Her nails claw uselessly at the air, her face contorted between fury and surrender. “I hate you,” she gasps, the words breaking apart as I drive into her.
“You hate me?” I snarl, snapping my hips harder. “Then fucking hate me while I make you cum.”
I slide my thumb back to her clit, circling it mercilessly as I pound into her. She’s trapped, writhing, begging without words, every sound she makes proof she’s mine.
“Say it,” I demand against her ear, sweat dripping down my temple. “Say you’re mine.”
She shakes her head, eyes blazing even as her body bucks against me. “Never.”
My hand leaves her throat just long enough to grab her jaw, forcing her face toward me, our lips inches apart as I slam into her harder, deeper, until the wall is rattling. “Then I’ll fuck the truth out of you.”
Her eyes roll back, her whole body convulsing as she comes again, screaming against my palm when I slap it back over her mouth to keep her silent. Her pussy strangles my cock, milking me, dragging me to the edge with her.
“Fuck.” I grind out, burying myself as deep as I can, hips jerking uncontrollably as I spill inside her, every thrust painting her with the claim she swore she didn’t want.
When it’s done, I don’t let her go. I keep her pinned, her wrists still locked under my grip, her body trembling against mine, our sweat-slicked skin glued together.
“You can tell yourself it was a mistake,” I murmur against her ear, still buried deep inside her. “But your body knows better.”
She’s still caged against the wall, my cock softening inside her, her chest rising and falling like she’s run a mile. Sweat beads at her temple, smudged lipstick, hair ruined—fucking gorgeous wreckage.
I ease my hand from her mouth, just to hear her. “Look at you,” I murmur, my voice low and jagged. “Fucked open on my cock and still glaring at me like you’ve got fight left.”
Her lips tremble, then curl into something sharp. “You’re disgusting.”
I smirk, brushing my thumb over her spit-slick lower lip. “Disgusting enough, you just came screaming on me twice.”
She jerks her head away, snarling under her breath. “You think you’ve won? You’re the one who couldn’t stay away. You didn’t even want me, remember?” Her eyes cut to mine, bright with fury. “You got what you wanted, and I wasn’t worth a damn after.”
The words hit harder than I expected, a sting I bury beneath a cruel smile. “And yet…” I roll my hips forward, making her gasp when she feels I’m still inside her, still thick, still holding her down. “Here you are. Letting me ruin you all over again.”
“Letting you?” She laughs, broken and biting, the sound tearing through the silence. “You’re delusional. You cornered me. You took.” Her nails rake down the wall, furious, trembling. “I’d never choose you.”
“Liar,” I rasp, leaning in until my lips are at her ear. “Every time I get close, your whole body begs for me. You can spit your venom, Brooklyn, but your pussy doesn’t know how to lie.”
She gasps, red blooming across her cheeks, fury and shame in equal measure. “You’re so full of yourself.”
“No,” I whisper, biting down on the shell of her ear until she shudders, “I’m full of you. And you’ll remember that every time you walk around dripping me down your thighs.”
Her head snaps toward me, eyes blazing. “You’re sick.”
“Maybe.” I finally pull out slowly, deliberately, dragging every last aftershock out of her, then let her stumble as I release her wrists. She catches herself against the wall, thighs trembling, glaring daggers.
I tuck myself back into my trousers with obscene calm, like I didn’t just claim her where anyone could’ve walked by. “Funny thing is,” I murmur, watching her tug her ruined dress down, “I didn’t even want you.”
Her eyes widen, breath catching, like the words cut deeper than anything else I’ve done.
I lean closer, lips almost brushing hers, cruel and soft all at once. “But now that I’ve had you…” My smile twists, sharp enough to bleed. “You’ll never stop wanting me.”
Her lip curls as she yanks her dress down, trying to piece herself back together like I didn’t just tear her apart. “You’re pathetic,” she spits, voice raw. “Pathetic and lonely. No wonder you chase after your daughter’s friend—you couldn’t get a real woman if you begged.”
For a second, I go still. Then the laugh that leaves me is low and dangerous, rolling through the space between us until I see her shiver. “A real woman?” My hand snakes out, fisting her jaw, forcing her to look up at me. “Sweetheart, there’s nothing realer than the way you break for me.”
She tries to speak, but I’m already crushing my mouth to hers—hard, claiming, bruising. She shoves at my chest, useless little pushes that only make me groan into her mouth, biting her lip until she tastes copper.
Her muffled protest burns against me, and I eat it like oxygen, swallowing the fight until it twists into another desperate sound she can’t hide. I wrench her back against the wall, grinding into her, teeth scraping down her throat. “Say it again,” I growl, dragging my tongue over the mark I’ve left, “tell me I’m pathetic.”
“You are,” she hisses, even as her nails dig into my shoulders.
