I Hate You (Waylon University, #3)

by Ilsa Madden-Mills

His eyes are brilliant, bright and gleaming as he takes me in, molten with need. His expression is searching, as if he’s waiting for something, needing something from me. “Is this mine?” His hand strokes down, rubbing my mound, but not enough—not nearly enough. “Yes,” I moan.

He slips his hand inside my leggings and past my panties, a lone finger inside me, dipping and exploring the folds, the already wet skin. My head falls back. His cock strains out, bulging against his jeans as he applies that tortuous pressure with his palm, rotating against me then sliding back inside my panties, two fingers this time, taking the cream and massaging me. He circles me, playing, teasing. He tightens his arm around my waist when I feel like I might fall.

He never lets me look away, and I can’t anyway, caught up in the way he’s losing himself too. Sharp need etches his face, his jawline...

One song glides right into another as his fingers slide in and out. My chest rises up and down. My hands tug on his nape, pulling up close until I can see the flecks of white in his ice-blue eyes.

His tongue licks at my lips, just barely a touch as I go over the edge, my heart and body crashing into tingles and vibrations that shake my body. I close my eyes and pulse around his fingers, stars detonating behind my lids. God. This, him, him. How I’ve missed his touch, craved it.

I can’t speak. He’s beautiful, so much that I ache.

I shake my head at him, anger at myself rising up. Why did I put myself through this with him? I can’t win. He always wins. He has me in the palm of his hand. Because I still need him. I still want him. I still l—

I can still smell her on me, and my cock is rock hard. In the middle of the crowd, I take a deep breath, willing my body to stay under control as I give myself a pep talk.

And her in my arms? It was three months ago all over again. Her under my hands…her sweet body against mine…everything I want to forget.

I shake my head. I’ve already had the girl I wanted tonight. I just wish she’d let down her guard; I wish I’d let mine down. I wish we… Yeah, but wishes are really just fairy tales with happy endings. Guys like me, we don’t get those.

And we have hit the guilt trifecta: food, church, and coming home.

I find Blaze, Dillon, and Ryker sitting at a table together. Speaking of trifectas, they could be movie stars out for lunch with all the hotness they’re throwing off.

My gaze goes back to him, tracing his profile, that sexy smile.

I hear a soft snore behind me on the bed and turn my head to see him there, lying on his side facing me. His arm is thrown over my waist, and I blink, wondering how I missed it. I study him, taking in his handsome face, soft with sleep, his full lips slightly parted as he breathes deeply. A little scar, a half-moon shape, sits over his right eyebrow, cutting through the hair there.

I want to hold him. And I shouldn’t.

Before I can focus too hard on the repercussions, I trace his lips, outlining the fullness. There’s a slight indentation in the center of his bottom lip, and I press my finger there.

His tongue darts out, licks my finger, and then he bites it, sucking it into his mouth. I can’t breathe, watching his mouth pull on me, until it feels like my body is hardwired to his tongue, everything sparking alive, nipples, my core, all of it connected to his sinewy wetness. He sucks me, his lashes fluttering against his cheeks. He lets my finger go slowly, with a soft pop.

My body tightens. I know that look. I recognize that heat and desire. I feel it too, every time he’s close to me. Goose bumps sprinkle over my skin, a buzz in my bloodstream…

He inhales sharply, walks over to me, and gets back on his knees. “I want your mouth, but you don’t like kissing.” I love kissing, but if I do that with him right now, I’m lost, and he’s already ripped me apart once, so goddamn hard. I can’t go there again—

I pull on his hair, threading my fingers through the soft strands as he bends his head closer. His hand pops the button on his jeans and unzips them just a little. His pants are barely past his hips, but his large mushroom-shaped cockhead is visible as his hand wraps around it and strokes. “Blaze…” I sigh as he runs his fingers over the thick head in circles, white liquid slipping out of the slit at the top.

I watch his hands pump, sliding over the brown skin of his cock, more thick white liquid beading. He rubs the wetness down the part of his length I can’t see, the slick sound of his strokes loud in the quiet room. “I’m thinking about you, your hot mouth sucking me like a lollipop. I want that. I want you taking every inch of me down your throat.” His head goes back with another loud groan, and the top of him is red now, bigger and thicker as his hand works it. With a mumbled curse, he shoves his jeans down the rest of the way and I see all of him, from root to tip. He’s huge, thick, and veiny. Hard as a steel pipe.

He must read my face. “Don’t think, Charisma. Look at how much I want you.” He squeezes the head of his cock, doing a twisting motion that makes me gasp.

Thick need has taken up residence inside my body, the warm honey of desire licking at every molecule inside. My fingers touch my silver nipple ring and, combined with him staring at me, it’s almost enough to get me—

I find myself on my knees in front of him. He lets out a deep groan of satisfaction when I take his length in my mouth. He tastes like salt and heat, and him. I want it all.

My tongue and lips suck him while his grip grows firmer, pushing my head into his body until the tip of him is in the back of my throat. His breathing gets loud as his cock thickens and hardens more.

“Charm…” he mumbles when I take him inside my mouth and hum. I’m not sure how to do it right, but I use everything I have. My hands cup his tight ass, my nails digging into those firm muscles as I suck, rolling my tongue down his hard length. “Charm!” His hips arch and he growls when he comes, his fingers in my hair as he pushes himself in deep. I take everything he gives me.

