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He pushes me back and looks into my eyes. His gaze is penetrating – he’s searching for the lie.
“Why?”
I huff out a laugh. “Only you would ask that question.” I tell him. “Why? Because despite how much effort you put into pushing people away and trying to make them hate you, you’re a very easy person to love.”
I bare myself open to him. I let him see the truth of that statement in my gaze.
“Say it again.”
“I love you. And I won’t ever leave you.”
He grabs me and spins us around before setting me down on the counter. Grabbing my shorts by the hem, he yanks them down followed by my panties.
“How can someone so perfect love someone so awful.” He muses, standing between my legs, eyes roaming over my face.
“You’re not as bad as you pretend to be.” I whisper, cupping his face in my hands. “I'm in love with every part of you, but the real you under all the hurt, the side that you seem to only show to Rhys and Phoenix and now sometimes me, that Rogue is the one I love the most. Thank you for showing that part of yourself to me.”
His eyes darken with desire at my little speech and his mouth comes down to claim mine in a searing kiss. He yanks his zipper down and pulls out his thick cock. The veins are ropey along his length, making it look angry. He spits on his cock and oh god, that's so fucking hot. There’s something so primitive about it.
He places the head of his cock at my entrance and pushes in, pumping twice before bottoming inside me.
“So fucking tight.” He snarls against my ear, jerking his hips in and out of me. “I’ll never get tired of your pussy.”
“Mhmm.” I moan against him, focusing on my building orgasm.
His fingers tighten on my ass and thigh as he tries to bring me even closer against him.
“Again.”
“I love you.”
He comes with a roar, pumping into me furiously for endless seconds as his orgasm stretches and sets me off. My walls squeeze him like a vice. I drop my forehead on his shoulder to help hold me up as I fall limply.
He turns his head and kisses the corner above my ear.
“Good girl.”
???
“Shit. Shit, shit, shit.”
Those are the words that greet me as I walk into the kitchen. The oven door is open and Bellamy is fanning the smoke plumes coming out of it as the alarm rings.
“Are you trying to burn my house down?” I ask dryly.
She turns at the sound of my voice, a distressed look on her face. “No! I got distracted and forgot the pita bread." She shows me the black disk in her hand. "Which is now charcoal bread.”
She’s barefoot, wearing volleyball shorts and one of my t-shirts. Her hair is mussed from how I grabbed and pulled it last night and her body bears the signs of my obsession with her.
Bite marks and bruises cover her thighs and neck. I growl at the sight, my cock hardening. She’s fucking stunning.
I grab two additional burnt disks out of the oven and am about to throw them in the trash when I notice their uneven shape.
“Did you make this from scratch?”
She nods, pulling more dough from the fridge. “Yeah, I did. I have some dough left so I can make more.” She says, before making a small pout. “But I ruined the surprise.”
I raise an eyebrow at her questioningly. She reaches back into the fridge and pulls out a couple tupperware and a salad bowl. She peels the lids off the tupperware, speaking as she does so.
