The Cruelest Kind of Hate (Riverside Reapers Book 3)

GAGE

My lips smash onto hers before my brain can leash me, and she takes only a second to return my eagerness, mauling me with the same desperation and urgency.

Something changes inside of me. I don’t know what, but I can feel it.

With my dick nestled snugly against her belly, I release her wrist from my hand and opt to intertwine our fingers, using her to steady myself despite the wall supporting both our weights. As the kiss escalates from timid touches to a feverish flurry of tongues, I free the groan trapped in my chest and roll my pelvis over her sexy, red-clothed center. Her other hand comes up to enmesh in my hair, pulling the strands harshly enough to leave a buzz along my scalp.

I slowly unpeel my fingers from around her throat, slithering them down to her panties, where I take the string on her waist and snap it against her flesh.

“If I were to slip my hand beneath your underwear, how wet would you be?” I ask, rubbing the frilly lace between my pads, inching closer to that perfect pussy of hers.

“Drier than my grandmother’s ashes,” she says, hiking her leg up the side of my hip and draping it over my ass. I trade the thread of our fingers to support the underside of her thigh, scoring my nails into the fat there.

Our mouths are still close, so I take advantage of the space and rake her bottom lip between my teeth. When I let go, it snaps back with a pop.

“You’re lying.”

She furls her fist tighter in my hair. “You’re overconfident.”

“It’s endearing,” I quip breathlessly.

“It’s annoying.”

She’s such a brat. And it’s so fucking hot. She’s enjoying this just as much as I am, but she’d never admit it. Her dilated pupils, the goose bumps riddling her skin, her pebbled nipples, the slight flush of her face.

There’s a delicious stretch in my lower abdomen, intensified by the pressure mounting in my balls, and I spurt pre-cum into my boxers, needing to thrust my dick inside of her more than I need my next breath of air.

Even though her leg’s strangling the life out of my hip, the pleasure outweighs the pain. “Calista,” I whisper, tonguing the roof of my mouth to get that sensual L, testing how incredible her full name sounds when it’s recited in the husky timbre of my voice.

She ruts her hips into the air, begging for me to tend to that unbearable ache between her legs—the spot I know is leaking for me. “Only my friends get to call me Calista,” she hisses under her breath.

With her waist angled, the gusset of her thong nearly splits her clit in half, and I run my finger over her exposed, puffy lips, feeling her shiver under my touch. “That’s right. We aren’t friends, are we? You hate me.”

A growl rattles in her ribs. “Yeah, I do.”

“Fuck, that turns me on,” I moan, throwing my head back.

“You know I can’t stand you, right?”

“You don’t need to stand at all, Spitfire. And you sure as shit won’t be able to when I’m done with you. I just need you. Whatever you’ll give me. Fucking burn me for all I care.”

Cali lowers her leg that’s hooked around me and spreads her thighs apart slightly, stretching her panties in the process. Her lust-clouded eyes stay on me as she takes two fingers and swipes them through her sopping clit, then she sucks her own arousal off with hollowed cheeks.

This girl’s going to be the death of me, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

When she unsuctions her digits from her pouty lips, she places them against my mouth, letting the heady scent of her linger. She doesn’t apply any pressure to push them between my lips. No, she doesn’t give me the satisfaction. She exacts the control she knows she has over me.

“If you want to fuck me, Gage, you’re going to have to beg,” she drawls.

Look, I’m a man who loves getting on his knees for a woman, but I say when I get on my knees and for whom. Cali’s already made it clear she’s not going to give in so easily, and I’m on a mission to show her just how wrong she is.

I gently push her hand aside, that starving beast inside of me stalking closer to the surface, jangling the bars of its cage and upturning my restraint with a single, self-destructive body slam. My cock kicks against my sweatpants, a carnal kind of craving spooling in the depths of my belly.

“I’m not going to fuck you, Calista,” I tell her, and maybe it’s the sex high talking, but I swear she looks disappointed. “But I’ll make you wish I had.”

I crook my arms around Cali’s legs, hoist her up onto me, and internally wince when my hip nearly caves from the additional weight. Though I’d take an eternity of hip pain for Cali to touch me like she is right now. The great thing about her apartment is that the kitchen and living room feed into one another, so there’s only a small amount of distance I need to cross to get her on the dining table. I’d be a gentleman and carry her to her bedroom, but we both know I’m not a gentleman.

Pins and needles plague my leg every step of the way, but the moment I set her on that hardwood surface, I can’t think about anything else but shoving my face between her thighs until she’s screaming my name.

