Page 82 of Blood
“Sammy,” I start softly.
“Don’t Sammy me, Kaleb,” she huffs. Propelling forward, she shoves at my chest with all she has.
“Samantha,” I warn.
“We did this, Kaleb. We did,” she cries, hitting my arm and then her chest over and over. “We did. I did.”
“Careful,” I reprimand, catching her arm. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
Samantha struggles in my hold, wriggling to her knees for more leverage.
I back away, standing from the bed.
Something flashes across her face.
“Or is that what you need?”
Sam’s eyes meet mine.
“You want to hurt.” It’s not a question. She needs a release, but she can’t voice it. “Fine.” I nod.
Reaching back, I pull my T-shirt over my head.
“What the fuck are you doing?” she hisses.
“Giving us both what we need.” My hands drop to my pants. “You need to feel something, and I need you. Besides, a good orgasm will do you good.”
“Not happening.”
I tackle her to the bed before she finishes. Sam struggles below me, hitting my chest and arms, but she avoids my face.
She wants to hit me; she doesn’t want to hurt me.
“Tell me to stop,” I challenge, catching her arms.
“Get the fuck off me.”
“Tell me to stop,” I repeat, kneeling above her so that I can roll her onto her stomach with her arms captured in the middle of her back.
“I hate you.”
“Tell me to stop,” I whisper, moving her onto her knees.
I unbutton and shove down her pants, taking her panties with them.
Releasing her arms, I push her forward, forcing her hands to catch her.
“Tell me to stop,” I say one last time as I shuck down my pants.
No?
Hands on her waist, I give her zero warning before burying my cock inside her. One strong thrust and my hips meet her ass.
“Ahhhh,” Sam cries out.
Pulling out, I bottom back in, her hips shooting back to meet me.
Our hips meet in a clash of frustration.
