Page 91 of Reckless Hate

Ved Simha’s eyes flashed.

Uh-oh. Poor Samantha was going to be in trouble.

Rishi knew the bad boy in front of him would ensure Samantha regretted her elaborate charade that night.

Ved Simha looked at him. “Thanks for letting me know,” he said before turning and walking away.

Although Rishi knew the guy was taken and belonged to his best friend, he couldn’t help but admire Ved Simha’s hard butt and broad, muscled shoulders.

Samantha was indeed a lucky girl.

CHAPTER 40

“Ow! What the hell, Ved!” Samantha’s butt was on fire where her enemy’s large, calloused palm had just landed.

“Don’t you like it, baby?” he asked, gripping her hips harder and thrusting into her from behind.

They were both kneeling on her bed with him behind her. He had just returned from his basketball practice and didn’t even bother changing. She didn’t mind. She liked him hot and sweaty at times.

Her butt cheek stung with his spank, but the pain got her core throbbing in pleasure. The bastard was turning her into a pervert like him.

“I want to spank your butt until you can’t sit for a week,” he whispered against her ear.

She blinked, unsure if she should be aroused or outraged by his words. But another moan escaped her when he continued to drive into her.

“I know the truth,” he growled, pinching her nipples from underneath using his calloused thumb and forefinger.

She threw back her head at the stinging pleasure. “What truth?” she asked breathlessly, her mind obsessed with his touch and the pleasure it gave her.

He began slamming into her hard until soon, pleasure exploded and she saw stars. Her body shook and shook until she fell on the top of her mattress in a boneless heap. Her enemy’s heavy weight landed on her back.

He pulled away and turned her until she lay on her back. He then climbed on top of her and glared at her.

“I know the truth about your friend,” he said. “The fact that your best friend would prefer to fuck me than you. And that you deliberately let me think you fucked him.”

She was shocked that he found out.

“If you pull a stunt like that again, I’ll make sure every damn male in the hundred-kilometer radius knows I’m fucking you and that you are mine.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I’m not yours,” she reminded.

“Until the deal is over, you are mine.”

She stared at him while he glared back.

“Batard possessif.” She called him a possessive bastard in French.

“In English,” he reminded.

“I said fine.”

He raised an eyebrow. “That sounded like a lot of big words for just a fine.”

She shrugged. “French language is complex.”

His eyes flashed in amusement. “Really?”

Grinning, he rolled away from her. A yawn escaped her as she stretched her legs. She had a long day. Classes and then tennis practice. She couldn’t join Rishi for long in the workshop that evening.

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