Make Me Hate You

by Kandi Steiner

I moaned at the sight of him stripping off his shorts and freeing his erection. It sprang forward, thick and long, and when he wrapped one fist around it with his eyes still watching me, I panted, my hand sliding down to rub my aching clit. “Jesus Christ,” he said, still stroking himself as he moved toward me. “You were touching yourself like that last night, weren’t you?” My hand stilled, just for the pause of shock registering through me. He smirked, still moving slowly toward me. “You fucking were. I heard you, your deep moans and hushed cries of pleasure. I thought it was a dream, but it sounded so real. It was, wasn’t it?” I nodded, lips parting, my fingers moving over my clit again at the sight of him towering and slinking toward me like a snake in the night. He only pulled his hand from himself when he was close enough to touch me, swatting my own hand out of the way so he could take the job. And when his warm fingertips pressed into my clit, rubbing it in a gentle circle, my entire body convulsed at the touch. “Who were you thinking of?” he demanded. I sucked in the urge to moan, holding my breath and fighting everything inside me that wanted to cry out at his touch. “You.” “Goddamnit,” he husked, and his warm fingers pressed harder, still circling as I writhed in his grasp. “Do you know how fucking hard you made me? I had to fuck my hand twice last night, and still couldn’t empty myself fully.”