He…I…that was…hot. Why haven’t I ever done that? Because I never wanted to before, but with him…

He licks his lips. “The next time I come, I want it to be inside you, Charm. I want to be deep in your pussy. Tell me to go, say the words, because I can’t leave until you do. I can’t.” His eyes are dark, his chest still, as if he’s barely in control. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Air whooshes out of me. I want his heart, yet he doesn’t want me like that. Still, we both want to lose ourselves in this, whatever it is. It’s the language we both know. For this moment, it’s enough. I know I’ll regret it later, but rational thought left me the moment he sang “In Your Eyes” to me. “Stay.”

His muscled legs are apart, blue eyes running over me, lingering on the shoes before coming back to my face. “Hey.” Just that one husky word and I’m wet, juices already pooling. “How can you be hard again?” I flick my eyes over the tent in his jeans. “I’m twenty-one and horny as fuck.” He rubs his crotch and squeezes. “Been missing you.”

I suck in a breath and situate myself as I straddle him, my hands going in his hair. Wavy and dark, it’s soft and silky under my touch, and I tug, playing with the highlighted parts, scraping my nails over his scalp.

Sliding up and down against his jeans, I start nice and slow, my forehead pressed to him, my hands moving to his shoulders, kneading the muscles there, relearning the planes of him. We always moved so fast before.

He shifts up to give me more friction, and I gasp at the sensation from the rough fabric of his jeans, the button at the top pressing against my wet panties. I rotate my hips, sinking into him, massaging my clit against his pants. I moan. His fingers dig into my ass. He’s going to leave bruises, and I don’t care.

I unzip his pants and push them as far as they’ll go, about mid-thigh, until his cock juts up. No underwear, of course. He rolls the condom on and looks at me.

I gasp when he picks me up and moves me back onto his lap, groaning as he rubs his length up my nub, sliding over the slickness until I’m gasping and trying to get him inside me.

He stares at me, breathing deep when he takes my hips and adjusts me, going inside just an inch or two then sliding out slowly. “Blaze…” I arch for more. “Wanted this for so long,” he says, sliding back in, though not nearly enough for what I want.

His lashes flutter as he pumps all the way in. Our fit is tight and we stop, both of us motionless, savoring the feel of us. We stare at each other when he starts to move. He strokes in and out, hands on my hips, driving me, guiding me. I clutch his hair and move with him, getting deeper, faster.

His gaze is on my lips then my eyes. He stares down at where we’re joined. “You’re the best fuck I’ve ever had. Am I yours?” My hands...

“I got you. I know what you want.” He moves back up to me, spreads my legs apart more, and slides in to the hilt, going deep at this angle. I tighten my legs around his hips, whimpering as my heels dig into him. He starts an agonizingly slow pace, his strokes sure and disciplined, coming all the way out and then back in.

I tug at the hem of his T-shirt, and he pauses and helps me, whipping it off and tossing it on the floor. He undoes my bra and throws it over his shoulder, a little curve on his lips as he stares down at me. “You like this?” I say, cupping my breasts and brushing my finger over a nipple. His throat bobs. “You. I like you.”

His words are broken up in pieces when he speaks, each phrase in sync with his thrusts as he picks back up. “Charm…we never did it like this…on a bed…me, looking down at you. How good is this,” he groans. “So good,” I pant out.

He scoots us up and moves to his knees, adjusting so he holds my hips up at the tops of his thighs. I can’t really move, and he does all the work, so…intent on me. Holding my gaze, his finger rubs my clit as he slides in and out, back to that slow pace, savoring me. “You’re driving me crazy,” I say, my lips parted, arching up for more.

“Charm,” he growls, his hands moving my legs up until they’re over his shoulders and he’s looming over me, and when he pumps inside me this time, it’s ferocious and hard and out of control. He feels bigger, thicker as he pushes into me, and my hands fall to my sides as fire licks at me. Need rising. Escalating, higher and higher.

He’s everything. He’s everything I never knew I wanted. He’s perfection wrapped in a dark, deep lake, and I ache to swim in those waters, to discover his secrets and let him delve into mine.

I say his name when I come with a groan, my back lifting off the bed, my head twisting as I vibrate around him. He puts his face in my neck and goes with me, his shoulders stiffening under my hands then quivering. He continues to pump in and out until we both slow down, our breaths loud in the quiet room.

I have feelings for her, scary fucking feelings that keep me awake at night.

I’ve got to focus on what really matters, on my dreams and how bad I want it. But. I want— Her.

He shakes his head. “You two are driving me bonkers in there. I’m tired of sitting next to you always eye-fucking her. Do something. I’m tired of you moping around.”

And Zooey Deschanel as the love interest? Hot. You look like her, by the way, all that long hair and the way you laugh. You snort a lot. It’s cute.

“I knew damn well who you were from the get-go last fall, the girl who kissed me like I was air she had to breathe. Did you come from all that dry-humping in the loft? I did. I was too shy then to ask if you did. Sorry about that. Do you still think about that night? Because, babe, it was you.”

What do I want? WHAT DO I WANT? I close my eyes. I want her. So damn bad. And I can’t stop it.