“No, you hate that you enjoyed that, don’t fucking lie, darling. You were screaming in no time, and you hate that you loved every fucking second of my tongue in your pussy.”

His dirty words infuriate me, and before I know it, I’ve slapped him. It’s loud in the silence, and I suck in a breath as his head snaps to the side. Slowly, he turns back to face me, and all hints of the usual, charming, teasing Kenzo have vanished. I can see the resemblance to Ryder now. It’s the emotions, the wild, uncontrolled feelings.

He’s angry.

Furious.

Well, so am I!

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he warns, his voice low and rough. With one hand, he keeps me pressed to the wall, while he yanks down his joggers with the other, and the sight of his hard, throbbing cock has me freezing. It’s big, really fucking big. Too big.

No.

It’s bad enough I let him taste me. He isn’t fucking me. I channel all that rage, all that hate, and aim it towards him. All of it, from being stolen, to my dad, to these assholes, to my own emotions, I let it pour from me. Uncaring if I hurt him.

I pull back my fist and slam it into his face, then, as he’s reeling backward, I do it again and again, but he catches the last one and slams my hand to the wall next to me, crushing my wrist until I cry out. He pushes his face into mine, his smirk transformed into a snarl. “You want to hate me? Fine. You will still be screaming my name when you come on my cock.”

“Fuck you!” I scream into his face, lunging my head forward. It connects, and we both grunt as pain flows through my already injured head.

He grabs my other hand and slams them together above me, making me stretch up on my tiptoes, chest heaving as I kick at him. He throws off his joggers and presses his naked body against me. I hate the flare of desire that flows through me, or the fact that I want him. The fact that the sight of his pulsing cock has me wetter than I’ve ever been.

He strokes his length, making me watch as I pant. “I was going to be nice and wear a condom, but now?” He shakes his head and leans down, licking my lips. “You’re mine, I don’t have to.”

Releasing his cock, he grabs my thigh and hoists me up. I snarl, fighting against his hold to hit him again. I manage to get them away from the wall slightly, clawing at his hands hard enough to draw blood, before he slams them back.

“Want to act like a fucking animal? I’ll fuck you like one,” he yells in my face.

Before I can retort, I’m yanked away from the wall, spun, and shoved into it once more. My hands land against it as I try to keep myself from falling, and then he’s there, pressed along the length of my back, his cock nestled against my ass as his hand winds through my hair. He tugs on it, and I cry out, drawing my head back until I’m balanced with only his hand holding me up. Gripping my hip, he pulls me backwards and kicks my legs open.

“Get off me,” I demand.

His hand slips between my thighs, finding me wet. “No, you fucking want this just as much as I do, darling, and I’ve had enough of your attitude. I’ll fuck it out of you.”

I struggle again, continuing to fight him, even as I push my pussy harder into his hands. I hate them. I fucking despise these Vipers.

But all this fight, all this hate, has me so needy, that when he lines his cock up at my entrance and slams inside, I scream. Not in pain. In pleasure.

He laughs as he pulls back, fighting my clinging pussy, and slams inside. “Good girl,” he coos, as he licks my neck before biting my shoulder, making it hurt as he thrusts back into me, setting a hard, brutal pace.

This isn’t fucking.

This is hate.

Both of us hate the fact that we want each other. I hate that they took me from my life. He hates that I’m here and have the audacity to not fall at his feet.

It flows through us, guiding us. Each slam of his hips is harsh, his hands digging into my skin as he impales me on his cock. My breasts rub against the wall, the friction making me cry out as I tighten around him.

He’s so distracted with fucking me that he doesn’t notice me turning. I rip my hair from his hold, leaving some strands in his grip, and his cock slips from me as I twist and punch him straight in the face. “You son of a bitch! I’m not yours!” I scream.

He grabs me and flings me to the floor, coming down on top of me. “You are,” he roars as I slap at him, pushing him away before flipping over. I start to crawl away, but his hand circles my ankle and he pulls me back. I slide along the floor with a scream of anger.

Yet not once do I say no.

Because I want this.

And I hate that.

His hands are quick. They yank my hips up, and then he’s there again, pulling me back onto his cock. I groan, I can’t help it. He’s so big, it feels amazing. He slaps my ass hard, no teasing. It isn’t playful, it’s a punishment. He makes it hurt, and I love it.

I cry out, pushing back to meet his rapid thrusts, the sound of our skin slapping loud as he grunts behind me. “Asshole!” I yell, even as I reach between my legs to rub my clit.

His hand gets there first and slaps me away. Leaning over me, he grips my hair once again, balling it up and using it like a leash as he arches my neck, snarling into my ear, “I didn’t say you could come.”

“You bastard,” I cry out as he tilts my hips up further and hits that deeper spot inside me that has my eyes crossing. My breath fogs their perfect floor, my hands scrambling across it as I try to resist, but I can’t.

Not when he’s buried so deep within me, controlling me. Owning me.

“Admit you like it,” he growls, running his teeth along my shoulder, “and I’ll let you come.” The fact that his voice is rough and tight makes me grin, he’s not as unaffected as he thought.

“Wanker,” I snap. “Fucking asshole, dick sucking motherfuck—”

His hand comes down on my ass again and again. Pain radiates through me, even as his cock drags along those nerves. I’m so close, I try to fight it, but when he reaches down and tugs on my piercing, I scream, my release shattering me.

I clamp down on his cock as I writhe beneath him. His hips stutter, then he powers into me twice more before stilling, his cum filling me. Panting, I collapse to the floor as all the fight leaves me, and he falls on top of me, his weight heavy as he pins me there.

A noise has me lifting my head, and when I see who made it, my breathing stops.

Looking up, I spot Diesel standing at the end of the corridor with a grin on his lips. “Well, well, pretty bird, that was quite a show.”

Throwing back an elbow, I feel it connect with Kenzo as he groans and rolls from me. I scramble to my feet and throw him a glare. “You fuck about as good as you fight,” I snap, before tossing my hair back and, with all the dignity I have left, which is not much, I storm into my room and slam the door.

Pressing against it, my heart racing, I feel his release slip down my thighs as I hear him, both of them, laugh outside.

Fuck.

Chapter Eighteen

DIESEL

I can’t stop thinking about watching her with Kenzo. The way she screamed, the way she fought. It was breathtaking. Her beautiful, bare body writhing against the floor, filled with anger and pleasure. She hated it and loved it at the same time.