Page 349 of Hate Mates

Her cries of pain turn into moans of pleasure and I feel myself getting lost in her, but that can’t happen. This can’t fucking happen.

I tear myself away from her. “Flip over, Moth,” I command.

FIVE

Ana

Iobey, flipping over on to my stomach as I try to clear the haze from my mind. Trenton’s big, calloused hands cup my hips, pulling them up until my ass is in the air. And then his palm smacks against it and I have to bite into the covers to hide my moan. The beginning sucked, it hurt so bad, the middle was…oddly nice, but this? Something sick inside me has been craving this.

He thrusts into me from behind and I stretch around him in a delicious ache. His hand tangles in my dark hair and he shoves my head into the sheets before fucking me so hard, I want to scream. Not in pain, but ecstasy.

I always knew deep down I would like it darker, rougher, my internet searches proved that, but I’ve always been so ashamed, but the way he uses my body as if I’m nothing is doing something to me.

Looking at me, you’d never guess this darkness about me. Maybe it’s the abandonment issues that’s made me this way. Nonetheless, I hope he doesn't stop.

“Fuck. You. Little. Moth.” He groans as his other hand reaches down and plays with my clit, sending me right to theedge. I’m so close, I can taste my release and I want it so bad. But he pulls out causing me to whimper. Flipping me over, he pulls me by my ankles to the edge of the bed, his hand wrapped around my neck as he pushes his way back into me.

My hard nipples scrape over his sweaty, delectable chest as our eyes lock. He smirks, twisting my nipple and asking, “Do you want to come?”

I nod eagerly, licking my lips. Trenton’s eyes darken as they roam over my body, making me feel more than ordinary for the first time in my life. His speed picks up with my need, his fingers brushing my clit and I’m so close again. I start making the most desperate sounds as I get closer. My eyes locked with his only heightens it. It’s so cruel and beautiful, he always has been.

As I begin to tip he pulls out again and I whine in frustration. “Trenton, please let me come. Please. Please. Please,” I chant.

“Fuck, Little Moth, how am I supposed to tell you no when you beg so prettily?” He moans, slipping back inside me and tugging on my nipple, which seems to be my kryptonite because I fall apart. And then he follows, and it might be the single hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Trenton completely losing control.

His head is tossed back, his taut body flexing as he releases into me, coating my insides with his cum. The way his eyes flash as he pulls out, how his fingers push and work his cum back inside me, prolonging my release. When he drops to his knees, his mouth on me and lapping our releases up, it feels so amazing I want to come again. I feel needy all over again. Body desperate to have him back inside me.

He leans back, fingers brushing over my swollen heat as he licks his lips. “Tastes like I fucking own you, Little Moth.”

“Why moth?” I ask.

He rises, tossing my clothes at me before answering. “Because you’re so painfully ordinary. And all I’ve ever wanted to do is pluck your wings and watch you struggle to escape me.”

My movements pause and my chest cracks.

“Now get out of my room. I don’t do pillow talk or cuddling.”

I standin front of the mirror the next morning drying my body off. It looks like a war zone of bruises in the shape of Trenton’s fingers. I curse under my breath and finish my morning routine.

By the time I’m dressed and heading out of my room, I expect Trenton to be gone, but he’s not. He’s…waiting for me? I try to get past him, but he grabs my body, pushing me into the hallway wall and boxing me in. I open my mouth to speak but he cuts me off with his lips on mine. My hands slap his chest, only I’m not sure if it’s to push him away or bring him closer.

I’m breathing hard by the time he releases me. “I need you to stay out of my head, Little Moth.” His forehead rests on me. “Fucking, please.”

“As soon as you get out of mine.”

He smirks, tugging my hand with his. “You’re coming with me today.”

My legs trip as I try to keep up with his long strides. “But we have school.”

“Not today.”

Trenton’s carstops outside an abandoned warehouse a few hours away from town. I watch as he pulls an old, folded paper from his wallet.

“What is that?” I ask, leaning over closer when he unfolds it. I see a list of names but the one in bold underline holds my attention.

“It’s my list.” He’s quiet for a moment. “Did I ever tell you why I ended up in the orphanage?”

“No,” I say softly.

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