The Cruelest Kind of Hate (Riverside Reapers Book 3)

GAGE

The minute those words left Cali’s mouth, I had her upstairs and in my bedroom in record time. Thank you, hip, for not giving out during such a monumental moment.

“Gage, I know you’re drunk,” she says, keeping me at arm’s length like I’m some rabid dog trying to hump her leg.

I kind of am, but still. If she thinks I won’t chew through my leash to get to her, then she’s dead wrong.

“Are you sure this is what you really want?”

“Cali, that little dance number you pulled out there was like a bucket of ice water on my head. Whatever buzz I had going is long gone,” I assure her, ignoring the distance between us and stepping into her so she’s forced to confront me.

Her long lashes tap the ruby apples of her cheeks. “I just don’t want you to make a mistake.”

I thumb her chin, getting her to look up at me. “That word doesn’t fucking exist when it comes to you. You know that, right? In no universe could you ever be a mistake.”

My hands survey her body, getting the feel of where she’s the most responsive, lingering on the places that make my dick jerk in my costume. “You know there’s no going back after this, right?”

A canyon of silence stretches between us before she utters, “I know.”

I’m expecting resistance from her—like I always get—but her next move consists of her stripping off her heels and tossing them aside. I’m struck dumb as usual by anything she does, unsure how thin the ice I’m standing on is, but then she wastes no time in mauling me, littering sloppy kisses all over my neck.

When she tongues the outline of my pulse point, I smack her on the ass, the sound reverberating in the confines of my bedroom, her skin recoiling under my fingers from the force. She mewls and roughs up my hair with her hand, fisting the roots to steady herself before biting the thin skin just above my collarbone.

A slew of keening moans hurtles out of me, and the pressure she’s exacting on my throat makes me grind my hips against her pussy, letting her feel the weight of my desire while it presses against her inner thigh.

“You gonna leave a mark, Spitfire? You want everyone to know I’m yours?” I taunt, my voice jumping when she begins to suckle and form a tender bruise.

“Don’t need to leave a mark,” she pants, licking a long, thick stripe up the side of my neck. “You’ll be screaming my name loud enough for the whole party to hear.”

My cock fucking shudders from that idea alone, spitting pre-cum into the inside of my undergarment, which is thankfully hidden by so many leaves that nothing will be visible. I get a sharp lance up my abdomen—one colluding with my ever-growing erection—and I’m afraid I’m going to lose my load before I even get inside her. She’s not going to make this easy for me, I already know it. And I’m going to fold. Every. Fucking. Time.

She continues to perfect the hickey, sucking and nibbling, even moving to another area to stipple a motley mulberry over my naked skin. And as she tortures me, her giant breasts flatten against my torso, dangerously close to my face.

“Bra. Off. Now,” I growl.

She unlatches her lips from my throat, a fine layer of spit coating them. “You’re a big boy. Do it yourself,” she hisses.

Look, I don’t have Herculean strength or anything, okay? Cali’s just conveniently happened to wear a lot of poorly made clothing whenever we’ve done anything. My hands demolish the bra that’s been teasing me all night, a tornado of plastic leaves flying all over the place, and her tits bounce free, swaying from their heavy weight. They’re perfect. Everything about her is perfect.

Haloed in moonlight, my attention homes in on the beaded points of her nipples, my mouth watering to taste her flesh again. It’s been too long.

“Need those gorgeous breasts in my mouth, Spitfire. Better yet, need to slide my dick in between them and watch them bounce as I tit-fuck you.”

“If you get cum in my hair, I’m going to castrate you with a pair of scissors.”

“I’ll take that chance,” I say with a smirk, lowering my head to suck one of her nipples into my mouth, flicking my tongue back and forth over the erogenous zone until I pull my first moan from her.

She pushes her chest into my face, allowing me deeper access, and crude slurping noises muffle around the rosy bud. Her hand entangles in my disheveled hair, tugging until my scalp burns, and I’m pretty sure she rips a few strands out. It doesn’t falter my pace, though. I lightly indent her areola with my teeth, dragging them until I get to that delicious pucker, then popping off before she gives me a goddamn bald spot.

