Page 28 of Hate Game

He yanks, and my head snaps back. A large hand circles my neck from the front. Thick fingers cup my jaw. He guides my face to his and looks me in the eye before dropping his gaze to my mouth.

We want the same thing. I swallow my moan. Will he open-mouth kiss me after he nibbles on my bottom lip or after he licks the corners of my mouth?

In the weeks leading up to our first time, Malice and I pretended we weren’t interested in each other. In private, though, and every chance we had to be alone, we kissed and made out. He became possessive of me, saying I was his and he was mine. I would say back, “I am yours, and you are mine,” liking the jealousy in his voice when he spoke of me spending too much time with Red.

I should’ve known Malice would always choose his family over being with a girl whose mother abandoned and regretted having her. Shoving thoughts of family and regret aside, I concentrate on what’s in front of me: the chance to experience Malice’s hands and mouth on me again.

“Hurry,” I beg.

“What?” Disbelief in his voice, followed by a throaty chuckle.

“I said hurry.”

“Impatient little thing, aren’t you?” His smile curves against my cheek.

Who talks like that? Whomever the hell does, he is turning me on.

With his fingers tangled in my hair, he guides my head forward. I stare at the ground. He sweeps the strands to the side and kisses behind my ear and along my nape. Where his lips brush, I memorize their softness to revisit later when I’m in bed, touching myself until I come.

He flicks his tongue on my skin and sucks and licks until I can’t stand it anymore.

“Please.” My insides are coiled tight. My sex aches. I need relief. Relief is Malice’s touches and kisses.

He runs his fingers through my hair and skims his knuckles along the side of my face. In the moonlight, we lock gazes. I’m sure my expression is as heated as his is.

“Straddle me.” Low. Throaty.

I straddle him and tip my face to his. Large palms cradle my hips. Malice lowers his head and grazes his mouth over one corner of my mouth, and then the other.

His touch is hot on my cool skin. I close my eyes and bite down on my bottom lip. A hint to nibble them first and then kiss me. Or would he rather go for it? I tip my face closer to his.

“I’m ready.”

I have been dreaming of this moment. Dreaming and imagining Malice’s lips on mine. His mouth is unforgiving in a love-it-or-leave-it kind of way, but he is the most gentle, passionate kisser once he warms up to a kiss.

I wait. And wait. Wait more. Finally, I can’t stand it. I open my eyes. He tsks. “No kissing on the lips, Rue. That’s my one rule.”

I blink. What did he do with Cassie then? “Does this rule apply to other girls?”

“Just you.”

Just you.

It’s only me he doesn’t want as something more.

How do you see me?

A good-for-nothing tease, Regret.

My world rights itself back to Malice not seeing me for me. I will never be pretty or smart enough, the top spot belonging to my sister and now to his newest interest, Cassie.

I shake off his hold and stare at his chest. My hair envelops my face, hiding my hurt from him.

Two words pour from my mouth.

“I see.”When will he see me for me?

I scramble off his lap, grab the NVGs off the ground, and get to my feet. I barge past Malice and make my way out of the tall grass and onto the dirt path.

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