HATE CRUSH Page 13

  Something scrapes against my door, distracting me from my thoughts, and I sit up in my bed, wondering if one of the boys snuck into the dorm again. But when the door opens, and my room floods with light from the hall, it’s the last person I’m expecting standing there in the frame.

  Sebastian looks… odd, and I can’t quite figure out why. My favorite plaid wool blazer from his wardrobe is slung haphazardly over his arm, and his hair is mussed. It isn’t until he shuts the door behind him and steps closer that I can smell the whiskey on his breath. He’s been drinking.

  “Sebastian, are you okay?”

  He stalks toward my bed and unfolds his large body next to me, the weight causing me to dip closer to him. My leg bumps against his, and I leave it there as I try to get a read on him. I want him to feel my presence. I want him to acknowledge me, and for once, he does. His fingers feather over my jaw and down the sensitive flesh of my throat. A shiver crawls up my spine as I consider whether he’s going to strangle me or fuck me. Sebastian puts an end to those thoughts when he leans in and brushes his lips against mine.

  “Make me better, Stella.”

  My heart fractures under the weight of his sorrow. I always suspected this pain lurked inside him, but I never thought for one second he’d ever show it to me. I don’t know what to do. Dealing with something this enormous is overwhelming, but for him, I would move mountains if he asked me to.

  My natural inclination is to crawl into his lap and eat him alive, so that’s what I do. Sebastian groans into my mouth as I drag my fingers through the silky locks of his hair down to the base of his skull. I can keep him here, just like this. Hold him and never let him go. My body is already moving, grinding on his cock while his hands come to rest on my ass. If we keep up this pace, it will be over before it even begins. He asked me to make him better, and I want to do that. I want to please him.

  Releasing him from my grasp, I sink down onto my knees before him and frantically unzip his trousers. Secretly, I’m still terrified he might change his mind. If he were going to fail me for anything, it would be convincing him how right this is. When I’m drunk on this chemistry between us, nothing else matters. At these moments, he’s worth losing everything for. And when I peek up at him, he isn’t protesting as I slide my palm over the bulging cock beneath his black briefs. Nobody’s attention has ever tasted so sweet.

  His fingers tangle in my hair as I withdraw his cock, but he doesn’t force it. For once, I’m in control, and it feels so goddamned good. My tongue darts out and swirls around the head, and he groans like he’s in physical pain as his grip on my hair tightens.

  Slowly, I gather my wits and start to lick at him, sucking and nibbling and squeezing the head of his cock into my mouth. It doesn’t matter that I don’t really know what I’m doing because Sebastian’s sounds tell me everything is just right.

  My freedom is short lived, and soon he’s got me on a leash again. His giant palms slide to the base of my skull, cupping me there as he thrusts up into my mouth. I cough and choke and sputter on his cock every time he forces it into my throat, and he growls out his approval. He can’t get enough of it, and by default, neither can I. My fingers dig into his thighs, and I hum a pleasurable chorus against him as warmth spreads through my core.

  “I like you on your knees for me, Stella.” His grip on my hair tightens along with the muscle in his forearm. “My little deepthroat princess.”

  To prove his point, Sebastian tips his head back and thrusts as deep as I can take him, groaning in agony as his come spills into the back of my throat. I swallow everything, but it isn’t enough. I don’t want it to be over, so I keep licking him, sucking him, silently worshipping at his feet. He strokes my hair, and I can feel his approval radiating through my body. For a blissful moment, nothing else exists outside of us. It’s the most intimate moment I’ve ever shared with anyone. So naturally, he has to ruin it.

  He pulls his soft cock from my lips and smears some of the come left behind onto the beating pulse in my throat. A moment later, he’s hauling me up against his body, dragging his thumb over my lips.

  “I’m a sick fuck,” he growls. “And so are you, Stella. I put you through hell to amuse myself, and yet you keep crawling through the coals for just one more second of my attention. It’s goddamned pathetic.”

  His words slice through my starving heart like a machete. He may as well have gut punched me. And it occurs to me now that it’s too late to protect myself. This man already has the power to hurt me, and not only does he know that, he takes pleasure in it.

