Page 32 of The War Revision
“Fuck, Kaiden.”
The daze of my orgasm fades away, and I slump on the table, barely registering the wet spot of jizz under my belly.
“Fuck. I’m sorry.” Cole sounds faraway. But when I turn my head, he’s only taken a step back. His fingers pull out leaving me achingly empty. “I’m negative. I…”
He nervously runs a hand though his strands, looking all worried. His eyes are on my ass with so much shock in them.
Yep, Devil, you lost control and filled me with your juices. I want to tell him, but something stops me.
Instead, I look at him, paying attention to the different shades of blond in his hair, the thin lines near his eyes and on his forehead, the long shape of his nose, the generous curves of his lower lip.
Embracing my all-sated-and-shit feeling, I say. “Hey, it’s okay. I know you’d never put me at risk.” Because I trust him. Well, fuck. The realization surely pulls me out of my afterglow—mixed with the annoying fact that he didn’t fuck me. He stuffed me with his cum, which is still dripping down my thighs, but no dicking. The annoyance spreads faster inside of me.
I pull myself up and turn to face him, when his phone starts ringing. Damn it to hell.
Without sparing me a glance, he grabs his pants from the floor and yanks his cell out. He answers, giving me his back like he’s dismissing me…again!
“Yes.” He listens for a few seconds. The peach fuzz covering his butt is so fucking sexy, it vexes me even more.
“I am. I gave you my answer already. I thought I’ve been clear.”
Feeling uncomfortable on top of ticked off, I move to the sofa and start putting my clothes on.
“Yes, it is. Well, I’m sorry to hear that.” Cole sighs tiredly, after lowering the phone to his side.
“Are you okay?” I ask him, when what I should do is leaving the confusing prick.
“Why shouldn’t I be?” It sounds like he dipped his words in undiluted sarcasm. “It looks like a tornado hit my rat-infested apartment. I almost fucked you on my dinner table. And…” a deep angry growl cuts his rambling off. His hand tighten around his phone.
He’s looking at me like I’m the reason for all his problems. Like he can’t fucking stand me. I know that look well—my mother used to throw it my way every chance she got. And just as I did back then, I go in for the attack. “Why would fucking me be so bad? Huh? What other excuse are you going to find now?”
“Excuse?” he uses his damn superior tone. “I don’t need any excuse.”
He’s fucking playing with me. He doesn’t want to fuck me. Or maybe he does but not that much—not the desperate, pathetic way I do. It’s the only explanation I can come up with at the moment. The realization stings so damn bad. No, it fucking hurts. He’s standing there, naked. All pale skin and defines muscles. And all I can think about is jumping on him and riding him like a stud.
While he looks at me with so much coldness.
Fuck this. Fuck rejection. And fuck Cole Devenport. “Hope you had your fun. I’m going to have mine now,” I tell him, moving for the door.
“What the fuck does that mean?” The menace in his voice makes me shiver.
“It means that you can’t satisfy me.” Liar! Such a huge fat liar. I’ve never been more satisfied in my life. But I keep going, trying to hit his ego, the only part of him I can hurt. “I want a cock up my ass. And I’m going to find it elsewhere.”
His jaw ticks, but apart from that, he looks unfazed. Like he doesn’t care if our…fooling around ends.
“You know what that means,” he says dryly, confirming it.
“God, you are so fucking uptight. Controlling. Annoying. Unfeeling prick!” I spit out. “Why won’t you fuck me? I thought that was what you enjoyed.”
“I don’t like to be forced. And I sure as hell don’t need to give any explanation to the guy I’m just fooling around with,” he yells at me.
His words penetrate the cloud of anger and they punch me right in the guts.Fooling around. That label already felt wrong in my head a few seconds ago, but hearing it from him makes me want to puke. And I for’t fucking know why.
That is what we’ve been doing. The extra times we spent together were nothing but an after-orgasm stretch.
The bile inside my throat keeps climbing, but I grit my teeth and push it down, deep. I try to push a smirk on my lips, but I feel them only slightly tilt. The effort is killing me, but I’ll die before showing him how affected I am. I’m such an idiot.
“We are finally done then. Great,” I’m able to get out in an almost steady voice. “I have somewhere fun to go, you pompous dick!”
