, only to take his mouth with force, wedging her tongue between his lips. He bit her lip and growled again, taking control of their kiss, and forcing her to tilt her head the other way.
She ripped her mouth away, pulling in air like she’d just resurfaced from a record-breaking free dive. She needed to keep hold of at least some of her wits. To keep her desire for this man, whom she definitely shouldn’t want, from completely drowning her. To remind him that he hated her, and this was a terrible idea.
But still, no words formed on her tongue. The ability to put vowels and consonants together to form words eluded her.
And it wasn’t just because she didn’t want to be the one to break, it was because even though she knew this was a terrible idea, a colossally disastrous idea, she couldn’t stop.
She didn’t want to.
Then, he pushed one finger, and another into her channel and pumped. Their cheeks were glued together, sweat forming between their pressed-together skin, as they both panted, his cock throbbing hotly in her palm while she stroked him. He curled his fingers inside of her and she ground down onto his palm, biting her lip and tipping her head back. But he wasn’t having any of that, apparently, and pulled his fingers free of her almost fast enough to give her pussy whiplash.
Then she was off the counter and bent over the arm of the couch, ass in the air. She didn’t remember leaving her purse in the living room last night, but there it was, right on the floor beside his big, bare feet. He bent down and rifled through it until he found a condom. The sound of the wrapper being ripped open was deafening, and the anticipation of what was to come, agonizing and glorious.
Her legs shook and her pussy pulsed, causing another trickle of arousal to run down her inner thigh.