Hate Crush Read online A. Zavarelli

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
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Before I can use the light pollution from the hall to my advantage, the tall figure shuts the door behind him, securing us into the suite together. He’s wearing a black three-piece suit and leather oxfords, but his face is obscured by a mask, and it’s too dark to make out any discernable features.

“Mr. Carter?” I force the name from my dry lips.

He doesn’t reply, at least not right away. I can feel his eyes on me, but I don’t know what he can see. Maybe his vantage point is better than mine, or maybe he’s reconsidering this whole situation too. The silence draws out for what feels like forever before he finally issues a husky command.

“Turn around.”

The command itself is as precise as anything Sebastian would say, but uncertainty still lingers as I hesitantly obey. He hasn’t answered me. I don’t know who he is, and I won’t until I smell him. Keeping the clutch in my line of sight, I wait with stuttered breaths as he draws nearer. The first thing I feel is his warmth against my back, and it sends a shiver straight down to my toes.

“Sebastian?” I whisper.

Still no response. His fingers feather over my shoulder, drawing my hair aside before he drags his nose down the length of my throat, inhaling me. Goosebumps erupt along my skin as I practically melt into the familiarity of this touch. Without a doubt, there is no other man on this planet who would breathe me in like Sebastian Carter does. And if that weren’t confirmation enough, the lingering notes of his cologne hit me like a sedative.

It’s him. It’s really him.

I relax into his touch and release a lungful of anxiety as his skilled fingers begin to explore my body. His fists curl into my dress and haul me back against him as his lips assault the delicate flesh of my throat. A tortured sound escapes me when I feel the solid ridge of his erection digging into the base of my spine.

“Sebastian,” I chant, this time out of certainty, not question.

He responds by unzipping my dress and sliding it down my body until it pools on the floor. I’m not wearing a bra, and I can feel his sharp intake of air behind me as he realizes that. The only barriers left between us are my red lace panties and his suit.

I don’t dare move. I don’t even want to breathe as he unbuttons his suit coat and tosses it aside. Anticipation thrums in my veins as I realize this is really happening. Sebastian Carter isn’t just saving me; he’s claiming me. When his palm slides between my thighs and cups my pussy, a thousand volts of electricity pulse through my body. I crane my neck to the side to breathe him in, leaning back into his solid frame as his teeth nip at my collarbone. I’m soaked for him, high on him, but when he paws at my breasts, it’s all over.

I start to beg, and his fist tangles in my hair in a silent warning. I want to hear his voice. I want to feel his breath against me as he speaks. But he doesn’t give me that. It feels like another punishment, and I have no doubt that it is. He hates me for making him do this. His resentment is written in the unyielding hardness of his body. He loathes the fact that he wants me, and even as he touches me, he wishes he could stop.

It’s intoxicating to think I have this power over him. This man is ten years my senior, and everything about this relationship is the definition of reckless. But I want him to drink the Kool-Aid. I want him to drown in the chemistry he can no longer deny. I want Sebastian more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life, and tonight, I don’t care if he knows it.

“Sebastian.” His name leaves my lips like a prayer when he kneels behind me and drags my panties over my hips and down my thighs. The thin lace material falls around my ankles as he pushes my body forward, and I collapse onto the bed, ass still in the air. His face is so close I can feel his breath between my thighs, warming me as I curl my fingers into the bedding. His hands come to rest on my ass, kneading into me as his nose grazes the seam of my sex. I cry out at the sensation and begin to tremble when his fingers dig into me and force my legs farther apart.

There is a moment of stillness in which I can only assume he’s considering the strength of his resolve. Once he crosses this barrier, there’s no going back. We both know it. This living, breathing animal of lust between us is as illicit as Eve’s apple. But ultimately, Sebastian chooses to indulge his sinful desires when he buries his face between my thighs and lashes at me with his tongue.


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