Hate Fuck Part Three (9 page)

He pauses on the next withdrawal, and a second finger joins the first.

“Oh…”

“Push out.”

My eyes widen in alarm as I jerk my head up. “That’s the wrong thing to say in that area.”

He laughs.
Laughs
. Oh my God. “I’ve done my research.” He looks at me, his eyes soft liquid gold, and he says the magic words. “Trust me.”

I bite my lips and pulse a little bit, bearing down against his fingers, and suddenly he’s got two digits inside my ass. And his cock bobs in the air. Okay, he likes this. Ahhh. I like this, he likes this…good stuff.

My clit throbs. My nipples are tight with anticipation. My breasts feel heavy and my mouth is watering.

Cole scissors his fingers inside me and I squirm hard against the ache of it. It’s going to stretch a lot more around his cock. I swallow a panicky reaction about
that
and think about how it feels once I’m stretched. How forbidden and intense that first finger felt.

How he’s never done what we’re about to do, and how much I want to experience that. Have him inside me, everywhere.

“Ready?”

I nod, and he pulls out crazy slow, then rolls on the condom. I watch hungrily as he strokes himself roughly, his eyes rolling back in his head as he applies more lube. Not needing instruction, I slide my hands under my thighs and pull my knees up, curving my back.

And I try to keep breathing. “I might say no…” I swallow hard. “It probably won’t mean no.”

Cole leans over me and kisses me hard on the lips. “I’ll know the difference, and if I don’t, let’s use Jason as a safe word.”

I let out a watery “Ha”. Yep, that would stop pretty much any sexy times on a dime. “Deal.”

I love watching Cole move. His naked body is a sculpted work of art, and until the fat head of his cock actually rubs against my rear entrance, I’m sufficiently distracted by the bunching play of his arms and chest.

But that first brushing contact zeroes my attention back on Cole, and his feral grin. “I’m gonna go slow, gonna be gentle, but I’ll have your ass tonight. All of it.”

I can’t wait.

The next contact is more…insistent. Like he’s not going to stop pushing, but he’s not really. It’s just…there. Firm. And ridiculously big.
That thing is never going to fit there
. Even as I think it, though, I can feel myself opening for him.

The burn starts right away. My eyes get really big and I squeeze my hands into tight fists to keep from waving them uselessly in the air, but I can’t keep the twisted reaction off my face.

Cole stops, but he doesn’t pull out. And then he presses again, and I realize there’s another level of burning, inside. And I cry out, “No, no, no, no,” and this time when he stops, I don’t think he’s going to continue.

I flash my attention to his face, and I’m surprised to see that his eyes are closed.

“Do it,” I plead, my voice weak, and he blinks down at me, and shakes his head.

“Not like this.” He slides to my side, rolling me so he’s spooning me. “I think I might hurt you the other way.”

My pulse is skipping like a triple beat right now, so I just nod.

“Hey, come here.” He curls his hand around my neck and gives me a slow, drugging kiss that soothes my hammering heart better than any self-talk. Point, Cole. All the points to Cole tonight. “Touch yourself. Get yourself off, okay?”

This is so much better. The burn is the same, but Cole’s warm at my back and he’s kissing my shoulder, and this time when I arch my back, I’m pressing into the penetration and then all of a sudden, I’m full.

So fucking full.

I groan as I slide my right hand between my legs, because I’m so wet. And I think if I touch myself, I might go off like a firecracker, but I can’t
not
touch myself.

Cole squeezes my hip and rocks against me, and the burning is back. “That’s it, take my cock. God, you’re so tight. And hot. Holy…” He trails off into a quiet string of curses against my skin.

I hadn’t taken it all?
Holy shit. I open my mouth to say something, but I can’t. A keening wail is all I manage, then I’m panting as his pelvis presses hard against my bottom.

Inside me, he flexes, and black spots start dancing at the corner of my eyes. I can’t breathe, but I can move my fingers. I stroke myself, and as my fingers slip through my folds and over my clit, my lungs start working again.

I press my hips back, urging him to move. He doesn’t need any further invitation.

Being fucked in the ass is different than regular fucking. Not better. Definitely not worse. Even as I’m spinning out of my mind, I’m sure I want to do this again. This feels…God, I don’t even have a word for it. It just
feels
.

