Page 73 of Frenemies

His words shouldn’t be as hot as they were, especially when he was being a colossal dick, but try telling my pussy that. It clenched excitedly.

“You must have me confused with a girl that likes minute men.”

“If you’re resorting to minute men insults, you must be really mad,” my body shook with his laugh. “Are you gonna insult my size next?”

I mean, I could, but it would be a lie. Chase was anything but small.

A fact my pussy all too eagerly reminded me of—if my feminine parts could’ve jumped off my body and did a happy dance when he kicked open the door to his shitty apartment and tossed me on the bed, then they would’ve. My mind, however, chose the glare and grit my teeth route.

Though, I would admit my steely façade was a little rattled when he reached over his head and tore his shirt off. But in my defense, his tattooed torso was as chiseled as a Greek god. Who wouldn’t stare? I tipped my head, pulling my eyes along his hard ridges to his fingers, unbuckling his belt. That’s when my mind snapped back.

“What part of you’re never touching me again didn’t you get?”

“You have two choices here, Princess.” He dropped his pants to the floor and looked me dead in the eyes. “You can take your clothes off, or I will, but if I do it, that dress isn’t going to survive.”

I suppose I should find it considerate that he gave me the option to spare my Prada, but as far as I was concerned, neither option was happening. It didn’t matter how mouth-watering the steel rod pressing against his black boxer briefs was.

Determined to win this, I sat up and said, “Clearly, you’re not getting it. So let me clue you . . .”

Chase was on me in a flash. He pushed me back on the bed, grabbed my legs, and pulled them apart.

“No, let me clue you in.” He buried his face between my thighs and sucked on my clit through my lace thong. “This is my pussy, and I’ll fucking have it whenever I want.”

The only argument he was getting from me were the fists I balled up around his scratchy blanket. And that was only because I couldn’t talk when his tongue started laving over my tender flesh. I forgot how good he was at this.

I didn’t even care when he tore my panties off and grabbed handfuls of my ass. The only thing that mattered was his hot mouth and the nips and sucks that were winding me up tighter and tighter.

Then just when I was about to fly off that blissful edge, he stopped.

I curled my lip down at him as he lifted his head and licked his lips.

“Fuck, that’s good.”

No shit. “Why the hell did you stop?”

Chase crawled over me, wound his fingers in my hair, and growled, “Shut the fuck up, and kiss me.”

Not that I had much of a choice in the matter. He slammed his mouth on mine before I could utter a single word, and I went with it. I missed this.

The heavy feel of his weight on me and the growl that vibrated through his chest when I bit his lip, I missed it all. So much so that when he reached down and freed his cock, I lifted my hips, welcoming him in.

The first thrust stole my breath. The second caused tingles to shoot up my spine, and third tossed me off the cliff into oblivion.

“Chase,” I screamed while raking my nails down his back.

“That’s it, baby,” Chase grunted. “Tell everyone who’s pussy this is.”

He fucked me hard through my orgasm, then again through another, and didn’t slow down until I was coming off the third. I felt the shift in his need before he grabbed my chin and tipped my gaze up.

“Look at me.”

All the air left my lungs when I forced my lids to flutter open. There was no rage sparkling in his eyes or frustration. The only thing I saw in the way he was staring at me was complete and utter adoration.

“I fucked up, and I swear I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. But don’t ever throw that shit with Snake in my face again.”

Because I believed him when he said he’d spend the rest of his life making it up to me, I licked my lips and nodded.

He nipped my chin and gave me a little thrust. “I already want to kill every motherfucker that’s had a taste of my woman.”

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