Perfect Obsession

Chapter 14* || I Don't Know What Made Me Do It

𝐑 𝐎 𝐌 𝐀 𝐍' 𝐒   𝐏 𝐎 𝐕

I don't know what made me do it.

Maybe it was the fact I wanted to shut her up, the guys had gotten into my head the other day, or the fact our arguing had built up so much tension in the room that it needed to be released and it was this or punching the wall...which would then result in my mom punching me.

Either way, she didn't expect it coming.

My hands rest on her cheeks, my lips pressed firmly against her soft, full ones as she remains frozen in place. Pulling back, our faces are close together and I don't remove my hands. Her brown eyes stare up into mine.

Confusion now replaces the anger that was there only a moment ago. We don't move. Both of us are close enough to hear each other's breathing as the house remains silent around us. The candles that surround the house still burn, flickering against the soft tan of her face, allowing me to focus in on her features.

After an internal battle, her lips roughly reconnect with mine, this time stunning me. Her hands come to my waist pulling me towards her and as I regain my senses, I kiss her back, fisting her hair in my hands as she moans at my roughness. The sound going straight to my groin.

This is not some sweet, love-making moment in a house lit with candles and a snowstorm brewing outside. Instead, this is going to be rough sex fueled by our anger towards one another and that's all it would be. No feelings, no emotions, just a method to get our anger out. Something Hollywood also knows, considering how hard she is kissing me.

No one ever said you have to like someone to have sex with them.

Bending down to grab the back of her legs, I hoist her up and she immediately wraps her slender legs around my torso before I back her into a wall. A gasp escapes her lips as I push her against the wall, her head falling back onto it, allowing me perfect access to her neck.

My lips press against her pulse point of her neck, sucking and biting as my hands squeeze the round globes off her ass and she grinds our lower halves together. Pants leave her mouth as we dry hump against the wall like teenagers, and her hand grips my hair before tugging my head back and crashing her lips back onto mine.

Carrying her away from the wall, she detaches our lips before pulling her top over her head, throwing it somewhere that neither of us cares about. Her generous sized breasts spill out of the thin scrap of lace covering her chest, but I have little time to look as she leans in to kiss me again, her hair forming a curtain around us.

"I still hate you," Rosalie murmurs against my lips.

"Trust me, the feeling is mutual," I respond. "Couch or floor?"

"Floor."

Floor it is. Laying her down on the rug that covers the hardwood floor, I climb over her and in-between her legs. Immediately, her hands tug my shirt up and over my head and her hands work on my belt.

While she works on that, I pepper kisses along her exposed chest area not covered by her bra while my hand generously squeezes her breast through the lace. She tugs down my jeans and I kick them off before I help her tug hers off.

Both of us now in our underwear, or whatever you want to call the tiny things covering her. She surprises me when she pushes me back and climbs onto my lap before undoing her bra.

Throwing it somewhere, her breasts fall into my awaiting hands that are ready to squeeze and tease her bare breasts and nipples. Her head falls back, and she groans as I spend some time on her breasts, clearly sensitive if the noises coming from her are any sign. I groan myself as her hand reaches down into my boxers and wraps around my already very hard dick.