Page 58 of Resist Me

He pulled back with wide eyes. “I hate you.”

I shook my head and slammed my mouth against his. Putting my hands on his chest, I pushed him backward until he hit the wall. He grunted but didn’t protest. Locking my hand around his throat with a tighter grip than he’d used, I held him in place as I nudged his lips apart.

“I don’t accept your hate,” I murmured before I explored his mouth with my tongue.

He met my intrusion, trying to take control, but I refused to yield to him. He’d been a pain in my ass for too long and I wanted him to bend, to drop whatever conventions of disdain he’d been trying to hold onto. I was ready to completely obliterate my own. Maybe I already had.

“Are you drunk?” I asked.

“Not at all, unfortunately.”

Wrapping an arm around him, I backed up toward the bed. I pushed him down and climbed over him. If he was sober and wasn’t running away, I wasn’t going to question it right now.

He tried to sit up, but I tightened my grip on his throat and held him down. Our eyes met, the defiance evident in his. There was lust there too, though. We stared at each other for long moments. I wasn’t sure what either of us was looking for.

Suddenly, he flung my beanie off my head and thrust his fingers through my hair. I let him explore, taking in the curiosity and wonder on his face. It was obvious that he was nervous, but this was West. He wasn’t going to back down if he was into this.

When his hands moved underneath my shirt, I pulled it over my head. His lips parted as he stared at me. I groaned as he felt up my abdomen. His touch wasn’t careful or light. He touched me like he really wanted to feel every part of me down to my bones.

“What’s going through your head right now?” I asked.

He met my eyes briefly before he returned his attention to my chest. His cheeks had reddened and his skin was too pale to hide it.

“Don’t ask me that.”

“I have to.”

“You said I wasn’t your type.”

I breathed a laugh. Grabbing his hands, I pinned them to the bed and moved backward. I kissed the column of his throat and he lifted his chin to give me more access.

“Depends on the day,” I said against his neck. “Physically, you might be a masterpiece, but that’s only part of it.”

“So, you might hate me again tomorrow.” The breathiness of his voice made my cock strain more against my jeans.

Pushing his shirt up, I trailed my lips down his abs. “I never hated you. I was annoyed by you. Still am, if I’m being honest.”

“Hate fucking is valid.”

“Oh, you wanna fuck?” I teased, but I really wanted to know what he was looking for here. “I thought this was just a steamy make out session.”

He didn’t say anything, so I grazed his pelvic bone with my teeth, making him hiss. I looked up at him and found him already watching me. My tongue darted out to trace his abs. His hips rose enough for me to feel his hard cock against my chest.

“This doesn’t feel like hate,” I noted.

“Better get more aggressive, then. We’re not doing any cutesy shit.”

“Say less.”

I popped open the button on his jeans and yanked them down. He swore, dropping his head back when I palmed his cock through his briefs. It was thick enough that I couldn’t wait any longer to undress him the rest of the way so that I could see all of him. He sat up and pulled off his shirt, leaving him completely naked beneath me.

He propped his head up with an arm behind his neck and raised a brow. “So, you just gonna hop on or what?”

“Me?” I laughed. “No.”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re the experienced one here.”

“Exactly. That makes me the expert.”

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