Something Like Hate - Harloe Rae Page 0,75

lip. “I do really like your view.”

“That sounds promising.” I have enough sense left to grab protection, stalking toward her with a solitary mission.

A hum escapes her when I eliminate the space between us. “I’m taking advantage of your schmoozing, remember?”

“And I’m committed to delivering the best.” I lift Vannah’s dress, grip the seam at her pussy, and rip a hole more than big enough for me to fit.

Her reflection pins me with a glare. “I liked these stockings.”

“Feel free to wear them around me whenever you’d like.” The clank from my belt fills the thrumming silence. After tearing the foil and wrapping up, I grab her hips in a firm hold. She squirms against me, her thighs rubbing together, seeking the friction I’ll provide momentarily.

“Crotchless isn’t my style.”

That reminds me. With a single yank, I rip her thong out of my way. “You won’t be needing that.”

I’m balls-deep in the next breath before she can spew a retort. A hitch in her exhale announces my arrival at the hilt. “Fuck, you’re too big for that.”

“Doesn’t stop you from letting me in.” I slide out until just my tip kisses her hole, only to drive straight in with equal force.

Vannah’s hands slap on the glass and she bends forward. “Shit, that’s too good.”

“Were you craving this dick?” I pound hard enough to lift her heels from the floor. “Missing me when you woke up empty and alone?”

Her head bobbles with my erratic thrusts. “Uh-huh, I wanted this for breakfast.”

“Is that why you wore this outfit?” I tug at the bunched fabric.

“Yes.” She squeals when I punch deep. “You seem to have a thing for me in skirts.”

“Mostly for hiking them around these luscious hips.” I grip onto her harder for emphasis, doubling the speed of my strokes.

“Oh, yes… there. More. Faster.” Vannah spreads her legs, granting me wider access. “I hate giving you compliments, but you’re very talented at this.”

The fact that she’s still able to speak in full sentences means I’m not doing her praise justice. I move a hand to her shoulder for more leverage, slamming forward with enough momentum that she falters. An erratic rhythm starts from there. She’s chanting nonsense within seconds. It’s depraved and animalistic, but my restraint is nonexistent when it comes to this woman. She has me reckless more often than not.

I wrap an arm around her waist, seeking the little button that will detonate her orgasm. She thrashes against me when I rub at her clit with furious spirals. My balls tighten with a pulsing throb. Tingles gather a moment later, just as she clamps around me with her release. We tumble off the cliff together, jerky twitches and disjointed jabs stealing our mobility.

An idea takes root, spreading its poison until I’m blinded by the notion. I’m still hard inside her when my raspy demand flutters the loose hairs sticking to her nape. “Marry me.”

Vannah goes stiff in my arms, and I immediately regret giving voice to the toxicity in my blood. “Did I hear you right?”

“No.” My denial is met with stone silence.

I pull out and turn away, storming to the trash can to dispose of this mistake. The space is necessary to sort through the dumpster fire in my head. As if on cue, a sharp ache pierces my temples. The words slipped out without conscious thought, but I meant them all the same. She could be the solution I didn’t realize was even an option.

Once I’ve sealed the cracks in my composure, I face Vannah with cool indifference. This is just another argument between us. She’s already fixed her clothing and pivoted in my direction, but remains rooted in place by the window. Realization has swooped in and melted the bliss from her features. All that’s left is a rosy hue on her flushed cheeks.

She crosses her arms in a defensive gesture. “Repeat what you said. I need to know that you didn’t just propose with your dick still inside me.”

This is a fatal mistake of the bullshit variety. “Let’s forget it.”

Her laugh is hollow, void of any amusement. “I would, if you didn’t just ask me to be your wife.”

“It was in the heat of the moment.” Which hasn’t completely passed, if my lingering semi is any indication.

“You can’t pretend it didn’t happen.”

“It’s better if we do.” But my reasoning falls on deaf ears.

Vannah’s eyes flash, the green appearing more vibrant. “Where the hell is this coming from? We don’t even like each other.”

It takes great effort to

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