“I need you, Gage,” she begs, pain dancing across her screwed-up expression. “I need your tongue in my cunt. I just…oh, God. I need you. Right now.”

Ladies and gents, I present to you something that I never thought would happen in my lifetime: Calista Cadwell begging.

And fuck, does it turn me on more than her insulting me does. Which I didn’t know was even possible.

If I wasn’t loving this so much, I would be the one begging her. My dick is so hard that it hurts like a bitch. And my balls ache to the point where I can feel the pressure escalate in my lower abdomen.

“You gonna admit you’re drenched for me? How I’m the only person who makes your pussy throb and gush like that?” I slap the hood of her clothed clit, watching as pleasure crosses her face, liquifying every muscle in her upper body.

“No…” she starts unconvincingly.

I slip my finger past the gusset of her bikini bottom, contacting the flooded state of her slit and softly brushing over her liquid desire with the pad of my digit.

Her hips cant to take me deeper, and she claws into my back, denting my shoulder blades with her sharp nails. “God, fuck, yes! Yes, Gage!” she cries out, quivering against my chest, nearly coming undone from a single touch. There’s a spent lull in her voice, raspy as all hell, pleading with me to whet her lust.

So sensitive.

“We’re not in heaven. There is no God here. You understand that, Cali? I’m taking you to fucking hell tonight,” I whisper, squelching the length of my finger inside her, all the way down to my knuckle.

I don’t have to move much to get her to squirm, and when I begin to make good on my promise with a precise twittering motion, she moans loudly, her cunt squeezing in response. That smart mouth of hers is planets away, slackening with the intrusion of my digit. She’s a whimpering mess while I plunge another finger in, swirling both fingers around, hitting the destruct button that makes her gush even more onto my hand.

“This is nothing,” I warn her, juxtaposing the rough abuse of her cunt with a soft kiss to her cheek. “You keep moaning like that, and I’ll have no choice but to give you my cock.”

Trapped in the throes of absolute rapture, she keeps her watery gaze on me, a litany of whimpers fighting their way up her throat. The more I tend to her pussy, the more frequent her squeezes become, her pelvis thrashing and the swell of her belly drawing in with anticipation.

She goes to open her mouth—probably to damn me—but I cover it with my free hand, scissoring my digits until a ring of sticky liquid lathers around the base of them. “You don’t get to talk. Listen. Listen to how wet you are.”

She mewls against my palm, but it’s muted beneath the loud squelching of her cunt.

“Fuck, that’s such a pretty sound. You hear that, Spitfire? That’s what I do to you. I own your pussy. All this lying to me about being dry isn’t going to fly anymore. Do I make myself clear?”

All she can do is nod, still bucking fruitlessly into the air, unsatisfied by the thickness of the two fingers already jammed in her.

“Such a greedy girl,” I tut, teasing her with the addition of a third finger, then feeling her walls dilate hollowly around the girth. She continues to let loose all kinds of sounds behind my hand, so I slowly remove the blockage from her lips.

“Need your dick,” she demands, her impatience offsetting the bliss still splayed on her features.

“I’m not hearing a ‘please.’”

She suddenly glares at me and growls. “If you don’t take it out, I’ll do it for you.”

Okay, noted. Nice Cali only lasts a few minutes.

“I haven’t even made you c⁠—”

“If you think you’re getting two orgasms out of me tonight, you’re wrong. You’re only getting one.”

I withdraw my wet fingers, bringing them to my mouth and sucking every last drop of her arousal off of them. “Oh, I can get two,” I quip confidently.

She grabs me by the shoulders, spins my back toward the bed, and throws my body onto it. Granted, it’s more like a shove, and I don’t know how she manhandled all one hundred and ninety pounds of me, but she did, and it was hot as fuck.

When I situate myself at the headboard, she crawls on top of me, breasts hanging and ass up in the air, bridged by the sexiest arch of her spine. Our lips mesh together, and my hands snake into her hair to grab a fistful, wrenching her neck slightly.

Kissing her never gets old. It’s a rebirth every time. It’s the equivalent of a cold glass of lemonade on a sun-scorched day; it’s the feel of silk sheets on a freshly washed body; it’s the satisfying remembrance of something you’ve forgotten; it’s the smell of petrichor in a lush green forest on a morning walk. It’s every human emotion rolled into one.

