Hate to Crave You

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Hate to Crave You Page 9

by Bella Love-Wins


  “Oh, you would have done the same thing,” he said, slashing a hand through the air. “You stabbed me in the back. Don’t act like the injured party here.”

  “Oh, please. I hardly stabbed you in the back. You went snooping through my things.” She paused a brief moment, giving him a pointed glare. “Perhaps it wasn’t you directly, but you arranged it. If you didn’t want to get misled, perhaps you should have waited your turn and played fair. And do not tell me what I would and wouldn’t have done. Just because we’ve had sex a few times that doesn’t mean you know me, Roman.”

  He started to respond, but the words that formed in his throat weren’t ones he wanted to voice just then—not when he was this angry. I want to… He couldn’t tell her that. She’d just take advantage of it.

  Just like she took advantage of his silence, moving in on him and speaking in a lowered voice. “You know, you could stand to grow up a little. Weren’t you the one talking about how you didn’t care for this stupid feud going on between our families? Or was that part of the act? Another fairy tale like the one you made up about us knowing each other back when we were kids?”

  “Hey…” He held up a hand, ready to correct her.

  She cut him off. “I’m not angry. It’s not like I’m going to hold a grudge or anything. It was business. What we have now is personal…unless you decide otherwise. If that’s going to be the case, tell me now and I’ll go.”

  She gave him a cool look.

  He almost did tell her something—he almost corrected her mistaken belief that he’d made up the story about them spending time together in the hospital. But in the end, he just gestured to the building. She turned on her heel and strode inside.

  He followed after her, but when she stopped at the main elevator bank, he caught her arm and tugged her along after him. “I have a private elevator.” He guided her to it, punching in his code and as he waited for it to arrive, he wondered if maybe he should have just told her to leave.

  But she slid a look his way, her eyes dropping to linger on his mouth.

  The doors to the elevator slid open and they stepped inside.

  She brushed past him and he caught the scent of her skin.

  He’d had the scent on his sheets up until his housekeeper washed them yesterday and it had driven him slightly mad.

  Anger still burned inside him and abruptly, he turned on her. Simultaneously, he reached out and pushed the stop button on the elevator. Her eyes swept to his just as he caught her arms and pulled her to him. “Come here,” he demanded.

  Her eyes widened at the starkness of his tone, but she acquiesced. Her mouth was soft under his as he brought his lips down on hers and he ignored the weak moan that escaped her when he drove his tongue deep. He didn’t want soft and sweet right now.

  Her hands curled into the lapels of his coat and he caught her wrists, wrenched them away and pinned them together in one hand, pressing them to the wall overhead.

  “Roman,” she whispered.

  “Be quiet.” He kissed a stinging line down her throat to the vee neck of her sweater, irritated when the neckline barred him from tasting more of her flesh. He shoved his hand under the hem and pushed it up, baring her breasts. “I’m going to taste your tits.”

  “We’re in the elevator.”

  “Already told you,” he said, freeing the front clasp of her bra. “It’s a private elevator.” Then he slanted a dark look up at her. “Unless you want to leave.”

  Her lashes fluttered, then she sagged back against the wall. Taking it as submission, he lowered his head. With his free hand, he cupped one breast in his hand, lifting it high for his mouth. He tasted her with teeth and tongue and she was soon arching against him, her spine a long, slim bow. She tugged against his restraining hands.

  “I want to touch you,” she pleaded.

  He didn’t respond as he reached down with his free hand to draw the long denim skirt she wore up. But there were too many clothes between them, the layers an irritation and he finally did release her hands, straightening to reach for the button of the skirt. It fell to her ankles, revealing her to be wearing a skimpy pair of pale ivory panties and chocolate brown boots that went well over her knees.

  He grabbed the panties, fisting his hands in the silky strings that stretched over her hips and he tore, renting the material and letting it fall to the floor of the elevator.

  She was bared to him now and he cupped her in his hand, bracing the other by her head.

