Page 79 of Unexpected Shot
Bounces.
It fucking bounces.
“Holy. Shit.”
I’m in a dick trance as he stalks back over to me, his hand stroking his cock with every step. “On your hands and knees, Shelby. Because you might not know it yet, but you want to do everything I tell you to do.”
My comeback is cut off by a hard kiss, leaving me so stunned I don’t realize Beau has grabbed my hips to flip me over, putting me exactly in the position he wanted me in.
“Good girl,” he says as I hear the rip of the condom packet. “Now…about you squirting…”
I brace my arms and legs, fighting the demons in my head over what’s about to happen.
That I’m about to have sex with Beau.
That he’s going to make me orgasm again, and likely harder than the last one.
That I want this.
That I still hate him.
Yes, that’s what I need to remember. He?—
“Ah!” I barely recognize the sound coming from me as my arms give out and he pounds into me, not easing me in whatsoever to the punishing rhythm he’s setting early.
But I don’t care. I won’t say this out loud, but he was right. He knows what I need.
And I know I’m going to scream.
His hips slap against me, a cadence so mesmerizing I get lost in it, along with how Beau is hitting the exact right spot. One hand is grasping my hip so hard he might leave a bruise. It’s fine. It’ll go nicely with the red mark that’s going to be on my ass from him slapping it.
“Fuck, Belle,” he moans as I feel his chest come down to rest against my back. “It’s too…”
His words trail off, but he doesn’t need to say them. Neither do I. It feels too good. Too right. Yet, so wrong.
I hate him. I hate everything about him. I hate that he’s never admitted to hurting me all those years ago. I hate his arrogance. I hate his stupid pink shirts. I hate that he always feels like he has to save the day.
And I hate, absolutely hate, that I’m about to come again.
“More, Beau. I need more. Please.”
I let out a yelp as he turns me over, somehow not losing our connection as he ranges over me, driving into me like his life depends on it. Closing my eyes, I let the feel of him run through me. If I don’t, I might lose myself altogether.
It’s the eye contact. It’s too much. I know it will be.
Because I might hate him, and everything about him, but he knows me. He always has. And now that he knows this side of me? My brain can’t handle it right now. I just need to revel in the feel of him as he pushes in and out of me, my body meeting his with every thrust.
“Look at me, Belle,” he commands, my eyes doubling down and squeezing shut.
“I hate you.” Those are the only words I can say as I feel myself about to come apart again.
“Shelby. Look at me.”
There’s a short circuit in my brain, because I do. I open my eyes to see him just inches from me. His brow covered in sweat. His breathing heavy. And…oh fuck…
“Beau!”
It’s the last word I yell as I come apart, him not far behind me, my name a whisper on his lips.