Cole starts slow, sliding in and out, but with each lubricated thrust, it gets a bit easier. He’s palming my ass, spreading my cheeks.
Is he watching me there? Watching me take his cock in my ass?

All the fucking feels.

“God, yes.” He groans as he slams into me, as he makes me scream into his pillow, and I realize I’ve started coming already. It’s like the type of orgasms I have when I touch myself, little ones that I can almost control, except I’m not doing it. I’m touching myself, and each time I do, I spark another little tremor, but Cole’s the earthquake, deep inside me. I give in to that feeling, give in to my body just being one crazy erogenous zone, and let myself slide into this muzzy space in my head.

“Jesus, I can feel you coming.” He wraps his arm around me, his muscles engulfing me as he surges into me, over and over again. My hand is drenched and I’m just cupping myself now, spun out completely as he chases his own climax.

When he shoves me forward, falling on top of me as he buries himself in my ass one last time, I can feel his erection twitching inside me and I come again.

It takes him a minute, maybe two, maybe more, before he slowly pulls out. I’m instantly cold and aware of my butt, but then I hear the shower come on and he’s back, rolling me over and lifting me up. I wrap my arms around his neck, breathing in his skin.

He sets me down just outside a glass shower, and I cling to him as he walks me backward into the steamy spray.

Cupping my face, he gives me a sweet, doe-eyed, just-fucked look before slanting his mouth over mine and sliding his tongue into my mouth. Sweet and not sweet at all.

Us in a nutshell.

“You okay?” he asks as he rests his forehead on mine.

I nod, curving into his body. He grabs a bottle off the shelf and tips some liquid soap into his hand. As he smooths it over my shoulders and down my back, I recognize the scent. Vanilla and jasmine.

I twist and stare at the shelf. “That’s mine.” He has my body wash, my shampoo and conditioner…even a bottle of the serum I only use once a week. “How…?”

His hands slow as he reaches my ass, carefully smoothing the slick soap over the tender spot between my cheeks. “I have my ways.”

“Did you go to a mall?”

He laughs and kisses my neck, sliding his mouth tantalizingly slowly to my ear, where his breath blows hot against my damp skin. “I would, for you, but no. I took a picture in your bathroom and had Ellie go shopping.”

“When?”

“So nosy.” He nips my earlobe as he reaches for the shampoo. “A while ago. As soon as she knew about us—that was her punishment for being nosy. You women never learn.”

“Mmm. But I like your punishments.”

“You get very different punishments than Ellie does, I promise you.”

He uses more than I would, but I’m not complaining as he carefully massages my familiar products into my hair. First shampoo, then conditioner. He blushes when I joke about him using the latter to jerk off, and a dull heat pulses in my belly when I realize he actually has.

Reaching for him, I stroke his length, bringing him closer to me with each tug until the swollen head is brushing against my wet belly as I jerk him lazily.

“So you fucked my ass,” I say languidly, leaning back against the glass tile wall. He falls forward, bracing his forearms on either side of my head.

“Sure did.” His breathing picks up and I feel a drop of pre-come roll under my thumb on my next stroke. “You drive me crazy,” he mutters, cupping one of my breasts. “And now I want to fuck your pussy again.”

“So do it,” I pant, spreading my legs for him. I’m ready again. I’m always ready.

He hoists me in the air, high enough for me to slide down on his cock, then he takes me, hard and fast in his shower. I didn’t think it was humanly possible to have this much sex in one night—and maybe it’s early morning now, I’ve lost all sense of time—but time and again, Cole proves that everything I thought before was nothing.

Right here, Cole dragging his cock in and out of me, his mouth on my chest and his strong, capable hands holding me up under my thighs…this proves that anything is possible.

A bad boy can be so very good.

A good girl can get really dirty.

And two lonely people who find each other can finally be happy.
 

“I still don’t like your apartment,” I whisper as we finally curl up together in his bed. “But I think I like your shower more than mine.”

—eleven—
 

Cole

When we wake up late in the morning, it doesn’t take much to convince Hailey we should go for a leisurely brunch at Birch and Barley, a modern restaurant with dark wood, exposed brick and funky lighting. I approve of the first two and tolerate the last because they have amazing sticky buns, which Hailey teases me over quite a bit until she tries one.