  Julianna gasped, arching against him. She was wet and slid against his fingers, sleek and ready.

  That was all he needed.

  He pulled a condom from his pocket. As he unzipped, she pressed a hand to his chest. “Let’s go up to your place,” she whispered.

  “Here’s fine.” He caught her around the waist and boosted her up, cutting her response off with a hot, wet kiss that soon had her moaning and rubbing against him.

  He angled his hips and reached between them, grasping his cock.

  He thrust deep and hard and when she cried out, he swallowed the sound down.

  She was like a fever in his blood, a drug in his system and it pissed him off that he still wanted her.

  Tearing his mouth away, he stared down at her. When she would have kissed him again, he fisted his hand in her hair and kept his gaze locked on hers as he rode her, telling himself it wasn’t anything more than sex. She was hot, she was fuckable and she wanted him. What guy wouldn’t enjoy that?

  But she shuddered against him and her lashes swept low, a blush rising up on her cheeks, forming a picture that he knew he’d carry with him for a long time.

  “Damn you,” he muttered, dragging her mouth back to his.

  “Roman…” She moaned into his mouth, her pussy tightening around his cock.

  He clamped one hand over her ass, tilting the angle of her hips up as he shortened his thrusts, filling her with hard, deep digs of his cock.

  “Tell me you want this,” he demanded against her mouth.

  “I want this,” she said, the words coming out in a series of short pants.

  Her eyes glittered as they stared into his.

  Chills raced down his spine as her pussy started to clench around him, the precursors to her climax. “Don’t come yet,” he warned her.

  But she got tighter and tighter and with a curse, he pulled out of her and lowered her legs to the ground. “Turn around.” He urged her on with quick movement of his hands and once her back was to him, he placed a hand on her spine and nudged her forward. “Grab the bar.”

  Now, head bowed and ass lifted for him, she waited, her entire body trembling. Roman caught one cheek and spread her open, holding his cock steady as he pressed the head to her entrance, angled his hips and surged deep.

  She bounced up on her toes and cried out, spine undulating as he filled her.

  He reared back, then thrust forward again, one hand coming up to tangle in her hair.

  Julianna whimpered out his name. He blocked the sound off, cut off everything that wasn’t the hot, snug grasp of her cunt around his cock. She started to come and he wasn’t far behind her. He caught her hips and pulled her back snug against him and held her there as he emptied himself. She shuddered and rocked against him, twisting her head around to kiss him. He didn’t yield and her lips fell across his chin.

  Only seconds after the climax had ended, he pulled out and zipped up. His cock was still hard. He could have fucked her for hours, but that wasn’t happening. Not tonight.

  He was still furious.

  “Now, that was fun,” he said tauntingly.

  Julianna slowly turned around, still leaning against the bar. Her expression showed both her understanding of his sneer and her disappointment that he’d seen fit to say something so obnoxious and, fuck, he couldn’t blame her.

  Reaching toward the panel, he was hesitant on which button to push. “Look, I—”

  Julianna shook her head as she cut him off, saying, “I’ve got early meetings
tomorrow, let’s call it a night.” Part of him wanted to protest, to insist she stay, yet he knew she was right. Yes, he was still pissed, but if he were honest, she wasn’t who had him seeing red.

  Bending forward to reach the floor, he picked up her skirt and passed it to her. As she pulled it on, he hit the button for the first floor. Watching her drive away in another cab, he felt more than remorse at his behavior—he felt a sense of loss that had nothing to do with business.

  14

  Roman

  I knew she’d be back, Roman thought the following night.

  He’d felt it in his gut long before the concierge downstairs had called up to announce that he had a guest. But it was late. So late that he chose to stay in bed, and instructed the concierge to show Julianna in. By the time she made it to him in the bedroom, he was wide awake. Rage had a way of getting his mind going. She stood at the side of his bed, her brown doe eyes big and wide, pleading up at him for forgiveness, begging for what they used to have to stay the same.