Her initial shock apparently hasn’t worn off yet considering she hasn’t opened her mouth once to insult me, and she gifts me with a bright blush skittering over her clavicle. She looks like a fucking goddess sitting before me, thighs bookending my hips and the soft swell of her belly filling with anxious inhales.

I place a kiss on her shoulder, sliding my index finger under her bra strap and slipping it down her arm. “How expensive is this?”

“Expensive,” she gasps, pushing her voluptuous breasts out to me, those little pink buds sticking straight through the mesh covering.

“Good thing I have a lot of money,” I say, and in one smooth motion, I tear her bra down the middle, the rip of the fabric ricocheting off the kitchen walls. Her tits spill out with a jiggle, and her expression instantly darkens, that habitual snarl of hers catching somewhere in the back of her throat.

“Gage…”

Fuck, I’m loving this too much.

I attach my mouth to her freed nipple, lapping at the sensitive area with a snap of my tongue, and I use one of my hands to massage the squeezable mound of her tit. She rests on her hands as her neck lolls back, and when the quietest of moans filter out of her, I’m so far gone that I’ve surpassed the ozone layer.

I suckle the small bud with vigor, indenting it with a gentle press of my teeth, all while Cali’s hand weaves into my hair.

“Oh, God. I…” Whatever she was going to say gets broken by another mewl, and her cunt is flush with my aching balls, grinding into my hard cock with punishing rolls, searching for the one desire we have in common at this point—sweet, sweet release.

I nearly lose my balance, and it’s not because of the flare in my hip. I pop off her breast, seeing her nipple glint with a layer of saliva. “You have no idea how perfect your tits are, Cali. They were made for my mouth. The minute I saw them in that black dance bra, I wanted to fondle them, fuck them with my tongue, bite them and leave my mark.”

Her words brim with faux vexation. “If you give me a hickey, I’m punching you in the balls.”

I skim my lips over hers, taunting her with a kiss, wanting to swallow the notes of sugar clinging to the inside of her mouth. “I’ll make sure to leave it somewhere out of view.”

Before she can protest, I grab a handful of her panties and rip them from her body, not even bothering with making a clean tear down the middle. The flimsy material snaps in my fist, and the straps of her garters slide down her calves, puddling at her ankles along with her stockings. She’s completely bare before me except for the trimmed curls of hair smattering the hood of her drenched clit.

I can smell the intoxicating musk of her from here, and my mouth waters at the thought of the cloying taste of her juices pulsing over my tongue when she comes. Sweet and warm, like caramelized sugar popping on a scalding stovetop.

“Jesus, she’s pretty. Such a pretty pussy,” I whimper, staring at the wet, pink folds of her cunt, desire igniting in my chest and polluting my lungs with a thick, opaque smoke. Is this what it means to be pussy-whipped? Because I am. I so fucking am.

“I’ll finish myself if you don’t hurry the fuck up,” she threatens.

For that to happen, I’d have to be buried six feet deep. Maybe seven.

I grab both of her wrists in a bruising hold, pin them to the table roughly, and relish in the way her body rocks forward from the force.

“Are you going to behave and shut that pretty mouth of yours, or do I need to do it for you?” I growl, challenging her with an unwavering stare.

Cali sloughs off her belligerence and shakes her head, not daring to defy me with a smart-ass comeback.

“If this is what it took for you to be quiet, I would’ve done it a lot sooner.”

And then I bend down to her cunt, nestle my nose in her pubes, and rumble, “Now hold still. I didn’t eat dinner before I came, and I’m fucking starving.”

I don’t bother with fingers because I know what my girl needs. She needs me buried so deep in her pussy that I don’t come up to breathe until I’ve guzzled every last drop of cum.

I lash my tongue over her slit, circling it to spur an accumulation of pressure, and upon contact, her hips lift off the table.

“Fuck!” she screams, suffocating my head with her thighs since she’s surrendered control of her arms.

I didn’t realize she was that sensitive, but the way she’s squirming confirms it. I want her to be a writhing mess at the mercy of my tongue, so overstimulated that it only takes a lick for her to shatter like a pipe bomb.

“You taste so goddamn incredible, you know that?” I drill into her swollen cunt, experimentally flittering at a fast pace, my own need to come growing exponentially more unbearable as I watch her unfold before me.

I prolong her orgasm, enjoying a sick satisfaction at the tense contortion of her face, how her brow crumples and she bites down on her lip so hard that it bubbles with blood. I continue to feast on the sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted, switching from a stuttered sweep of my tongue to a continuous swirling motion.

She resists against my grip, her upper body convulsing, and the next expertly executed lap urges a string of curses into desperate moans. “Oh, God. Gage…I…don’t stop,” she pants, those muscled legs of her giving me a faint headache with the way they’re crushing my skull.