“Now who likes the sticky—“ I laugh as she chucks her napkin at me and I snag her fingertips, pulling them across the table for a quick kiss.

After we eat, we walk back to my place and grab my vehicle. I have a meeting I’ve been putting off, but it can’t wait any longer. I drop her at her place. Scott’s off today—and Hailey whirls on me, thinking I’ve fired him. I haven’t, although I considered it. Instead, I leave her in the very capable hands of Aki Yamashita, a freelance operator Jason and I have known forever, who’s recently moved to the east coast.

“You want me to babysit your girlfriend?” he’d asked me last week when I offered him a spot in the rotation on watching Hailey.

“She killed one of Gerome Lively’s girlfriends.” No further response needed. Not that Lively had enough feelings to care one way or another, but Hailey is on people’s radar now.

I drive north through Bethesda to the Reid estate in Potomac. Fifteen miles and a world of privilege separates Hailey’s new home from where she grew up, and my anger grows the farther I get from the woman who had the misfortune of simply being born to the wrong parents.

No amount of comfort or privilege makes up for not being loved.

I know we’ve just really started our relationship, but I want give her everything she missed out on. Not just love and affection, but a real home. Her place isn’t big enough for the two of us, and apparently she hates my condo.

One step at a time
. First I need to make sure she’s safe. Then I can tell her we’re moving.

My dick pulses at the thought of that fight. Maybe she’ll be okay with it if I tell her she can bring the stripper pole.

I turn onto the long lane that curves through the front of the estate, the Potomac River glinting in the distance. After parking my SUV in front of the grand entrance, I climb the steps. Before I get to the door, it swings open, and Amelia Dashford Reid herself is standing in the entranceway. She doesn’t invite me in.

I walk in anyway, brushing past her. I don’t see any staff, but they’re around somewhere.

That’s fine, I’m not hiding my visit.

From behind me, she clears her throat. “My husband isn’t here.”

I spin slowly, cocking one eyebrow. “Oh?”

“He’s on a business trip.”

“For an extended period of time?” I let out a single humorless huff of laughter. “That’s smart, sending him away.”
 

“Excuse me?”

I slowly button my suit jacket and stretch to my full breadth and height. Crossing my wrists behind my back, my fingers curling around my pistol grip in the hidden holster there, I lean forward slightly. “I know who you are.”

One elegant brow curves, matching my expression. “Yes, I imagine you do, as you have worked for my husband for the better part of a year and you are currently seeing my daughter.”

She’s good. Cold as ice, unwavering presentation as a woman of society. Which she is. They all are.

“Your father is in Geneva right now.”

She shrugs. “Perhaps. I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. You’ve spoken to him almost a dozen times in the last three days.”

That gets a flicker of surprise in her cold green-blue eyes. I’m struck by the thought that I’ve never seen a similarity between Hailey and her mother, but they share many features. Their eyes, although Hailey’s are greener. Their hair and nose. But Hailey’s mouth curves in genuine happiness and her soft curves make her lush and beautiful.

Amelia Dashford is a monster. Not to be trusted.

I whip out my gun and aim it at her chest. Center of mass. Maximum damage.

She laughs. “Put that away, Mr. Parker.”

“You don’t think I’d hurt a woman?” I slowly release the safety and aim my weapon at her forehead. “I’ll
kill
you. Without breaking a sweat. Are we clear?”

She stares at me, her eyes wide enough I know she’s thinking now. After a beat, she nods slowly and sits down. I don’t follow suit. “What do you want?”

“Insurance.”

“I don’t follow.”

“Hailey was kidnapped because of your world. Because of the games you and your father play. Because of Gerome Lively and your husband, but you and I both know that’s just one layer of depravity in a world of murky ugliness, don’t we? There are people who might want to silence Hailey because she doesn’t play by the rules.”

Amelia swallows hard, but she doesn’t break or drop character. Her hands flutter together. “This is quite the fantasy, Mr. Parker. But I have no idea how I can help. Of course I wouldn’t want anything to happen to Hailey. I’m sure Morgan has never—”

In two quick strides, I’m in front of her and I have the barrel of my Browning pressed against her forehead. “Why is Gerome Lively still alive?”