  It was too fucking late for that.

  She had another thing coming if she thought this time would be like the last.

  He wasn’t going to be soft or gentle.

  Not after what she’d done to his heart.

  He gave her shoulders a shove, pushing her onto the bed. As he got in beside her, he flipped her onto her stomach and tugged down the zipper of the rich red strapless ball gown she had worn to whatever event she was at earlier in the evening. The force of his movement caused a small tear where the zipper stopped, and he felt a hint of satisfaction.

  I ruined her dress.

  Like she ruined us.

  Turning her onto her back, he dragged the dress off of her completely. He used to love staring at her delicate lines and creamy skin. Under the soft light glowing in through the windows at night, she’d always been perfection.

  But now, he couldn’t stand to look at her beauty. Not when he knew her own flesh and blood had a hand in turning him into the bad guy. Now, she was just like every other woman who had an agenda when they climbed into his bed.

  Her legs parted slightly and he ripped her silky panties off her hips. He did the same with her bra next, and lowered to one breast, sucking her nipple in between his lips. He flicked his tongue across her puckered flesh. She writhed under him, panting for breath, and he threw the shredded fabric clear across the room when he remembered why he was here.

  It was to use her perfect fucking body.

  To break her.

  Like she’d done to him.

  She stared up at him, bare, vulnerable. She was filled with lust, but there was a bit of something else in her gaze.

  Fear.

  Good.

  She fucking should be afraid.

  Her breath hitched as he grazed callused palms up the sides of her legs. Stopping at her waist, he turned her onto her stomach and raised her ass high into air. Yes, he fucking wanted her, but he was done staring at that face, and those lips that spun lies with such ease.

  "Roman," she whispered his name on a breath.

  Undoing his belt buckle, he unbuttoned the waistband, lowered his zipper, and found the strip of three condoms in the pocket of his slacks. He planned on using these up on her tonight.

  I'll fuck her.

  Then I'll do it again, and once more to make her raw before I send her on her way.

  He wanted her to remember what it felt like to be owned one minute and discarded the next.

  Desired then tossed away.

  Trusted then betrayed.

  She needed to feel it.

  He released his raging erection and gave it a tug. He was almost angry at the sight of a bead of precum at the tip, because it was for her. He silently told himself that he might have been hard as fuck for her, but she didn’t own him. Not after what she’d done. He rolled a condom on, and with a feather light touch, slid a hand across her stomach and down between the tops of her thighs. Cupping her mound, he was rough and abrupt when he curved two thick fingers between her hot folds.

  With a hiss of a sigh, she pressed her backside onto his groin. Her tight walls rode his fingers, sucking them into her while grinding her ass against his swollen, rigid cock.

  She wanted more.

  Needed it.

  And fuck, she would get it like an animal needing to scratch an itch. But it wouldn't mean a thing. Not like it could have.

  He palmed her ass cheek and spread them apart, positioning the tip at her slick, glistening center. He dragged his length along her folds, teasing her, extending her anticipation, driving her need so high that she begged for it.

  "Please," she hummed.

  "Please what?" he asked.

  "Please fuck me, Roman... I need you... Don't make me wait."

  He smiled a little, knowing that he had her where he wanted her.

  She needs me.

  But I'm done needing her.

  This is just damn good sex now that she shredded me.

  She just doesn't know it yet.

  "I want you... so bad," she called out on a breathy whimper.

  It had only been a couple of days since the last time he’d taken her, but tonight was the first time he’d fuck her. This time, he felt nothing.

  Just a dull numbness in his heart and anger around his chest.

  "How bad?" he asked her on a raspy groan that reminded him how fucking bad he wanted her too.

  “So bad, baby... I can’t do without—"

  Before she finished her sentence, he sank balls deep into her tightness, entering with a sharp jerk she hadn’t expected. Fuck, she felt so fucking good, so tight and wet around him.

