Page 117 of ILY
Okay, well, that’s fucking rude. He followed me into my house and is giving me the bird. If he hates me this much, he shouldn’t have come.
I flip him off too.
His hand falls to his side, and then he shoves at me.
My back hits the fridge, and I feel my eye twitch. I’m not prone to violence, but fuck him. Really.
Fuck. Him.
‘You need to drink water,’ I tell him, or at least try to. I need him to sober up and stop shoving me around.
He stares at my face and hands and smirks. Then his hands are flying, saying something I don’t understand. But it doesn’t look nice.
I know it’s not nice.
Following me home and insulting me. Flipping me off. Making me flip him off back?
Screw. Him. I’ve been nothing but nice to this guy, and he’s always being a dick.
My mind spins as I grab my water bottle and uncap it, moving toward him. His hands fall to his sides as I shove him into the pantry door. It rattles on its hinges, and as his back meets the wood, I hear a small wheeze exit his throat. My cock, which was half-hard at being near him, moves to full mast.
I like that sound.
My body presses into his, and I signwateronce more.
He scowls, so I reach up and grab onto his chin and cheeks, pouring some into his mouth and forcing him to swallow it.
His eyes widen, and I do it again, watching as half a mouthful dribbles down his already wet shirt.
His Adam’s apple bobs against my palm, and I can’t help but imagine what that throat would feel like surrounding my cock. It’s a thought I’ve had more than once.
A thought I’ve tried not to think.
He gurgles slightly and then shoves at me. I shove him back, pouring water into my mouth, letting it dribble out before leaning forward and forcing him to take it. He gasps and then moans as it falls into his mouth, our lips touching as I let mine slide across his.
And then all hell breaks loose.
He shoves at me, and I fall back, the bottle slipping from my hand and onto the floor, puddling under our feet.
Coming into my house, being an ass, and making a mess? Normally, it wouldn’t bother me. I’m an easygoing guy, but the way he felt against me, the way he keeps looking at me like he wants to murder me, is almost too much.
My palms land on his chest once more and push before I grab onto his wrists, wrenching them up over his head.
His mouth parts, and I can’t help myself. I can’t stop it.
I slam my mouth onto his, grinding my hips against his. I feel his hard length pressed up against mine, and I push against it harder.
He moans as I tilt my mouth over his and shove my tongue into his mouth.
He bites down on it, but I don’t stand down. I hold on to him harder until he starts to kiss me back, our teeth grazing as our tongues war with each other, each of us trying to win. But we both know who’s going to come out on top.
Me. Mother-fucking-me.
And with the way he’s letting himself be held down, I know this is true.
My hand moves from his throat, dragging down his chest to the space between us. My palm slides down his cock, and he bucks his hips forward. His lips are wrenched from mine, spit-slick and swollen.
I want those wrapped around my cock.