  “Fuck you.” My voice cracks, betraying my emotion. “You think I don’t know who you’re really talking about—”

  My tirade is cut short when his lips clash with mine, hot and fierce and possessive. Against all rational thought, I melt into him. He’s a broken shell of a man. I knew it the first time I saw him, and regardless of his cruelty, I still want to take his pain away. But what about me? What about my pain?

  He kisses me until I’m breathless and my lips are bruised. I kiss him back because he’s right. I am fucked up.

  “I hate you,” I murmur against him.

  “Say it like you mean it,” he chastises. “You think I haven’t noticed you’re wearing one of my tee shirts you dirty little pervert? You’re obsessed with me.”

  My lips remain sealed despite my self-preservation screaming at me to deny the obvious.

  “That’s what I thought,” he says. “Now quit faking it and tell me you want to please me.”

  My head is telling me to say no, but my heart blurts out the answer before I can even think about it.

  “I do.”

  “Come to my house at noon tomorrow,” he tells me. “And be ready to spread your legs for me.”

  IT’S two minutes before noon when I arrive at Sebastian’s door. Though it was an adrenaline rush to sneak across campus, knocking on his door is an entirely different beast. I have no doubt that he chose this time because the majority of the school is at the football game, but even so, there’s always the possibility of getting caught.

  Located on the far northeast corner of campus, his house is the most secluded in the teacher’s village. I catalogued most of the details inside from my last visit, but I wonder if anything has changed. Focusing on that simple thought calms the raging beat of my heart when Sebastian opens the door.

  Today, he’s wearing dark wash jeans, a black polo shirt, and a downright predatory gaze. His eyes sweep over my crushed red velvet skirt and thin cream-colored blouse. I wonder if he can tell that I’m wearing nothing else beneath it. He opens the door wider, wordlessly cocking his head to the side to gesture me in. I follow his silent command and pause on the threshold of his living room, waiting for his next instruction. Sebastian seems to sense my uncertainty, and he makes a point to let me know.

  “This is your last chance to back out, Stella. You can still run away, and from now on, we will be nothing more than strangers.”

  “We’ll never be strangers, Sebastian.” I meet his gaze head on. “You’ve been inside me.”

  His eyes pool with an undeniable hunger, but as bad as I think he wants this, I’m also certain he wishes I would set him free. He’ll never admit that he’s just as fucked as I am. I came here today with the understanding that he will do everything in his power to push me away. Logically, I’m prepared for it, but emotionally, I think Sebastian Carter might be the death of me.

  “So you’ve made your choice then?” he asks. “You want to continue down this path with the understanding that it can only end in catastrophe?”

  “I’m handing you the loaded gun,” I reply. “Now what are you going to do with it?”

  “Shoot, Stella,” he answers mournfully. “I always shoot.”

  “All good love stories end in tragedy.” I swallow.

  His eyes flare, and his features turn to stone. “This isn’t a love story, baby. It’s just a tragedy. Now take off your clothes or leave.”

  Piece by piece, I remove every shred of clothing I have on until I’m standing before him naked and vulnerable, just how he likes me. This is his game, and I am his perfect little doll.

  “Kneel.” He points at the floor. “Spread your legs so I can see your pussy.”

  The position is awkward and exposing, but I do as he bids, never breaking eye contact. For every challenge he issues, I will rise to the occasion. For every harsh command, I will work to prove myself to him. And until he sees that, I’m not giving up on Sebastian Carter.

  “Do you think it wise?” He circles me like a shark in bloody waters, slowly removing his leather belt from his jeans. “To walk across campus with your tits chafing against that white blouse for any pre-pubescent motherfucker to see?”

  “It wasn’t for them.” I crane my neck to look up at him. “Nobody saw.”

  “Those tits are mine, Stella,” he growls as he lowers himself onto his knees in front of me. “They are for my eyes only. Understand?”

  “I understand,” I whisper as he loops his belt around my neck and pulls the end taut in his hand. I really am at his mercy now, and he wants me to know it.

