Page 38 of Hostile Rival
My veins pump and my teeth clench as she rocks, her grunts rolling into moans. Heat pricks my skin and I catch her heavy-lidded eyes.
“Hands on my throat,” I demand, weirdly getting harder at the thought of this bad bitch hate fucking me.
And she does, momentarily, pressing on the outside of my neck to restrict the air, making me lightheaded as my heart beat skips.
Feeling my pulse thrum beneath her fingers has her panting and grinding in deeper.
I’m about to shoot my load—and she’s seconds away from an orgasm. I can sense it. See it in her silver eyes. My little firecracker is hot for this. For me.
When I’m all out of air, I seize her wrist and yank her hand away from my throat, taking in a gust of air.
“Jesus Christ…” The surge of oxygen and the feel of this woman has me shaking.
Something takes over me and I let go like never before, heaving her off me and spinning her onto all fours. I fuck her hard and violently, rougher than I’ve ever fucked a woman before.
Dani takes every thrust and absorbs every wild grunt, her own noises feral.
“You been thinking about this as much as I have?” I pant.
“God…yes,” she moans. “Harder…”
“You feel incredible, little firecracker.”
A part of me knows this is too much for us to claw back from. The black hole we’ve fallen into would be hard to fill.
But the other part has lost control and doesn’t have the power to stop. Blood pounds in my ears, competing with her screams, and then my balls cramp.
Pleasure hits me hard, almost crippling me. When her body goes lax, I know she’s spent, too.
She clambers forward and my dick slips out, instantly hating the loss of our connection. Sitting back on her shins, she pants and tucks her hair behind her ears, shaky and dazed.
Staring into her eyes, they darken. A greedy desire still lurks there, and a hint of something else. Not remorse. Maybe hope.
She gave in to me.
We came together.
Both of us lost our heads.
And once definitely won’t be enough—but it has to be that way.
Moving to my bed, I sit on the edge of the mattress, run a hand through my hair and clear my throat, ready to speak.
“Don’t—” She jumps to her feet and wobbles, then straightens, immediately projecting strength. “Touch me again and I’ll do more than choke you.”
Pivoting on the balls of her feet, she backtracks into the bathroom and slams the door shut.
I lie back on the bed and stare up at the ceiling.
What the fuck have I done?
16
DANIELA
PAST
“Wait, Jorge––” Ruben moves in front of us as we cross into a room lit with red LED lights where lines of cocaine wait on a mirrored coffee table and an open bottle of tequila sit next to a dirty ashtray.
