Page 39 of Done with You

Heat bloomed from her core, and her body quivered with need.

Bending at the knees, he leaned forward and cupped both breasts roughly, squeezing and kneading as he brought his mouth to one nipple while the thumb and forefinger of his hand tugged and tweaked the other puckered bud. A sigh slipped from her, followed by an unrestrained groan.

He switched sides, ravaging the other nipple with his mouth, scraping his teeth across it and sucking it to almost the back of his tongue until she gasped from the pain, then moaned loudly from the warm blossom of pleasure that quickly followed.

Rising back up to his full height, his eyes hooded, he caught her gaze.

Her breath snagged harshly in her throat, and she tried to swallow.

He smirked in a smug way that normally would have made her temper flare, but at the moment, it just turned her on even more. The glint in his eyes turned wily. Nothing about the way he looked at her said, “I’m done with you.” Not at all. And certainly not when his hands were working down the waistband of her pajama pants. Everything about him, the way he moved, looked at her, and touched her — said, “I’m nowhere near done with you.”

Without really even thinking, she lifted her hips so he could drag her underwear and pants down to her ankles, then he yanked them off fully and tossed them to join her tank top. They were both naked now.

Only, she was sitting with her bare ass on her sister’s granite counter.

And she didn’t care.

His teeth raked across her clavicle and up her jaw, the sharpness of them almost breaking the skin, causing goose flesh to rise on her arms and legs in excitement, and her breath to rush from her lungs. He nipped her jaw, sending a wave of heat to race down her body. A jolt of awareness directly to her clit.

“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.

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