Typhon

Chapter 21

Stone~

In all honesty, I had never wanted to see Rylee again. I'd been hoping that, even drunk, she'd heed my warning and stay the fuck away from me.

However, she hadn't.

Rylee had shown up at my front door, and it hadn't been to apologize for the texts. It hadn't been to talk shit out, or to explain what the fuck she'd been thinking when she'd sent those texts, or to beg forgiveness or admit to cold feet. She was only here to see if she was clear of any repercussions from the breach of contract. If I'd thought that I couldn't be more pissed at her and this entire situation...well, I'd been wrong.

Still, what really had the evil in me coming out? I had texts on my phone, telling me how she wanted to fuck as many guys as she could, and how I was free to fuck as many girls as I wanted, but she'd lost her shit when she'd thought that Debra had been walking out of my bedroom and not Lennox's.

This bitch had nerve.

"Stone-"

"I know you still feel it," I taunted. "I know you feel the heat from my hand sizzling all over your skin." Rylee did her best to suppress her moan, but it escaped anyway. "If I stuck my hand up that sexy skirt of yours, would your pussy be wet?"

Her blue eyes widened, and that was answer enough, no matter what her lips were saying. "Let me go, Stone," she ordered, and I felt her swallow underneath the hand that I had wrapped around her neck. "You called it off. We're not...not anything anymore."

"Maybe I was a little premature about that," I lied.

Now, while there was no way that I would tie myself to a slut, I still wanted to fuck her. Besides, it was the least that I deserved after the shit that she'd put me through; all the games that she had played and the lies that she'd told.

"Stone, tell me what's going on," she begged softly. "What-"

Her confusion sounded so sincere that I couldn't take it anymore. My hand tightened around her throat, then my lips crashed down on hers, just to shut her the fuck up. She tasted just as delicious as she'd had before I knew she was fake and vapid, and that just pissed me off further.

Still, knowing what she really was did nothing to diminish those emotions that had drawn me to her in the first place. My dick was harder than it'd ever been, and every ounce of blood in my body was on fire for her.

It made me hate her even that much more.

It wasn't until it registered that she wasn't trying to push me away, that my other hand came up and fisted a handful of her black silk. Anchoring her in my hold, the hand that I had around her neck slid downward until her tit was all that I felt.

Rylee's fingers curled in the waistband of my jeans, and she held on as I kept owning her mouth and kneading her heavy tit with my hand. Even as electricity danced down my spine-something that I'd never experienced with anyone else before-I told myself that this was just a hate-fuck, and nothing more.

Pulling away, but our lips still touching, I asked for the consent that I needed, no matter how much I hated this girl. "Say yes, Rylee," I murmured against her lips. "Tell me that I can stick my hand up that skirt of yours to see how wet you are." Rylee moaned into my mouth, and it snapped me out of my rage long enough to pull back, then look into her eyes. "How drunk are you, Rylee?"

Her blue eyes looked dazed, but they weren't as red as they'd been at the party. "I...I'm not drunk anymore," she rasped breathlessly. "I...I'm not."

"Tell me what I need to hear, Rylee," I ordered. I didn't care if a girl was standing on a street corner, and she was holding a sign with her prices on it, no female deserved anything that wasn't given with consent.