I keep my lips puckered like a fool before realizing she’s moved to my stomach, marching her lips downwards in open-mouthed kisses, and when she gets to my navel, she licks it. I moan embarrassingly loudly, and thanks to the very thin walls in this house, if anyone’s on the second floor they can probably hear what’s going on in here. My abs flex as my swollen dick weeps for a single touch, sacrificing my manhood for a morsel of mercy.

And then I feel her fingers finally reach my costume, and I’m expecting a sudden wave of release when⁠—

“Holy shit. No way. I’m not putting that thing inside me,” she says, immediately sitting up.

I look down at my distended cock resting against my stomach, seeing nothing but nine inches of an angry, red-hued, vein-riddled appendage. Oh, and the metal barbells piercing the underside of my shaft.

“You didn’t tell me you were pierced!” she exclaims.

“You didn’t ask!”

“Why would I—why the fuck would I ask you that?”

“I don’t know! Why are you freaking out?”

She gestures to my offending penis. “Because that thing is going to shred my vagina like a small, medieval torture device!”

My eyebrows climb up. “Small?”

She groans, throwing her arms up in exasperation. “Decently sized.”

“Big,” I counter, propping myself on my elbows, staring her down until I get her to agree.

“Slightly above average.”

“Big.”

Dear God. Arguing with her doesn’t make the pain go away. It’s somehow inflating my cock even more, and the bulbous tip leaks more pearlescent pre-cum into my belly button.

Her face is wrought with horror. “Fine! It’s big. It’s disturbingly big. And not only will it rip me in half, but it’ll tear me up with those miniature metal stabbers!”

“I can take them out,” I reply quickly.

When girls see that I’m pierced, they’re either all for it or all against it. Each sexual experience differs from person to person. For some, the piercings enhance everything. For others, it’s uncomfortable.

She drinks in a centering breath, closing her eyes for a brief second, then opening them again. “No, you don’t need to do that, Gage.”

“I want you to be as comfortable as possible, Cali. We don’t have to do this.”

She shakes her wavy locks, which have lost some of their volume from me combing my fingers through them like a cracked-out raccoon. “It’s not that, it’s…” She trails off, chewing on her lower lip self-consciously.

Her voice becomes small. “Will it hurt?”

“It, uh, it depends on the person. I’ve been told it feels uncomfortable before, but I’ve also been told it feels great,” I answer.

She deadlocks with my dick, just mindlessly staring at it while God knows what spins around in that pretty head of hers. I stare back at her, suddenly feeling very naked under her analytic gaze, and all those nerves begin dogpiling inside me.

Why didn’t this possibility cross my mind? If anything was to go wrong tonight, it would be my fucking dick jewelry. Is she disgusted by it? Did I just ruin the mood? Will she call me Pinhead for the rest of my life?

After a beat of silence, her brow sets into a determined line. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

“Are you sure?”

She runs her finger over a dominant vein tracking all the way to the head, and even though she isn’t applying any pressure, my cock twitches for the relief only she can offer. Grinding my teeth together seems to be the only preventive measure I have from humiliating myself in front of her. I’m as sensitive as a fucking tripwire.

“I’m sure.”

I open my mouth in search of reassurance, wanting to make sure she really means it, but she’s stripped her thong off before any words can take flight. That perfect, gorgeous pussy is waiting for me, drenched in pent-up arousal, and I want her to disgorge all over my length until I’m dripping onto the sheets.

“Let me get a condom.” I reach for my nightstand, praying that they haven’t expired since it’s been eighty thousand years since I’ve had any action, but Cali stops my hand.

“I want to feel them—you,” she murmurs almost shamefully. “I have an IUD.”

Am I about to die? Is that why so many good things have been happening lately? Feeling Cali raw…fuck. It’s something that hasn’t even crossed my mind. I always wrap it before I tap it. I’ve never not wrapped it. I also don’t know shit about IUDs. Is that the little metal thingy that goes in the arm? Is it even an effective contraceptive?

“Yeah?” I ask.

