Page 16 of Bitter When He Begs

“I’m not—” My voice breaks. I want to say I’m not hard, but we both fucking know I am. His cock is pressed right against mine through denim and sweat and way too many bad choices.

“You are,” he whispers, like it’s not even up for debate. “And you know what, Sage? I like you like this. Angry. Flushed. Squirming. Trying so fucking hard not to give in when your body already has.”

I bite the inside of my cheek and try not to react, but Luca leans in, his mouth brushing my cheek—not a kiss, but just enough contact to burn.

“You think I don’t notice how fast your pulse gets when I’m near you?” he murmurs. “Or how red you get when I say your name like I own it?”

I grit my teeth, forcing myself to stay still. “Get off me.”

He laughs, that dangerous sound that always comes before he says something that ruins me. “Nah. Not until you admit it.”

“Admit what?” I snap, shoving at his chest again, even though I already know I won’t move him unless he wants to move.

“That you want this,” he says, voice dropping again, impossibly deep, impossibly sure. “That you need it. That you fucking ache for me when I’m not around, and it pisses you off more than anything.”

He leans in again, mouth at my ear. “You can lie all you want. But I know the truth, Sunshine.”

My heart tries to climb out of my chest.

His breath ghosts down my neck and I suck in a sharp gasp, every inch of me lighting up like I’ve been set on fire. “I’m in your head,” he whispers. “I’m already in you, and I haven’t even fucked you yet.”

A shaky breath leaves my mouth.

“And when I finally do,” he murmurs, his lips brushing the edge of my jaw now, “you won’t just fall apart. You’ll fucking shatter.”

I’m staring at him, wide-eyed and completely fucked, and he knows. He sees it. That bastard sees every crack in my armor, every weakness, every twitch that betrays me, and he’s eating it up.

“God, you’re so pretty like this,” he says, dragging his knuckles along my jaw. “Blushing and angry and trying not to beg.”

“I’m not begging,” I whisper, even though it sounds like a lie even to me.

“Notyet.”

I shove him again, this time with all the strength I have, and he lets me—barely moving back far enough for me to sit up, to catch my breath, to pretend like I still have some kind of power here. But his eyes stay on mine. Still smug. Still hungry.

“You’re such a bastard,” I mutter, shoving my glasses back up my nose with trembling fingers.

“And you,” he says, voice low and dark, “are mine. You just refuse to admit it.”

He watches me flinch when the words hit, and then he leans in one last time, voice like a lethal promise. “You’re gonna come undone for me one day, Sunshine. And when you do, it’ll be because I let you.”

Then he finally pulls back, rolling off of me with a satisfied smirk, standing up and reaching for a tank thrown over his chair like this wasn’t the most insane fucking interaction of my life.

I sit up too fast, my head spinning, my whole body still burning. Luca tosses a glance over his shoulder as he yanks his tank on. “C’mon, Sunshine. I’m dropping you off.”

I scowl. “I can walk.”

Luca grins, shaking his head. “Not a chance.”

And for some fucking reason, I let him.

I let him drive me back to the frat house, let him smirk the entire time, let him win again. I don’t say a word when he pulls up to Sigma Rho Alpha, don’t acknowledge the way my legs feel weak when I step out of the truck, don’t look back when he watches me go.

Because if I do, I might just do something stupid.

Luca doesn’t need to kiss me to own me.

He already does.

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