Page 100 of Spearcrest Knight

Now it’s my turn to sneer at her. “Stop pretending that job was the be-all and end-all of your life, Sutton. You never even gave a shit about that job, I know you were just going there to flirt with that creep.”

Sophie’s face goes red so fast she looks like I’ve just slapped her across both cheeks. Her gaze falters. She takes a single step back, enough to tell me I struck true, enough to confirm all my suspicions.

Enough to make me hurt like shit.

“Freddy’s not a creep,” she says.

Freddy. His name, so common, so stupid, somehow makes him all the more real, like a deformed nightmare monster come to life.

My hatred for him bursts to life like a struck match.

“Hitting on an 18-year-old,” I spit out. “That’s exactly what I would call creepy.”

Her eyes are wide and incredulous as she watches me. For a moment, she’s completely speechless. Then her eyes narrow. She tilts her head, and her voice is soft and deadly when she speaks.

“That’s why you reported me? Because—what? Because you werejealous?”

I swallow hard. My face is hot—my chest is on fire. I’m not even embarrassed—Sophie is saying nothing more than the truth. Iamfucking jealous, so jealous it hurts. And it almost feels good for her to finally acknowledge it, like scratching an unbearable itch I couldn’t reach myself.

I step forward, covering the distance she ceded earlier. I draw closer to her, pulled into the gravitational field of her presence. The smell of her is intoxicating, flooding me with memories of her hot mouth against mine, her pretty pussy against my tongue and around my cock. Desire sears me, scorching my mind, burning away all the things I planned to say.

Instead, words burst out of my mouth, unbidden. “Why would you pick some fucking creep, some complete nobody, when you could haveme?”

It’s not at all what I had intended to say, but I can’t even control the flow of words pouring from my mouth. Her eyes are wide with frank shock. I want so badly to touch her I have to clench my fists to stop myself from reaching for her. She’s so tantalisingly close—she’s always so fucking, so torturously close, and yet always out of reach.

Why? Why can’t I just fucking have her?

“I don’twantyou,” she snarls, answering both my questions, spoken and unspoken. The shock in her eyes fades, replaced by dark, cruel triumph. “Must be hard to swallow, huh? All the money and abs in the world—and Istilldon’t want you.”

I surge forward, finally allowing myself to touch her. Grabbing her by her waist, I pull her against me.

“Liar.” I take her face roughly in my hand, tilt it back. She stares up at me, unafraid. Something wild and burning is in her eyes. Her lips part wetly, as if she’s expecting me to kiss her. “Youdirtyfucking liar.”

Instead of kissing her, I tilt her head back further, exposing her neck, and I sink my teeth into the pale flesh. A rasp tears from her lips and her body arches against mine, sending a bolt of brutal arousal through me. Her fingers curl against my arms, digging into my muscles as she holds on tight to me.Me.

“You fucking want me,” I growl against her neck, pushing her roughly down onto a desk. I grind my hips into hers, my hard cock craving the heat of her. “You can lie until the day you fucking die, but your body doesn’t lie. You want me.”

She makes no reply. Her eyes are hooded as she stares up at me. Leaning on her elbows, she relaxes back against the desk, as though this isboringto her. I wrap my fingers around her throat. I don’t even want to hurt her, I just want her to feel something—anything. “Say it, Sutton.”

Her lips curl with scorn. “I fuckingdespiseyou.”

My cock hardens painfully at her words. I know she does—I’m beginning to suspect her hate for me might be the only reason she has for fucking me.

So I squeeze her neck, and her smile widens. I shove her skirt back. She’s not wearing tights today, just thigh-high black socks, plain as they come, and plain black boxers. But the ribbon of exposed flesh between her boxers and her socks is enough to make me painfully hard.

She doesn’t stop me when I slip my hand inside her boxers, and I quickly find out why. My fingers find the silken folds of her pussy; they are slippery with wetness. Savage triumph flares through me. She might hate me all she likes, but her body can’t lie the way she can.

I roughly pull her boxers off her. I want to fuck her so desperately I can hardly breathe. More than fucking her, I want to claim her, to pleasure her. I want her to know I’m the only one who could ever make her feel this way.

So I slide my fingers against her wet pussy, caressing her until she’s squirming against my hand. I smirk at her. “Do you despise this, too?”

She glares at me as I trace the line of her pussy to where her clit is, rubbing my thumb over the tiny spot. Her hips buck and a tiny gasp of surprise springs from her mouth. She bites down on her lip, but I keep touching her, building a slow, steady rhythm.

Suddenly, she reaches up, covering my face with her hand.

Dark anger and raw pleasure burn through me: she wants to come, but she doesn’t want to look at me. Because Sophie loves lying to herself so much, she probably wants to pretend it’s not me doing this to her.

“No.” I push her hand away and pin her back against the desk with my hand pressed to her chest. She grabs my arm with both hands but she’s not strong enough to push me off. I keep the pressure on even while I caress her clit, my gaze fixed on hers. “You can despise me all you like, Sutton, but you’re going to fuckinglookat me. You’re wet because it’smedoing this to you. You’re going to come becauseI’mthe one touching you. Not some fucking random guy, not some nobody you think you like.Me.”

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