  She gripped fistfuls of the bedsheets as he pounded into her, her face now buried into the mattress. He was relentless. One hand dug dull fingernails into her hips while the other anchored her to him from the nape of her neck. He claimed and reclaimed every inch of her, making sure she came for him a few times before he threw her away. Both were sure to leave a mark that would last longer than ever. Good.

  Soon, the fused scent of their sweat and her arousal, and the sound of her screams and their slick skin slapping together overtook all his thoughts. Pleasure rolled through him as he fucked her and his rage into oblivion. And when he was done, he climbed off of her, cleaned up in the bathroom, rolled on another condom, and started again.

  She wouldn’t be able to shake the memory of tonight once he was done with her. She’d be fucking ruined. And after that, when she realized what she lost, she'd be gutted.

  Like she’d done to him.

  15

  Julianna

  Here we are again, Julianna thought as she took the chair next to her father.

  The Montrose team was already seated and ready to go. She glanced at Roman, but he was staring at a spot on the floor, pointedly ignoring her. Michael glanced her way, aloofness written all over his face.

  “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen,” Edgar Templeton said as he strode into the boardroom.

  They were back at the same luxury hotel where they’d met several days earlier, in the same boardroom and it appeared even the same staff were available, offering coffee and croissants to anybody who might be hungry. Julianna accepted the offer of coffee but her nerves were strung too tight for her to eat anything.

  She wished Roman would look at her.

  She also sort of wished she’d not simply climbed into the cab after the elevator incident the other day. She wasn’t a fool. She’d known the instant she arrived at his place that he was angry. Hell, he was practically strumming with it. He’d brought her over to toy with her, to fuck her, and when he’d snarled about how fun it had been, she’d felt disappointment and yet she found she couldn’t exactly blame him for throwing her words back into her face.

  And she missed him.

  How could she miss somebody she’d only spoken with a handful of times?

  She didn’t know, but it was the truth of it and that was a huge part of why nerves were dancing around inside her
belly.

  She missed the stupid jerk.

  “Your coffee, ma’am.”

  The voice from just behind her caught her off guard and she almost knocked the steaming brew out of the woman’s hand as she turned around. “Ah, sorry. My mind was wandering,” she said, forcing a smile. She glanced at the woman’s name tag. “My apologies, Sally.”

  “Of course. No trouble.” Sally offered cream and sugar, then finished up her rounds of the room before discreetly exiting.

  Once she was gone, Templeton rose from his seat at the head of the table.

  “Let’s cut right to the chase.” He braced his hands on the surface of the dark, mahogany surface and looked from Julianna and her father over to Roman and Michael Montrose. “I’ve reviewed the bids and I’ll be blunt. They aren’t even close to the actual worth of the prototype and the mines.”

  Julianna sensed her father’s surprise.

  Because of where she was sitting, she could see the faint reaction Roman had before he hid it. She probably wouldn’t have noticed it before she’d spent time with him, but now, seeing the fine tightening around his eyes and mouth was as clear as night and day to her. His father’s face remained unreadable, but she had no doubt that Michael wasn’t pleased either.

  “The practical aspects of the prototype you both had a chance to study…” Edgar spread his hands wide and shook his head. “Just from those alone, you stand to increase your company’s net worth exponentially. I won’t bother to ask if your teams ran the appropriate tests. I’m sure you did.”

  His gaze slid to the Montrose side of the table.

  Was it Julianna’s imagination or did his gaze linger on Roman overlong?

  Then he was looking at her and her father briefly before continuing. “And I expect you put into consideration the value of the mines. When I estimate the worth of my company’s new tech and those mines…your two bids together aren’t enough.” He shook his head, looking the faintest bit disgruntled.

  “You do realize that the returns in mining are diminishing, don’t you, Edgar?” Michael said, waving a hand as if nothing Edgar had said meant much of anything. “The figures get smaller every single year.”

 

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