She tastes like a piece of the heaven I won’t be going to. Kissing her is relief. It’s a delicate sort of demand. She pulls away, panting words between each kiss. “I hate you.” “I know,” I murmur into her mouth. Her palms push at my chest, pulling her lips away from mine to whisper again, “I hate you.” I run my hand slowly up her side. “Prove it to me, Gray,” I murmur against her ear. “Hate me enough to use me.”