  “Bend over,” he growls. “Onto your forearms. Keep your ass in the air.”

  I do as he requests, staring at a spot on the wall while I hold my breath. What’s he going to do with me now? His palm slides over the curve of my ass, stroking me and warming the skin beneath his solid fingers. And then, without warning, he slaps my ass so hard my entire body lurches forward as I cry out in shock.

  “You can scream if you want to,” he tells me. “Nobody will hear you.”

  Before I can process the weight of his statement, he slaps my ass again. It shouldn’t please me, but it does. I know this is a test. He’s trying to scare me. He wants m
e to run. But Sebastian doesn’t understand how resilient I am. A secret smile curves my lips as he smacks me again and again, leaving red handprints all over the flesh of my ass and against the back of my thighs. He’s nearly breathless when he finally stops, and I’m soaked.

  “Fucking Christ,” he murmurs as he dips two fingers inside me from behind. “You are a little deviant, aren’t you?”

  I don’t answer because he slaps my clit next and then starts to finger fuck me. It’s all I can do to stay upright on my hands and knees, and in this position, so exposed, it feels insanely good. It’s rougher than he’s ever been, and holy fuck, I feel like I’m going to explode. I don’t even know what’s happening, but when he pulls the belt tight around my throat, I welcome the uncertainty and pain. And then Sebastian surprises me yet again when he leans down and bites my ass so hard, I will undoubtedly be marked for days.

  My scream gets swallowed back down my throat as the belt cinches tighter and tighter, and his fingers fuck me harder and harder. And then, against all control, it’s happening. My orgasm rips through my entire body and splashes against his fingers as I collapse on the floor. Blood rushes between my ears like a freight train, and I’m fairly certain I can’t hear or see anything. It takes me several long, deep breaths to pull myself back together, and that’s when I realize he let go of the belt at some point. Now he’s leaning back on his knees, wearing a satisfied smirk on his lips as he points at the hardwood beneath me.

  “You made a mess on my floor.”

  “Holy shit.” My cheeks flame when I notice the puddle there. Is that from me? It isn’t just his floor. His arm is wet too. And his shirt.

  “You squirted all over me,” he answers darkly. “Now it’s my turn.”

  I don’t know what that means, but I watch him as he stalks across the room and takes a seat in his oversized chair.

  “Crawl to me,” he orders.

  Pivoting up onto my hands and knees, I crawl to him, stopping only when my knees bump against his bare feet. He grabs the bulge in his jeans and stares down at me.

  “What will you do for this?” he asks.

  My tongue darts out to wet my lips. “Whatever you tell me to.”

  For a moment, there’s a hint of softness in his features as he reaches down to stroke my face beneath his palm.

  “To what length will you debase yourself to prove your loyalty to me?”

  “To whatever length it takes to make you understand that I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Why?” he asks. “Why would you want this?”

  “Because you make me better too,” I whisper.

  “Unzip my jeans,” he rasps, refusing to acknowledge that he ever uttered those words last night.

  I lean between his parted thighs and gently stroke the bulge along the seam of his jeans before I unzip them and tug down his briefs. Mr. Carter’s cock is a thing of beauty, if ever I saw one. Right now, I want to worship him, but I know better. Waiting for my next instruction, I continue to trace the bulbous head beneath my fingers, taking immense satisfaction in the way his eyes grow heavier with my execution.

  “Come up here,” he demands.

  I rise on trembling legs and force my thighs apart as I straddle him. I’m still a mess for him, and Sebastian feels it when I rub against his cock. I reach out and try to touch him, but he grabs my hands and forces them behind my back.

  “This is my show, Stella. Now sit on my cock, you little pervert.”

  I ease my hips forward, and he pushes his swollen flesh against me until my body begins to sink over him. Taking him all the way inside, I feel so incredibly full in this position. Sebastian reaches up and grabs me by the throat, lightly squeezing as he drags my face to his. He kisses me as if he’s starving for me, all the while insisting he’s still in control.

