Page 57 of What If I Hate You
"Yes," I admit, past the point of pride or pretense. He makes me feel primal. "All for you."
His finger hooks the edge of my underwear, sliding it to the side with agonizing slowness. I can't breathe, can't think. I can only feel as he runs one thick finger through my arousal, exploring every inch of me.
"Fuck," he groans, his forehead pressing against mine. "You're soaked."
When his finger finally circles my clit, I cry out, my whole body trembles at the contact. He watches my face intently as he touches me, learning what makes me gasp, what makes me moan, what makes me dig my nails into his shoulders enough to leave marks.
"More," I demand, my voice unrecognizable to my own ears. "I need more."
Something shifts in his eyes, a predatory gleam that sends a thrill through me. Without warning, he lifts me and flips our positions, laying me back on the cold kitchen tile. The change in position sends a rush of adrenaline through me as my back hits the floor. Barrett looms above me, his massive frame caging me in, and the look in his eyes is nothing short of feral. Gone is the careful, gentle man from moments ago, now replaced by something primal and hungry.
"I've been thinking about tasting you since that night in the hallway," he growls, yanking my underwear down my legs in one swift motion. Before I can respond, he's spreading my thighs wide and positioning himself between them.
The first swipe of his tongue against my core nearly sends me off the floor. "Fuck!" I cry out, my back arching as pleasure rockets through me.
He devours me like a starving man, his strong hands pinning my hips to the tile as I writhe beneath him. His tongue explores every inch of me, lapping at my pussy with the precision of a man who knows exactly what he's doing. His tongue flattens against my clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to make my thighs tremble. When he sucks the sensitive bundle of nerves between his lips, I nearly scream, my hands flying to his hair and gripping tight.
"Bear, oh my God," I gasp, my hips bucking against his mouth.
He groans against me, the vibration sending shockwaves through my body. I feel him smile against my center, clearly pleased with my reaction. His tongue circles my entrance before pushing inside, and I'm lost, completely at his mercy. He alternates between fucking me with his tongue and sucking on my clit until I'm a writhing, begging mess on his kitchen floor.
"Please," I whimper, not even sure what I'm begging for. “Bear, Please!”
He rises up, his muscled body glistening with sweat. “Tell me what you need, sweetheart.”
“I need you to fuck me, Cunningham,” I demand, bringing back my professional tone for good measure. “Are you up for the job or not?”
He responds with an outward laugh and a carnal smirk. "I know exactly what you need. I need it too.” He kisses me deeply and then tugs on my bottom lip with his teeth. “I was just waiting for you to beg,” he growls, his voice so deep it reverberates through my core.
I fumble with his belt, fingers trembling with urgency, and he helps me, shoving his jeans and boxers down his hips.
When he springs free, I can't help but stare. He's magnificent. Thick and hard and so much more than I imagined in my most private fantasies. My mouth goes dry at the sight of him, and any lingering thoughts of professionalism or propriety evaporate instantly.
"Now," I demand, reaching for him. "I need you now."
Something wild flashes in his eyes and then he reaches for his pants, pulls out his wallet, and extracts a condom.
"Always prepared?" I ask, breathless and aching.
"Hopeful," he corrects. “I put it there after that night in the arena.”
He starts to tear open the packet but I grab his wrist. "I'm on birth control. And I'm clean. I got tested after my last relationship.”
His eyes darken as he stares back at me. “Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure. I promise I’m clean. Do you need me to log in to my medical records?”
He laughs and shakes his head, holding up the condom. “No silly, I meant are you sure you don’t want me to use this?”
“Are you clean too?”
"Yes," he says immediately. "Tested all the time whether I like it or not. I’m clean.”
“Then throw that thing away and fuck me like you mean it, Bear.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
BARRETT