“Wasn’t planning on it, Spitfire. Wanna spend the rest of my life eating this gorgeous pussy. Need you to make a dripping mess all over my face.”

The lewd squelches of my spit and her arousal reverberate in the small area. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard, and my dick agrees. It’s exceeded an embarrassing dribble of pre-cum and fully flooded the front of my sweats. I swear I usually last longer, but when it comes to Cali, there’s no chance I’ll even last three minutes.

She’s curving her spine off the lacquered wood, her giant tits recoiling, and I collect more of her juices into my mouth, swallowing the surplus. She’s close; I can tell. Giving her a brief rest, I retract my tongue and ply her pussy with a kiss before trapping one of her lips between my teeth and biting lightly.

She practically slams her cunt into my face and almost breaks her wrists free, pleading for me to let her come and pelting me with the occasional threat if I don’t.

“Come on. You can last longer than that,” I croon, suckling at her pussy, feeling it clench from the anticipated intrusion of my skilled tongue. “Need you to last long enough to make my jaw lock.”

“I hate you,” she whimpers.

“Keep telling yourself that.”

Before I dive back in, I gnaw on the delicate flesh of her thigh, puncturing blood vessels in a small mosaic of mauve shades. Seeing my mark on her—it gives me a sense of pride that I only thought was possible from hockey. Claiming her as mine makes every thought in my mind dissipate into a cloud of elation.

I continue with some more strokes, grinning as her thighs compress my temples. Her cunt sucks me in with more sloppy noises, and I let both of her wrists go so I can press my palm down on her belly.

With my other hand, I stuff her with two fingers, targeting her G-spot, and crook them at just the right angle to open the floodgates inside of her. That, paired with the fast work of my tongue, reduces her to a trembling puddle stuck to the table. Her legs relax and shake by my ears, tears blooming at the corners of her eyes and streaking down her cheeks.

“Gage! I can’t…oh, fuck. I’m going to…I don’t…”

I’d encourage her if I could talk, but she doesn’t even finish the rest of her sentence before her cum sloshes into my mouth, submerging my tastebuds in the salty tang of her. But she doesn’t just gush onto my tongue, she squirts all over my face.

Crystalline liquid slathers my lips and drips from my chin, and the rest of her juices douse my nose, cheeks, and jaw. It’s a miracle I didn’t get any in my eye. I didn’t even realize what was happening before it was too late. I’ve never been with a girl who’s squirted before, but holy fuck, is it the hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed. I can smell her everywhere, can feel her arousal dribble in runnels down my neck and ooze onto the collar of my shirt.

My lower stomach cramps and my balls draw up, and then I spill into my sweats, a never-ending stream of warm, wet ropes that pour down my legs and paste the inside of my pants to my cum-drenched skin.

The minute I pull back from her clit, she instantly sits up, her hand covering her mouth in mortification. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry. I was trying to tell you to pull away, but⁠—”

I don’t mean to laugh, but I can’t help it. This is the most flustered I’ve ever seen her. “Does it look like I’m sorry?” I ask, using my fingers to gather some of her cum off my face, then sucking the glaze off my digits.

She stares at me, shell-shocked, blushing up a storm.

If I could spend the rest of my life tasting her, I’d die a happy man. So much better than heaps of processed sugar—an addiction, a life source, a goddamn ambrosia. “You don’t ever have to apologize for that, Cali. Ever.”

Cali averts her eyes, and my heart constricts when I pick up on the disbelief embedded in her features. “It’s embarrassing,” she whispers shamefully.

“Hey, hey.” I tip her chin toward me, smoothing my thumb over the dried splotch of blood on her lower lip. “It’s not. It’s fucking incredible. Everything you do is fucking incredible.”

Those big, blue eyes glance up at me, and shallow breaths broaden her chest. Her mouth quakes like she wants to say something, but nothing comes out.

“It’s clear some fucker made you feel self-conscious about it in the past, but I need you to know that you don’t need to feel that way around me, okay?”

She offloads a sigh, wiping the leftover moisture from her tear ducts. I hate the silence that greets me. I hate that I can’t assuage her pain, that I can’t turn back time and curb-stomp the head of whoever gave her shit over something she can’t control.

“If it makes you feel any better, that was the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me.” I chuckle, feeling a bud of relief flourish inside me when she perks up.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. It was like being baptized.”

The tiniest of smiles creeps over her lips. I don’t think I ever expected Cali to have such a vulnerable side to her, but now that I’ve gotten a glimpse of it, I can’t wait to see it again.