“Yeah,” she assures wantonly.

With the mobility my hip allows me, I swiftly switch our positions so she’s beneath me, letting my cockhead snag over her damp clit, just giving her a taste so she can brace accordingly. When her eyes widen, I realize the top of my piercings must have grazed her folds, and a small gasp traps itself in her throat.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” I ask softly, arms stationed by her head, making sure to keep the majority of my weight suspended so I don’t crush her. Putting this amount of pressure on my knees definitely isn’t good for my hip, but if sex with Cali means I’m set back three months in recovery, then it’s fucking worth it.

My stomach clenches in a combination of both anticipation and arousal, though I’m not sure which is more potent. “At any point you want me to stop, you just tell me.”

She looks like the sexiest centerfold sprawled out underneath me, breasts heaving in a thin finish of sweat, swatches of pink dusting her cheeks, and her flaming mane fanned out on the pillow. She nods, but worry stilts her next set of words. “If you think that’ll fit inside me, you’re insane.”

“I was made for you, Spitfire. Only you.”

When Cali consents and spreads her legs wider, I slowly slide myself in, calculating the pace based on the contortion of her features—how her nose scrunches and a phantom grimace wrings her lips. The minute her cunt greets me with a welcoming slurp, I’m shock-stricken by how perfect she feels around me, and my brain has to hotwire itself back to its regularly scheduled programming.

I’m only halfway in, but my piercings have been swallowed up inside her, kissing her inner walls with every adjustment of her hips. I don’t move until I get some kind of confirmation from her.

“Oh, God,” she gasps, heeding the breach of her pussy, still tentative to move around or suck me any deeper.

I start to panic. “Is that a good ‘Oh, God’ or a bad ‘Oh, God?’”

“It’s—I—” She throws her head back, reveling in the sensation, her mouth forming a stunted, It’s good, before she wiggles around some more.

I don’t think she realizes how excruciating all her flailing around is. She’s involuntarily playing with the most sensitive part of me, and grunting through the pain doesn’t seem to be working.

“Spitfire, you need to stop…” I smash my molars together as my biceps shake. “Moving so much.”

She stills, so timid that it’s endearing. “Oh, sorry. A-are you in all the way?”

“Give me some credit. I’ve got a few more inches than that.”

Her hands anchor themselves in my sheets, and her belly flattens when she whimpers. “Gage…”

“You’re gonna take it, and you’re gonna like it. Need to see that pretty cunt clenching around all of me.” I slot myself between the juncture of her thighs, pushing, pushing, and pushing until I’m buried to the hilt, my blunt tip bullying her cervix. Her throat works with a pained whimper, but she parts around my girth, stretching to adapt to my size like the good girl she is.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” I hiss, balls tapping gently against her ass, my own ass clenched like my fucking life depends on it.

“I’m not…” she huffs, gnashing her teeth. “You’re…huge!”

“You don’t need to flatter me. I’m already inside you.”

“I hate you.”

I bend down to whisper in her ear, already starting a measured pace as I snap my hips, plowing the furthest I can go and letting her natural lubrication help with the consistency of my thrusts. “Then fuck me like you mean it.”

When I probe a sensitive spot, her nails rake down my back in smarting stings and scarlet scratches. I nearly lose my balance, but with the earnest way she’s milking me, I’m kept in place. I can feel the obtrusion of my piercings catch on her inner walls, but she doesn’t resist.

Cali moans, practically shaking the walls with the volume, pulsing around my dick and lifting her hips for me to find a better angle. I take advantage of her willingness, lining my waist up with hers to drive in askew to my previous position. I almost regret losing momentum until her back arches, and it feels like her fingers draw blood. Her eyes shutter closed, as if minimizing her vision will somehow dull the pressure in her lower belly.

“Look at me, Cali. Look at how well you’re taking me,” I demand in a husky whisper, easing myself out enough so she can watch as I slide back in.

Her eyes nearly pop out of her head as she watches, and she continues to cling to me, rolling her hips against mine. Her words are a blend of pleasured garbles and mewls, her tits bouncing when I take the liberty of speeding up. “So…good. Gage, it feels…”

“I know.”

