Page 128 of Hate To Love You

His fingers dig into my hips, holding me in place as he pounds into me with fierce possession. I meet his thrusts, my nails raking his back as I climb higher.

How did I go so long without this?

“Such a good girl. You take my cock so well,” Ryker hisses through gritted teeth.

Ryker's body glistens with sweat, his muscles working as he thrusts deep, hitting the spot that drives me wild. My head falls back, and I let out a loud moan as another orgasm builds at the base of my spine.

“Come for me, baby girl,” he growls, his voice hoarse with need. “Let me feel your greedy pussy tighten around my cock.”

His demanding words send me spiraling over the edge once more. Crying out, my body convulses around him as pleasure overtakes me.

“Atta girl. Fuck, Rebel,” Ryker groans.

With a few more powerful thrusts, Ryker stills inside me, and I can feel his dick pulsating as his body shudders with the force of his climax.

Collapsing onto me, he buries his face in my neck, his breath warm against my sweaty skin. My fingers stroke his hair as we let our heart rates slow. Ryker lifts his head, his eyes searching mine.

“Believe me now, Guinevere?” he asks, his voice soft but intense. Do I? Does this change anything? Can I trust him?

As he lay naked on top of me after fucking me and filling me with his come, I look into his green eyes, the black ring around them making them pop. I do. I do believe him.

That might make me stupid or naïve or whatever, but I believe that he loves me. I believe that everything Amy said was a lie. I believe that he would never purposely do anything to hurt me.

Reaching up, I push a few pieces of hair away from his face, keeping my hands on either side of his face as I look him in the eye. “I believe you.”

Ryker's thumb brushes my swollen lower lip, his eyes moving from my lips to my eyes, a small grin forming on his lips. “Good.”

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When I left Ryker’s last night, I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. When I got there, I was not expecting that we’d sleep together. In fact, I was planning on leaving there in tears, then sitting in my living room with a tub of ice cream as I sobbed while watching The Notebook because I love to torture myself.

He told me loves me. Ryker Steele loves me. If anyone would have told me that I, Guinevere Sharpe, would be in love with Ryker Steele and he in love with me when we first met, I would have laughed in their face. Like a full-on cackle.

There is no universe where I could have seen this happening. No psychic could have predicted it. It’s truly one of those ‘expect the unexpected’ moments.

Campus is cold this morning, with the January weather in full swing. January is the worst month because it snows the most between now and the end February. You would think that the snowiest month would be December, but not in Connecticut.

The parking lot closest to Mallory Center was full, so I had to park at Whittaker Hall which is the furthest away from Mallory. It’s like negative ten degrees out, okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration. But it feels like it.

It should be a crime to have to walk around campus at this time of year. Trudging through the snow and cold is not something I enjoy doing, and if my mom didn’t live in Rhode Island, I’d probably be moving somewhere warmer after graduation.

I wonder what Ryker will want to do after graduation. Will he want to stay in Connecticut or Rhode Island? Will he want to move somewhere completely different? Will he want me to come with him? I guess we have some things to talk about.

After what feels like eight years, I finally make it to Mallory and head upstairs to Professor Whitely’s office. I still haven’t been able to figure out what she’d want from me.

As I shake myself off and stomp my boots on the ground to get rid of the snow, I turn the corner to my old professor’s office and bump into something hard. Looking down at the combat boots in front of me, my stomach flutters, knowing exactly who it is.

When I look up, I’m met with intense green eyes and a sexy smolder. My stupid heart skips a beat at the sight of him. Gorgeous and sexy as sin, as always.

“You make a habit of running into people?” Ryker asks, his lips twitching into a grin.

I set my hands on my hips. “Do you make a habit of standing in the middle of walkways?” I snap back, remembering having this exact conversation all those months ago.

“What are you doing here?” he questions, his eyes narrowing and his head tilting slightly to the side making his dark hair fall into his face. He brushes it back with his hand, and I imagine having that very hand wrapped around my neck as he pounds into me.

“I, um…” damnit, Gwen. Get a freaking grip. “Professor Whitely… she wanted to see me,” I stutter like the dumbass I am.

I internally scold myself for being so blatantly obvious as Ryker’s lips turn into a knowing smirk. “Why are you here?”

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