Hate Me or Love Me - Ella Miles Page 0,54

talk marriage later.

I move up and down as his hands grasp on to my hips and ass, moving me harder.

“I love you, Victoria,” he says as he fucks me harder.

I stare into his eyes, trying to remember this moment forever, as he fucks me harder and harder. Because, no matter what our future holds, this is a beautiful, unplanned moment that we can never repeat. We aren’t just fucking. We are changing our future together. No matter if I say yes or no, this moment, right now, will remain with me forever.

“I love you,” I say in a whimper as he brings me close to the brink.

“Come, Victoria.”

I don’t want to come. I want this moment to last forever.

But forevers don’t last. Forevers are not infinite. Forevers are only as long as we pretend that our problems don’t really exist.

“Come, Victoria. Marry me. Be mine forever.”

I dig my nails into his back. I bite my lip. And then I come, pulsing hard around his thick cock, as I let out, “Yes, Carter. Yes.”

14

Carter

She said yes. Of course, she said yes while my cock was deep inside her as she was coming, but it still counts. And, now, she’s passed out against my chest, still almost completely naked.

I don’t want to wake her—ever. I want her here, in my arms, forever. Especially if she’s naked.

But the driver is going to stop soon, and we need to get dressed.

I lean down and softly kiss her on the forehead. “Victoria, you need to wake up.”

She moans and wraps her arms tighter around me in the cutest way possible.

My lips hover over her ear. “If you wake up, we might have time to fuck again before we get there.”

Her eyes shoot open.

I grin.

“You’re lying,” she says, hitting my chest.

“Yes, sorry. You need to get dressed. We will be stopping soon.”

“What am I supposed to wear? You ripped my dress, remember?” she says, yawning and stretching.

I point to a bag sitting on the floor toward the front. “I brought a couple of your other dresses for you to change into.”

“You knew you were going to rip my dress off me?”

I shrug. “I hoped. It was so fun the first time.”

She gets off my lap and grabs the bag. She begins digging through it to find another dress to put on. “You are going to owe me, like, a million dresses by the end of this, aren’t you?”

I kiss her on the lips. “More than a million. And there is no end of this.”

She nods. “You’re right. We should be optimistic.”

She pulls out a white dress that I was hoping she would choose and begins putting it on. She looks gorgeous in white, and if I can find some sort of wedding chapel, maybe I can convince her to elope tonight and not wait any longer.

Now that she’s said yes, I don’t want to wait. I’m a man who knows what he wants and doesn’t doubt himself. I know I want Victoria. Forever. And forever needs to start as soon as possible. Tonight, if I get my way.

She pulls a dark blue shirt out of the bag and tosses it to me. We both get dressed while the limo continues driving to our destination.

Victoria runs her hands through her hair. “I look like I was just fucked.”

“And is that a problem?”

“It is if anyone sees us together and puts two and two together.”

“Let’s not worry about Lily or any of our other problems tonight. Let’s just enjoy tonight.”

“Fine, but I still look like a mess.”

“A hot mess.”

The car stops, and Victoria immediately goes to the window, trying to look outside.

I grab her hand and pull her back to me. “No peeking.”

She pouts. “Well then, show me where we are.”

The driver opens the door, and I get out before I hold out my hand to help her out.

Her eyes immediately dart around. “Um…you brought me to a neighborhood? I thought we were going on a usual date, like dinner and movie or something.”

I tighten my grip on her hand. “What fun would that be?”

“The normal amount of fun,” she teases as I lead her up the stairs to the house.

“Please tell me we aren’t meeting your long-lost parents or something. I’m not ready for that.”

I laugh. “Nope. I met them years ago. They were horrible people. Not quite as horrible as my foster parents, but still pretty bad.”

“I’m sorry,” she says, stopping, her brows furrowed in a look of genuine concern.

I stroke her cheek. “Don’t be. I’m

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