It feels better than good. It feels fucking fantastic. Everything is heightened with Cali—the feel of her soft skin, the taste of malt on her tongue, the sight of her unraveling as her orgasm closes in, the little noises she makes that stroke both my ego and my cock, the intensifying smell of her arousal as more of it seeps into the suction we’ve made.

“Such a good girl with the way you’re squeezing me—letting me abuse this perfect cunt of yours. The best girl,” I praise, feeling my dick spasm as the coil in my abdomen begins to stretch. “Take what you need from me, Spitfire. Take whatever the fuck you need.”

I’m not going to last long. Jesus, it doesn’t even feel like we’re fucking. I’m gonna sound like a sappy shit, but it feels like we’re making love. A little rough in unpolished places, but soft overall, words of affirmation traded for our usual clash of tongues.

“Need you filling me up, Gage. Need to feel your cum dripping out of me,” she coos, wrapping her legs around my torso and giving me an all-access pass to that holy paradise between her thighs.

“Fuck,” I groan, punctuating my eager agreement with a body-rocking pump, feeling her grasp me even tighter, nails following the irritated marks she made prior. “You have no idea how much I want that, baby. Want to paint your walls until you’re leaking onto my sheets. Gonna worship this incredible pussy so you’ll remember this moment long after it’s over.”

“Trust me, I’ll remember,” she whispers.

I press my forehead to hers. “I will too.”

I double down on the roughness of my strokes, going as hard as I possibly can without hurting her. My orgasm is scaling an impossibly tall mountain, just inches from reaching the summit, and I can see the golden glow of release just beyond the snow-capped peak. Her legs tremble and her feet lose momentary hold on my lower back, her tits recoiling from each now-sloppy rut. Our moans harmonize, rising above the party’s commotion, and my knuckles are bleached from digging into the mattress.

I have no idea how my stamina or my hip have lasted so long, but I’m not complaining. I spear my cock into her, balls slapping against her asshole, and I flex myself to make sure she can feel my piercings stimulate every nerve in her cunt.

“Mmm, Gage! Oh. Oh, God. I think I’m gonna…”

I can tell she’s getting closer with the strain of her eyes, the uneven hitch of her breath, the viselike clench of her cunt. She isn’t self-conscious about what’s going to happen next like she was the first time we were physical, and getting to see her fully let go is better than saving the winning shot of any hockey game.

My dick prods her G-spot, giving her the first taste of her long-awaited orgasm, and it only takes a few more shunts until she falls apart in my arms with a guttural cry, squirting all over my dick in concentrated pulses. Her cum leaks around the plug of my cock, dripping onto the sheets and splattering the lower half of my body.

Feeling her bathe my cock, seeing her all over my navy sheets, is enough for me to sputter inside her, spraying long, thick ropes of cum that intermingle with the overflow from hers. Everything is warm and wet, coddling my happily softening dick, and I don’t rush to pull out of her.

My milky spend travels down her legs, accentuating the sticky slap of her thighs, and the combined scent of our desire steeps the space around us. This is a goddamn dream—seeing her spent beneath me with my cum trickling out of her.

The breath Cali’s not wasting on insulting me is flowing out of her in quick pants, face flushed and a dazed look in her eyes. “That was…”

Still hovering over her, I grin. “The best Halloween you’ve ever had?”

She looks up at me through her lashes. “Second best.”

“Good thing I’m not done with you yet.”

Cali props herself up on her elbows, tits rising and falling with overtaxed breaths, her thoroughly fucked expression a lick of fire to the flickering wick still burning strong in the bottom of my stomach. “We’re going to miss the party,” she says.

Even though her glorious cunt is keeping my cock warm, I pull out of her, letting a viscous string of arousal stretch between us before it soils the sheets below. “I promised you another orgasm.”

She goes uncharacteristically quiet, her cheeks prickling with embarrassment and her eyes looking everywhere but where I yearn for them the most. “I don’t think I can have another…”

She doesn’t even finish her sentence. I can tell she’s still hungry for me, though, with the way her body tenses in lustful anticipation, how her tongue wets the cushion of her bottom lip, priming it for the slight indentation of her teeth.

