Page 51 of Hateful Union

I grind down against his finger, whimpering, groaning, and mewling as his teeth brush against my breasts. “Mal.”

“Ride it,” he growls as he inserts another finger. I whimper as his fingers fuck me.

I plant my feet on the bed, my fingers clenching in the sheets and I ride him. I throw my head back and close my eyes as I grind against him. His mouth is everywhere, kissing, biting, sucking, every inch of my body. It’s sensory overload. “God,” I groan as my pleasure builds.

“I feel it coming. Hold it off,” he instructs and my eyes open and my gaze collides with his. “Do not fucking come,” he clips out.

“But…” I gasp. “How?”

“Fight it,” he grunts as his fingers move quicker.

My body shakes as the orgasm starts to hit me. Instantly his fingers leave my pussy and I whimper at the loss of him.

“Behave,” he tells me, his eyes heavy with need.

“You’re an arsehole, Malcolm.”

The fucker grins at me. “Never said otherwise. I’m not finished playing with you, yet. You do not come unless my dick is inside you.”

I glare at him, hiding the fact that his words make me wetter. Fuck, why is it when he’s an arsehole I find him even more attractive? Even sexier than normal?

“Now, are you going to be my good golden girl?”

Fuck yes I am. “Where did this side of you come from?”

We’ve had two weeks, two sheer, blissful weeks where we’ve spent practically every minute together. Yet, this demanding side to him is new, he hasn’t let this side out to play before and I’m intrigued, even if he is being an arshole and not letting me come.

“No idea, never been this way with anyone but you.”

Oh shit. My eyes sting with tears. It wasn’t hearts and flowers, but it means a hell of a lot. We started out rocky and God, so much hatred, sometimes I feel as though I could kill him, but these past two weeks, I’ve seen another side to him. A softer, gentler side.

“I really need you to fuck me,” I rasp, but it’s filled with so much emotion I know that he can’t miss it.

His body jolts at my words, his brows knit together and then a slow but confident smile plays on his lips.

“You know by now,” he begins, positioning himself over me. “This isn’t fucking, hasn’t been since I got you back.”

He’s right, it isn’t. As much as I’d like to pretend that this thing between us is just sex, it’s far from that and every day the feelings grow. Since the night he followed me here, it’s been anything but fucking. He makes love, God, he makes me feel alive, beautiful, and his.

“I told you that night I got you back, that this is different. I’m not pretending anymore. You’re mine Raylee and nothing or no one is going to change that.”

“I’m yours,” I admit, and his eyes darken with lust as he thrusts into me. “Yes,” I hiss.

His lips crash against mine and I’m swept away as his tongue tangles with mine, leaving me breathless. I wind my arms around his neck, my fingers in his hair and I give in to him, surrender completely. I am his and I know that I’m safe with him.

His thrusts are slow but hard, hitting the right spot each and every time. Once again, my orgasm starts to build, I clench around him, loving the hiss that he releases. His gaze never once leaving mine. There’s no question about it, I’m head over heels for this man.

“Get there, baby,” he growls, his pace picking up and I throw my head back and mewl as his lips go to my neck where he sucks on my sweet spot, just at my pulse. It takes two more powerful thrusts before I’m detonating around him. “God, I love how you flood my dick when you come. Your pussy squeezes me like it’s pulling the cum from it.” I’m too lost in my own pleasure to register him thrust into me, shove his face into my neck, and come.

Once he pulls out of me, he rolls onto his back and pulls me with him, so that I’m draped over his body. His hand splayed across my back and he’s looking directly at me.

“I’m a fucking lucky man, Raylee, waking up to you every morning. There’s nothing better.”

He has to stop. God. He’s killing me right now. “You’re going to make me cry,” I warn him.

These past two weeks have changed everything. Before he was aloof and kept me at arm’s length. Now? Well now he’s open and honest with how he feels and what he wants. He’s not pushed me for more, I told him that I needed to think about us and what I wanted from it. I’m worried about what my family will say and how they’ll react. In the past two weeks I haven’t seen them. I’ve spoken to them on the phone, mainly my mum and Bentley, but I haven’t seen them. That changes today. Today, I’m having dinner with them.

Malcolm isn’t stupid, he can read me better than even I can and knows that I want him, he knows that I’m scared, but he’s made it clear he’s not giving up. He’s trying to make amends for what’s happened and I know, deep down I know that what happened with Mayer was tragic and yet Malcom was right; if we stepped in, things could have been worse, I could have also lost Gabby.

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