Page 51 of Fueled Hate

We remain clinging to each other for a few minutes as flashes of Noah run through my mind. I hadn’t gotten to know him all that well, but what I knew of him was good. He’d always been polite, respectful, and kind. The opposite of his brother, on all accounts.

Leaning back, my eyes meet Dylan’s. And I see hope in them for the first time. He lifts his hand, brushing his palm against my cheek as he moves his lips to mine. “I need you … and more than anything else, I need you to need me.”

I do, but I can’t say that to him, so instead I press my lips to his, tenderly kissing him. I savor him, relish in what truly feels genuine and not just some mysterious guy on the side of the road who might disappear at any moment.

Pulling away, he takes a deep breath as he says, “Let me touch you. Not because you have to, or because you feel sorry for me. But because you want it …” He hums each word against my skin, teasingly depositing kisses over my neck, fueling my desire as his hands smooth over my ass, gripping firmly. “Because you want me as much as I’ve been craving you.”

Reaching for the hem of his T-shirt, I lift it over his head and discard it on the floor. Before wrapping my arms around his shoulders, I release all sane reasoning and overthinking. I know I’m traveling down a dangerous path by allowing him to touch me because I know once will never be enough. When his hands clutch my ass, lifting me off the ground, my legs hook around his hips automatically. With my back against the wall, he moves his hips forward, the bulge in his jeans rubbing against the thin layer of my cotton shorts. Breaking away from the feverish kiss, my head drops back, allowing plenty of room for his tongue to lick a trail down my neck. How can it feel this good? It’s more pleasure than I even knew was possible, and it’s just a kiss. What would experiencing all of him feel like?

Dylan reaches for the hem of my T-shirt, pulling it over my head with one hand as his other brushes up the bare skin of my back, causing me to arch away from the wall. I need him closer. More. More of him. Everywhere. He delivers as he dips his head, taking my nipple into his mouth. His fingers grip my thigh as he urges my feet to the ground. Wasting no time, he hooks his thumbs in the waistband of my shorts and panties, yanking them down. Dropping them to the floor, his tongue never stops its charge of exploring my breast. Trailing up, he shifts slowly back, his eyes lingering over me.

Instinctively, my arms move to shield my bare body when my brain clears enough to realize that I’m standing fully exposed and completely vulnerable in front of him. There’s a split second where I want the floor to open up and swallow me whole until his blazing eyes return to mine, the passion for my body utterly evident.

Skimming his fingertips up each hip, he moves them along my sides, up my back, then down my arms to firmly grip my wrists, one by one. Bringing both my arms above my head, he holds them to the wall with one large hand as he brushes the knuckles of his other hand against my stomach. “You can’t hide from me, Sadie. I already see you. I have since the moment you entered my world. Now, let me make you feel as exquisitely beautiful as you appear to me.”

Fuck. I’m puddy in his hands, wanting him to twist and turn me further with every word. Yearning more and more to be consumed by him with each breath. Being deeply coveted, completely wanted, is heightening my desire. I’ve never felt it so intensely before. And I already want to experience it again.

Closing my eyes, I let my head rest against the wall, wholly surrendering to him.

“Look at me,” he commands, his finger stroking my inner thigh as my eyes fly open. “Good girl.”

A sexy smirk remains on his face while his fingers slip inside me. I let out a long moan when he strokes me, finally feeling some relief at his touch, even as my desire for release mounts.

His grip tightens on my wrists, still pinning them against the wall above my head, as he pumps two fingers in and out of me while his thumb strokes my clit. I think I breathe out his name, but I can’t be sure. All I’m certain of is his hand mercilessly working me, my back arching against him, my hips moving in rhythm with his hand. My release rocks me—it’s so intensely satisfying it seeps through my entire body. I feel it everywhere. I feel him everywhere. That’s how it’s supposed to feel.

Leaning forward, he passionately kisses me, his fingers sliding out of me, stroking me as I shiver at his touch, still sensitive from the pleasure he summoned. Releasing my wrists, his fingers grip the nape of my neck before sliding into my hair and firmly grasping. As my hands drop to his shoulders, he ravishes my mouth. His commanding hand grips my hair tighter as his other hand unbuttons his jeans, working to free his rock-hard cock.

“I’m gonna show you what you do to me.” His jaw tightens as he takes himself in hand, stroking up and down the long length of his cock. “Just looking at you, just thinking about you. Have you thought about me when you’re touching yourself?”

Sucking in a sharp breath, I’m unable to answer. I try to form a coherent sentence, but it’s futile. “I … I …” This shouldn’t be embarrassing considering what’s just happened and the position we’re currently in, but I can’t bring myself to say it. And, I don’t have to because he quickly figures it out.

“Don’t tell me you don’t touch yourself, Sadie.”

Shaking my head, he looks to me with shock.

“Why not?”

I look away, avoiding his eyes. “I don’t know.”

“I think you do. Tell me.”

“I just don’t anymore.” Maybe that hole in the floor can open up and swallow me because this is not something I want to discuss with someone who leaks sex appeal from his pores. Sex has always been a chore, something I had to do, not something I longed to do, not with Kyle, anyway. Dylan on the other hand … all I want is for him to touch me, explore me, claim me. And I have a feeling he plans to do all those things thoroughly.

“I do.” He brushes his tongue over my lips, nipping gently with his teeth. His hand resumes stroking his dick while his eyes penetrate mine. “While picturing you. Everything I want to do to you, everything I want you to do to me.”

Squeezing my thighs, I make a failed attempt to tame the need I’m already feeling for him. And I know wanting to touch myself won’t be a problem now that I have this one memory to conjure up.

Reaching for him, I wrap my fingers around his cock as his hand halts.

That sexy smirk returns to his face as his hand relinquishes his dick, allowing me full rein while his other hand remains firmly entangled in my hair. Can’t say I hate it.

My thumb rubs over the head of his cock, rubbing a drop of precum around the tip as his body tenses. I’m gonna enjoy this. “Tell me.”

“There’s not an inch of your body that my tongue doesn’t taste”—he inhales a sharp breath as I pick up the pace, stroking up and down his length—“before my face is between your thighs, licking your pussy as you come.”

It’s my turn to smirk when he has to take another breath before continuing with the next naughty scenario. “You’re on your knees, sucking my dick, your eyes begging me to fuck your pussy.”

He lets out a low growl, his eyes closing briefly before looking back to me. “And that’s what I do. I bend you over the bed and ram my dick into your wet pussy until I come inside you.” With another growl, his body goes rigid and warm liquid hits my stomach. It drips down my hand as I continue to stroke, working every drop out as he says through gritted teeth, “Because you belong to me.”