I Do (Hate You) by Sienna Blake
Excerpt of The Bet
“It seems that we’re at an impasse.” I raised an eyebrow and he continued to explain, “Neither of us is willing to admit we want the other, that we want the other to want us back.”
I transferred Ronan’s wrists to one hand and moved the other to the hem of his low-slung pants. I teased the coarse hairs there, running my finger back and forth, deeper and deeper.
“And what do you suppose we should do about this… what was the word?”
Ronan’s breath hitched when I brushed against his cockhead.
“Hmm?” I asked, trying not to grin from my little victory.
I unzipped Ronan’s pants and pulled out his hard shaft. I experimented with a couple long, slow strokes and heat flooded between my legs when Ronan exhaled a ragged, restrained breath.
“Was it an impasse that you said?” I whispered, relishing the quickening of Ronan’s heartbeat beneath my breasts. “Because I’m not sure we’re at an impasse at all.”
“No?” Ronan managed, the one word nearly a growl.
“No,” I said calmly, though my own heart was starting to pound in my chest as Ronan’s nails dug into the back of my hand still holding his. “I think we’re at a surrender, actually.”
I flicked my wrist over the sensitive head of Ronan’s throbbing penis and he sank his teeth into his lip to bite back a groan.
“I think we’re at the part where you admit you threw me over your shoulder unprovoked,” I said. “That you want me.”
Ronan opened his eyes, which had fluttered closed when I quickened my pace on his cock.
“You think that?” he asked, his eyes hazy and unclear.
He licked his lips as I nodded. Then after a stuttering breath and a noise almost like a whimper, he wrenched his wrists free and tugged my hand from him. He flipped me over onto my back and continued the tear I’d started in my dress. My legs were over his shoulders and his head between my legs before I could catch my breath or push my hair out of my face.
I dug my fingernails through my tangled tresses and groaned as Ronan’s tongue—hot, wet and pressing—found my clit. I was closing my eyes when Ronan suddenly stopped. I lifted my head to see him looking at me across what was left of my dress.
“I see you weren’t wearing underwear,” he said as his finger took the place of his tongue, and I gasped. “Did you know that when you sat with your legs open on the chair?”
Ronan’s finger pulsed expertly against my clit and I struggled to keep my head up.
“I didn’t think my teacher would be looking,” I said, not able to stop my back from arching.
“You didn’t want him to be looking?” Ronan asked before biting on the flesh of my inner thigh like it was a juicy peach.
“No.”
“No?”
Ronan bit a little harder and my hips bucked up uncontrollably. I couldn’t stop my hands from moving to Ronan’s hair, carding through his thick, boyish locks, guiding his lips back to my wet pussy. My head fell back as inevitably as the setting sun and I groaned as Ronan licked me. His tongue set my body on fire, my skin glowing like the liquid gold light cascading down the dome of windowpanes. My thighs started to quiver and I could feel the wave building inside of me and it took every bit of my will power to dig my palms into the sheets and pull myself away from pure bliss.
Ronan’s lips were wet with my sheen as he lay there on the bed, staring across at me with pupil-dominated eyes. I retreated till my back hit the pillows and I sagged against them slightly, catching my breath.
“You’re not willing to admit you want me yet?” Ronan asked, his voice hoarse like he’d been shouting into the very core of me.
I swallowed heavily. Our eyes met, flashes of light stabbing between us like the strings of a cat’s cradle, a trap to fall into.
“No,” I said unsteadily. “Are you?”
Ronan dragged his pinkie against his wet lips like they were the very tip of an ice cream cone and then sucked his finger into his mouth before smiling around it.
“Of course not,” he said.
“An impasse?” I asked.
“An impasse.”
I nodded, the same way he had, and then I grabbed the tear I’d begun, Ronan had continued and I determined to finish it. Stitch by stitch I tore the dress, feeling each one give way beneath me like exhaled lungs. Stitch by stitch my body was laid bare. Stitch by stitch Ronan watched. He was shipwrecked at the end of the bed and I planned to wreck him even further.
With the dress completely in ruins, I slipped the straps from my shoulders and tried to breathe evenly as Ronan drank me in, sipping delicately my naked flesh instead of throwing it down like his thousand-dollar bottles of whiskey. I didn’t feel expensive, I felt unbuyable, and that kind of power made me even wetter as I met Ronan’s hungry gaze.
“Tell me you want me,” he said, his words calling for a white flag while cutting like a sword.
I shivered. “No.”
Ronan stripped himself of his clothes, kneeling unashamed at the end of the bed, his nakedness in full glory.
“Tell me you want me.”
“No.”
He crawled toward me, gripped my ankles and yanked me toward him, silk slipping like cool water beneath my back. But with Ronan’s mouth finding my nipple I felt anything but clean.
“Tell me you want me,” he whispered between soft kisses in hypnotising circles around my breast.
“No,” I sighed, sinking into the sheets.
I felt Ronan’s cock at my entrance and sucked in a steadying breath. I expected him to thrust in, I expected an attack. But he pushed inside slowly, slowly, slowly.
“Tell me you want me,” Ronan said against my lips.
He stilled inside me, fully inside me, oh, so deep inside me. Ronan bit my bottom lip so I couldn’t shake my head, so he could keep control of himself. I felt his body tense against me, nearly quivering it was held so tight.
“No.”
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