“Shh.” I slid a finger to his lip, kissing around it, running my tongue over the seam of his lips.
I didn’t want to hear how he hated me.
I only wanted to feelthis. His body, hard and strong beneath mine. The way his hands mapped my curves, encouraging me to rock above him.
I ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back off his face and staring into his eyes as I rocked faster, harder. Letting him hit just the right spot over and over.
“It feels so good,” I murmured between kisses.
“Not as good as it’ll feel when you’re riding my dick,” he ground out.
“Oh God…God,” I cried, burying my face in his shoulder as intense waves of pleasure began to rise inside me.
But Zane stopped abruptly, his hand on my hip forcing me to stop too.
“W-what—”
He pushed his hand into my pants and underwear, sliding two fingers into me without warning. “Use me to get off,” he said, his voice a cracked demand.
I leaned in to kiss him, but he held back, curling his fingers deep inside me as I rode his hand, chasing the ebbing waves once again.
“More,” I cried. “I need more.”
Zane smirked, rolling his thumb over my clit. “If everyone could see you now. Letting me finger fuck you in your fancy car. Bet Daddy Rowe would be so proud of his little princess.”
I stilled, his words landing like a blow to the stomach. “What did you say?”
“You heard me, Einstein.” Zane sneered, his fingers still moving inside me.
“Z-Zane, stop. I-I…” His thumb pressed harder, and I sucked in a shaky breath.
“Feels good, doesn’t it? Slumming it with the bad boy.” He leaned in, running his nose along my jaw to kiss the corner of my mouth.
“Please…”
I didn’t know what I was begging for. For him to stop or for him to finish. But he didn’t let up, working me with his fingers until I was a boneless, breathless mess above him.
“Jack me off,” he ordered, guiding one of my hands to his zipper. Together, we lowered it and took out his thick erection.
I wrapped my fingers around him and started pumping up and down. Zane sank back against the chair with a low groan. “Yeah,” he drawled, “just like that.”
It was hard to concentrate. My senses unraveling with every stroke of his fingers. But I tried to maintain focus. To make it as good for him as it was for me.
Because by God, it felt good. Even when he was spewing hateful, spiteful words at me, my body wanted more. Demanded it.
“Shit, babe. That feels… fuck,” he choked out when I twisted my hand on the upstroke, sliding my thumb over the tip. “Fuck.”
He wasn’t the only one with the power—I had some too.
I had the power to makehimlose control.
“Again,” he murmured, both of us chasing our releases. Racing toward the finish line.
I got there first, crying his name as my thighs tightened around his hand. But he was right behind me, coming all over my hand and sweater with a rumbling groan.
We stared at each other, trying to catch our breath, and I couldn’t stop the faint smile tracing my lips. “That was a—”
“Fuck, I even hate how prettily you come.” He spat the words, cutting me off, and driving a knife right through my heart. “But you make it so easy.”