“Guess we’ll just have to find out, won’t we?”

Before her self-conscious thoughts become cobwebbed in her head, I spread her legs apart, slapped in the face by her pretty, puffy pussy lodged full of my load. I know something about eating my own jizz should turn me off, but when it’s undercut by that sweet escape between her thighs, it doesn’t even bother me. All gentlemanly sweet talk—or ungentlemanly dirty talk—is abandoned when my tongue finds her soaked clit, and I press the flat of it to her still-sensitive entrance, feeling her writhe slightly and shake the bed.

She’s still on her elbows, except her back is arched this time, her legs are wrought by tremors, and the tiniest of moans previews the chorus of obscene noises just waiting to penetrate the stillness of the bedroom.

I lick over her outer lips, tasting the first dregs of salt on my tongue, and then I breach the opening of her cunt, immediately doused in the overwhelming scent of sweat and cum. A ribbon of possessiveness weaves through me, cementing the unbelievable fact that I get to taste the two of us out of what might as well be a golden chalice, and my dick’s quick to react with an appropriate rush of blood.

I swirl inside her, lapping at her tender walls, simultaneously swallowing the heady abundance now steadily dripping out of her. All my senses are going off like a security alarm, so overstimulated that every thought in my head poofs out of existence.

I chance a glance at Cali, more than satisfied with her mouth cutting into a tight-lipped grimace, her head tilted back, the soft curve of her stomach quivering. When I brush over a supposed receptive spot, her pussy begins to strangle my tongue, hips lifting higher into the air, mewls so loud they practically break the sound barrier.

“Ohhh, fuck. Oh, Gage.”

I could spend hours down here, but she’ll probably only last a few more minutes. I speed up my pace with fast flicks, exploring areas that her exes doubtfully ever ventured, using my hands to clamp onto her thighs and prevent myself from melting into a pathetic puddle of goo. She’s fully thrashing now, riding my tongue greedily, clenching fistfuls of sheets between her hands as a multitude of moans make my now-hardening dick pulse.

Devouring her like this—witnessing her as vulnerable as an exposed nerve—causes pods of butterflies to hatch in my belly, salaciousness slithering serpentine through the very structure of my DNA. I never want this to end. I never want to spend a moment not pleasuring Cali. She deserves to have me buried between her thighs twenty-four-seven, and that’s a job I don’t take lightly.

Her orgasm is fast-approaching, courtesy of every lash of my tongue, and I give her an added incentive when I suckle on her slick folds. Her legs, surprisingly, aren’t choking me out like they were the last time. She’s so exhausted from the pleasure pendulum ride I’ve subjected her to that she doesn’t even bother with saying anything—everything’s either a soft gasp or an animalistic moan that doesn’t bode well for the state of my dick.

Just a little longer, Spitfire.

I retract my tongue the slightest bit from her cunt, looking up at her through her shaking legs, walking on razor-thin wire with the teasing she’s about to make me regret. “Legs up, baby. On my shoulders. Let me see that leaking pussy. Let me remind you who it belongs to.”

Her hand darts out to grip some of my hair, and she pulls harshly, a nonverbal message telling me that I need to put my tongue to better use. “You’re…killing…me,” she groans, slowly hauling her legs over my shoulders, a desperate attempt to ensure she finishes quickly.

“Considering what you do to me on a daily basis, this is hardly an even playing field.” I delve my tongue right back inside her, not stopping for a breath of air until I’ve swung her all the way to the highest point of her climax.

And finally, after a continuous succession of slurps, she cries out my name, and the sound clatters against my eardrums. A ripe wave of cum slathers my mouth, rushing down into my belly like pressurized water on a waterslide. Her arousal leaks down my chin, but I’m diligent enough this time to guzzle the majority of the excess up, so drunk on the taste of her that I neglect my painfully throbbing erection.

After her orgasm razes her, every tight hold of her muscles liquefies, and she’s a sweaty pile of bones above me, starving for air with urgent gasps that never seem to end. Her legs flatten against the bed, and I drag myself up a few inches, resting my chin on her belly.

“Wow” is all she manages, bringing her hand to her forehead.

“See? Told you I could get two.”