Chapter 4 - Yara #4
His hand on my throat relaxed a bit, letting me breathe in, and just as I was about to open my mouth to tell him to fuck off, to let me go, he shut me down in the most effective way.
His lips landed on mine, stealing any coherent thought I had.
His tongue explored, pushing in my mouth as if he was too impatient to wait.
Our teeth clashed, and before I could help myself, a moan I didn't want, erupted from me, swallowed by him.
The hand that was on my heart mere seconds ago, traveled all the way to my stomach, over my hip and behind my thigh, lifting me up effortlessly.
Without a second to think, I lifted my other leg, straddling him, just as he pressed against me, pinning me to the wall.
The pants I wore were thin enough to feel him right there, against my pussy, grinding, pushing against me as if he owned me.
Judging by the way my body reacted to him, he did own at least a part of me.
Sharp pain erupted from my lower lip as he bit down, licking it a second later, soothing the burn I could feel in the pit of my stomach. My underwear was soaked, the walls of my pussy clenching desperately, wanting to be filled, needing what only he could provide.
"You fucking drive me insane," he murmured against my lips, allowing me a moment to catch my breath. The hand on my throat traveled to the back of my neck and traveled up to my ponytail, pulling at it and tilting my head. "Completely and utterly insane."
I had no idea what to say to that, especially not after today. He behaved like a motherfucker, siding with that sleazebag.
The rational part of me knew this was all wrong.
This wasn't what I wanted, what I promised myself, but the irrational part of me didn't care he was an asshole.
It didn't care that he shattered my heart and my soul with those callous words.
It knew he could give me something no one else could, and it wanted it.
I pressed my chest against his, desperate for friction, for anything he was willing to give.
"I fucking hate you," he repeated the same words like the other night, but none of those words held the weight he probably intended them to have.
The more times he said them, the less they had the desired effect, and I had a feeling they were just another one of his defensive mechanisms against me.
"I really," he bit my lower lip again, "Fucking," his hold on my ass tightened, "Hate," another kiss landed on my lips, "You.
" Maybe he did, or maybe he thought he did, because those eyes couldn't lie.
Those dangerous onyx eyes weren't cold right now. They didn't hold the same poison he usually had, and I tried stopping myself from reading too much into it. From dreaming of something that would never happen.
But I guess I didn't have to stop myself—his words were like a bucket of ice poured over my head.
"Tell me you're not fucking him," he bit out, pulling my ponytail harder. "Tell me you're not fucking any of my friends, little lamb."
It took me a second for those words to register in my mind, but when they did, I couldn't get away from him fast enough. I pinched his side and the moment he yelped, releasing his hold of me, I pushed away and stood at the threshold leading to the living room.
"You can't be fucking serious?"
He glowered but so did I, and if he thought he could come in here and insult me all over again, well.
The motherfucker shrugged, adjusting himself in his pants. "Well, seeing how easily you give yourself to me, I had to ask. I don't want to get some disease or some other shit. I have no idea where your pussy has been and if you—"
"I'm gonna stop you right there," I said coldly, feeling the tendrils of ice moving through my veins.
Just a moment ago I felt alive, wild, full of fire, but I should have known it would end up like this.
"You have absolutely no right to tell me who I can or can't fuck.
" His eyes darkened, but I continued, "At least Ryder isn't an asshole like you. "
"So, you do like him?" he growled, stepping closer to me, but I wasn't having this conversation with him. Not right now and probably not ever. "Answer me!" he roared, shaking me to my core. But what shook me more wasn't that roar, but the look of pure anguish on his face.
I almost answered him. I almost made him feel better, but at the last moment I remembered that he was the one who always made me feel like trash. He was the one who pushed and pulled on and on and fucking on, making my very existence here miserable.
So, no, he didn't deserve explanations. He didn't deserve to feel better.
"None. Of. Your. Business." I smirked, narrowing my eyes at him.
His hands shook and I had a feeling that he was close to snapping completely.
"But if you really want to know," I chuckled, "once I do fuck them, I'll make sure to compare all of your cocks and I'll let you know who was better—you or them. "
He advanced toward me, but he failed to realize that I was inching slowly away from him with every step, and before he could get to me, I slammed the door closed and ran toward the main doors of the suite.
I ran like the hounds of hell were after me, and truth be told, Xavier Thornton was the Devil.
But even the Devil sometimes needed to fall.
Even the Devil needed to remember that he was not invincible.
Game fucking on, Xavier.