Page 42 of Sacrifice
She arches against me, nails digging into my shoulders.
Her skin tastes like smoke and perfume and something uniquely Saga.
"Still hate me?" I ask, moving to her other breast.
"Yes," she hisses, but she's fumbling with my belt. "So fucking much."
"Good. Hate makes it better." I help her with my jeans, shoving them down enough to free my cock. "Lift up."
She does, letting me peel her shorts and panties off in one motion.
And fuck, she's soaked.
I run my fingers through her wetness, making her whimper.
"Look how wet you are," I murmur, bringing my fingers to my mouth to taste. "All this from a man you hate?"
"Shut up and fuck me."
"Ask nicely."
"Emil, I swear to God?—"
I slide two fingers into her, cutting off her threat.
She's tight, hot, perfect. I work her with my hand, thumb on her clit, watching her fall apart.
"That's it," I encourage. "Let me see you come. Show me how much you don't want this."
"I hate you," she moans, but she's riding my hand, chasing her release. "I hate you so fucking much."
"I know, baby. Come for me anyway."
Her response is immediate and overwhelming.
I watch her face as pleasure builds, the way she bites her lip trying to stay quiet, the way her eyes flutter closed, then snap open to meet mine.
"That's it," I encourage, my voice rough. "Stop fighting it. Stop pretending you don't want this."
"I hate you so fucking much," she gasps, but her body tells a different story.
She's moving against me, chasing what we both know she needs. "I hate that you make me feel like this."
"I know, kitten, I know." I keep my rhythm steady, watching her unravel. "Hate me all you want. But let go. Just this once, stop fighting and let go."
She's close, I can tell by the way her breathing changes, the way her nails dig into my shoulders. But she's still holding back, still trying to maintain some control.
"Saga," I murmur against her ear. "I've got you. Let me see you fall apart."
That breaks her last defense.
She comes with my name on her lips, a confession and a curse all at once.
I hold her through it, memorizing every second, every sound.
"Still hate me?" I ask when she can breathe again.
"More than ever," she says, but there's no venom in it now.
