Page 61 of Hate the One You're With
Her concern is real, and it’s enough to make her hesitate, even as her body betrays her with every shiver, every ragged breath. I bring my lips close to her ear, my voice low and reassuring. “Don’t worry, baby. The door’s closed, and he’s got more important things to focus on. But if you’re really that worried . . . you’ll just have to be very, very quiet.”
I press the pen against her more firmly, moving it in slow, deliberate circles, and she bites her lip, her eyes fluttering shut as she tries to stifle the moan threatening to escape. “You can do that for me, can’t you, Em?” I whisper, my breath hot against her skin. “You can keep quiet while I make you come, can’t you?”
She nods, but the tension in her body tells me she’s struggling to keep control, to hold back the sounds of pleasure that I’m coaxing out of her. I keep the pressure steady, my hand moving with just enough force to drive her wild while she fights to stay silent. Her breath comes in short, ragged gasps, her knuckles white as she grips the armrest, and I can see how close she is to losing it.
“You’re so beautiful when you let go,” I murmur, my voice rough with desire. “But if you’re worried about the pilot hearing . . . then you’ll have to work hard to stay quiet. Or maybe . . . maybe you like the idea of him knowing exactlywhat I’m doing to you. You want him to watch us, watch you come for me.”
Her eyes snap open, wide with a mix of fear and arousal, and I see the last of her resistance begin to crumble.
“Does the idea of showing the pilot how good you are to me excite you?” I ask, my voice filled with dark amusement. As I speak, I angle the pen just right, pressing it against her in a way that makes her jolt, a sharp gasp escaping her lips.
“Quiet,” I command. “He’s going to know I’m fucking my good girl. You like that, don’t you? The thought of him hearing how well you take it.”
She bites her lip, trying desperately to hold back the moan that’s building in her throat, but I don’t make it easy for her. I move the pen each movement sending jolts of pleasure through her. The pressure builds, and despite her best efforts, a loud moan slips out.
“Silence,” I order again, my voice low and commanding. “If you want to come, you’re going to have to be silent. Do you understand?”
She nods frantically, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps as she fights to stay quiet. But the pleasure is overwhelming, and I can see her struggling to keep it together, to obey even as her body betrays her.
“Good girl,” I murmur, leaning in to kiss her neck, my lips brushing against her skin as I continue to tease her. “Now tell me what you want.”
“Caleb . . . please . . .” she whispers, her voice trembling as she edges closer to release.
“Say it,” I whisper in her ear, my tone dark and commanding. “Tell me how much you want it, how much you need me, and maybe I’ll let you come.”
She’s trembling, her breath coming in desperate gasps as she teeters on the brink. “I need it, Caleb,” she finally admits, her voice barely audible. “Please . . . let me come.”
I pause, my hand stilling as I lean in close, my lips brushing against her ear. “As long as you promise to let me fuck that dirty mouth of yours. Look at me, I’m fucking hard, aching to be inside you, to feel your lips wrapped around me,” I murmur, my voice thick with desire.
Her breath hitches, her eyes glazing over as she stares at the silhouette of my cock, straining against my jeans, and she nods quickly, desperate for release. “I promise,” she whispers, her voice trembling with need.
“What do you promise?” I press, my tone demanding, relentless. “Say it out loud. Tell me how much you want it, Em. I don’t think you really want to come—or my cock.”
She swallows hard, her eyes flickering with a mix of arousal and defiance. But I can see the way her resolve crumbles, the way her body responds to my words, and I know she’s going to give me exactly what I want.
“I promise to let you fuck my mouth,” she breathes out, her voice low and trembling, dripping with raw need. “I want your cock, Caleb. I want to feel it deep in my throat, making me gag. Please . . . let me come, and then give me every inch of that cock.”
Her words ignite something dark and primal inside me, and I can’t hold back anymore. “Good girl,” I murmur, my voice rough with satisfaction. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear. You’ve earned the right to come, sweet girl.”
With that, I push her over the edge, the pen and my whispered words driving her to a shuddering climax. She tries so hard to stay quiet, to keep from making a sound, but I can feel the effort unraveling her, making it all the more intense.
Her body arches against mine, her hands gripping the seat as she rides out the waves of pleasure. I hold her close, my own body humming with satisfaction as I kiss her neck, her jaw, every inch of skin I can reach.
“You did so well, baby,” I praise, my voice low and filled with pride. “You’ve earned it. And soon . . . you’ll earn my cock.”
Her breathing is still ragged, her body trembling as she comes down from her high, but I can see the way her eyes light up at my words, a mix of anticipation and satisfaction. Gently, I pull her into my lap, cradling her against my chest.
My hands move tenderly over her skin, tracing soothing patterns along her back as I hold her close. “You’re incredible,” I murmur, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. “So perfect. I’ve got you, baby.”
I continue to whisper sweet praises, my fingers brushing through her hair, helping her come down from the intense high. Her body slowly relaxes against mine, her breathing evening out, and I can feel the tension melting away as I take care of her. I stroke her arms, kiss her forehead, and let her bask in the warmth of our closeness.
When I feel her steady beneath me, I capture her lips in a hard, searing kiss, pouring every ounce of my pent-up need into it. The force of it pulls a sound from her, something between a moan and a whimper, and it only drives me further. My hand grips the back of her neck, holding her in place as Ideepen the kiss, my tongue sweeping into her mouth, tasting her, claiming her.
Her fingers dig into my shoulders, clinging to me as I kiss her like I’ve been starving for her—because I have. The way she melts into me, the way she responds so eagerly, fuels the fire inside me, and I can’t help but groan into her mouth, my need for her only intensifying.
She responds with equal fervor, her hands clutching at my shirt, pulling me closer as if she can’t get enough. I can feel her body pressing against mine, her ass moving rhythmically against the hard length of me straining against my jeans. The friction is maddening, her every movement making my arousal almost unbearable, but I won’t give in. Not yet.
Her soft curves grind against me, and I can feel the heat radiating from her, making it even harder to hold back. But I force myself to stay in control, to maintain that last shred of restraint. She’s testing me, pushing me to the brink, but I’m not going to break—not until she stops pretending.
