Page 152 of Hate Me

She arched an eyebrow. “I’m guessing you have. In your playboy days. Brief, but abundant playboy days.”

“Are you calling me a reformed manwhore, baby?”

She slapped her hand to her heart. “I’d never think such a thing, let alone actually speak the words,” she said in a teasing tone.

I chuckled.

And then I had her choking out a gasp as I lunged across our seats and covered her body with mine.

“Mmm,” I groaned as I ground against her and slapped my hands down either side of her head on the headrest. I smiled to myself as I watched her eyes roll back in her head, and felt her hips lift as she tried to rub herself against my jean-clad cock. Right on the edge, just where I loved her being. So desperate to have me, to succumb to me, to be fucked by me.

“Oh, yeah, I’ve had a shit-ton of sex right here in the car. A whole lot of dirty fucking. Christened every inch of the fancy leather. Even up against it too, over the hood, the trunk. Not one inch of it was spared. With all that, it had me thinking it would be a good idea to agree to bring the woman I love here to bask in the sordid nature of it all and completely disrespect her like that.”

She rolled her eyes at me. “All right, I get it, you heavy-handed bastard.”

I ran my knuckles over her cheek. “You already knew that, though, didn’t you? You’re well aware I wasn’t sexually prolific.” I trailed my thumb over her bottom lip. “Trying to rile me up, weren’t you? So I’d go hard on you like your sweet little cunt craves. Isn’t that right, beautiful?”

She slicked her tongue over my thumb, sending a zap of pleasure straight to my dick.

“Absolutely,” she said, smirking up at me.

“Oh, baby, you’re in for it now.”

I fiddled with the mechanism on the side of the seat and it released, making it snap down into a horizontal position, much more conducive to what was about to happen.

A gasp escaped her, her excitement barely contained.

I drew down the zipper of her hoodie and my breath caught in my throat when I found a vibrant-blue lace bustier beneath that did amazing justice to her breasts. “You came prepared.”

“Consider it your pre-graduation present,” she teased.

“I don’t even want to unwrap it, it’s too perfect as is,” I said, trailing my fingers all over her lace-encased breasts. “A fucking masterpiece.” Her breath hitched and I smiled as I drew my fingers away, then grasped the pendant around her neck, nestled just above her breasts. “Just like seeing you wearing this.”

She reached out and undid the top two buttons of my white shirt, then pulled mine out, tracing her fingers over it reverentially.

Our eyes locked, intensity crackling.

“Ours,” I rasped.

“Yours,” she said, a second before she lurched up and grasped my face, tugging me down to her.

Our lips clashed, hot and heavy.

And then we were devouring one another, lips smacking, teeth gnashing, tongues tangling wildly.

I couldn’t take it anymore, all the teasing and buildup. I needed to be inside her now.

Not breaking our kiss, I ripped open my jeans and shoved them and my boxers down.

With a growl, I did the same to her, dragging her jeans and panties down and ripping them right off her ankles. She gasped into my mouth and I grabbed her thigh, using it to angle her, a second before I thrust inside her.

Her mouth ripped from mine as she screamed out and threw her head back.

“Fuck,” I grunted as her sweet cunt strangled the hell out of my cock.

Her nails dug into my shoulders as I pounded into her like a fucking madman, completely losing myself in her, in us, driving harder and harder, more erratic, erotic violence taking me over and leading the way. I couldn’t get deep enough, couldn’t get close enough.

“Shit, Bastian!” she cried out in rapture, bucking her hips as she tried to meet my crazed, punishing thrusts that were rocking the car from the sheer force of them.

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