  I draw in a ragged breath as his fingers dig into my hip, guiding my movements to show me what he wants. He turns my face away from him, squeezing my body against his chest so I can’t look at him. But regardless, I catch a glimpse of our reflection in the window. His tall, muscular body draped in the chair while I bounce up and down on his cock like he’s my favorite toy. He’s still fully dressed, and I’m completely naked, yet I suspect he’s the one who feels stripped bare.

  His body is unyielding, and I know if he really wanted to, he could easily crush me. He knows how to push me to the edge but never over it. And even if it’s illogical, I trust that I will always be safe in his presence. My eyes drift shut as I let that tranquility wash over me, soaking up the sounds of Sebastian. The pressure inside me builds again, and my thighs squeeze together, pinning him inside me as I get lost in the feeling. It’s like climbing up a roller coaster and then free-falling at a hundred miles per hour when I drop. And when I come for him, it leaves me just as breathless too.

  “Sebastian.” I collapse onto his chest, and he flips the script, pounding his cock in and out of me at a frantic pace.

  “Motherfuck.” He swears as his orgasm passes the point of no return. At the last second, he pulls out, his come shooting across the creamy skin of my abdomen. He milks his cock dry and collapses back into the chair, his eyes colliding with mine as he catches his breath. Using his thumb, he drags it through the remnants of his come, and then brings it to my lips. I suck his flesh clean and possession stirs inside those deep green irises.

  “Go clean yourself up,” he orders. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  SEBASTIAN

  AFTER FUCKING STELLA THREE TIMES, I’m not entirely sure what to do in the aftermath. Her auburn hair spills across my white sheets, her dewy skin flushed from exertion, and her lips swollen and bruised from mine. I would bet my entire bank account that if I were to part her thighs, she’d be swollen there too. Over the past three hours, I’ve given her pussy more of a workout than an entire month’s worth of my nightly runs.

  We are playing a dangerous game, and every time I fuck her, I’m tempted to bury myself balls deep and unload in her one more time. But for now, I’m trying not to completely implode both of our lives. A task that, so far, is coming up short.

  I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, and that becomes apparent every time I look at her. Stella has been abandoned by her family, and now she’s seeking out comfort from the worst possible source. A man with no morals and no heart.

  She looks up at me with eyes so warm they could be mistaken for melted caramel. She’s a fucking viper with a kitten’s heart, and she doesn’t even know it. She has no idea what she does to me, taunting me with those eyes. I know what she needs from me. I know what she wants. It’s written all over her face. Nothing would make Stella happier than to have me crawl in behind her and pull her body against mine. But the sooner she learns that I’m the last thing she needs, the better off she’ll be. That’s what I tell myself as I turn away and reach for a towel.

  “Sebastian?” She calls out to me in question.

  “You need to leave. I’m done with you now.”

  Silence lingers in the wake of my destruction, and being the coward that I am, I can’t bring myself to look at her face. I don’t want to see the damage there. If I cave on this, I’ll do something even worse than fuck her. I’ll let her in.

  I opt for the safety of the bathroom, shutting the door behind me and locking myself away from her. As I wash, I remind myself that this is how it has to be. Stella will learn to stand on her own. She will come to understand she doesn’t need anyone, least of all me, and it’s best she doesn’t become any more invested in this than she already is. Because, without a doubt, I will destroy her. I will fail her. And I’ll never be able to look at myself again.

  Those assurances do nothing for the shotgun-sized hole in my chest when I step into the bedroom and find that she has gone. Not a single trace of her remains except for her scent. Tension seeps into every muscle fiber in my body, and it isn’t logical. This is what I asked her to do. This is the only thing that’s right. So why does it feel like she’s betrayed me?

  The remainder of the weekend passes in a blur. Squashing every urge to stalk her and fuck her again, I resolve that this will be the week I let her go for good. When Monday rolls around, I take relief in the fact that she doesn’t have class that day. But when the time for after school detention comes and she doesn’t show, it feels like a slap in the face. Of course, she doesn’t actually have detention. She’s served her sentence, and there is no logical reason she should be here. But that hasn’t stopped her from showing up every day regardless. Until today.