Undercover Hate

Chapter Six: I'm Not Complaining, I Promise

"Cole," I sigh, his head between my thighs, the tension in my body growing unbearable. My fingers tangle in his hair, tugging, half in frustration and half in pleasure. I'm pretty sure if I keep this up, I'm going to crush his skull, but I can't stop myself. The need inside me is overwhelming.

"Do you even have any idea how sweet you taste?" Cole's voice is a low growl, the vibrations from his words sending shockwaves through my entire body. His hands grip my hips firmly, holding me down despite my writhing, as if daring me to give in completely. He's in control, and he knows it.

"God, you're insufferable," I mutter, breathless, but the words lack any real bite. His mouth is doing wicked things to me, and I'm trying desperately to hold on to the last shred of control I have left.

"You're not complaining," he smirks against me, glancing up through hooded eyes, his lips glistening.

I arch my back, fighting against the mounting pleasure. "I'm... trying to stay quiet," I gasp, struggling to keep my composure. Whimpering now would be a victory for him, and I'm not about to hand over that kind of satisfaction. Not yet, anyway. But damn, he's making it hard.

Cole chuckles, the sound dark and sinful, like he's enjoying the power he has over me way too much. His grip tightens on my hips, dragging me closer, his tongue working me over in slow, torturous strokes. I raise my hips instinctively, my body betraying me, but he's relentless, keeping me pinned down, keeping me on the edge.

My head falls back against the pillows, and I bite my lip to stifle a moan, my whole body trembling with the need to let go. "Cole," I say again, this time more desperate, the word hanging in the air like a plea.

He doesn't stop, doesn't let up, and my resolve is crumbling fast. "Come on, Adriana," he teases, his breath hot against my skin. "You know you want to. Just let go."

I hate how smug he sounds, how certain he is that I'll break. But the worst part? He's right.

My chest rises and falls with ragged breaths, and I'm gripping the sheets so hard my knuckles are white. I try to focus, try to hold back the inevitable, but it's useless. My body is betraying me. It's like every nerve is on fire, and he's the one holding the match.

"Fuck," I whisper, my hips bucking against his face despite my best efforts to stay in control.

His tongue circles around my clit one last time, and I can't hold back anymore. A low, guttural moan escapes my lips, and I hate myself for it, for giving him the satisfaction. But, God, it feels too good to care. My body shudders, the orgasm ripping through me like a tidal wave, and Cole doesn't stop until every last tremor has subsided.

When I finally come back down, breathless and dazed, he pulls away, grinning like the cocky bastard he is. He wipes the corner of his mouth, his eyes dark with satisfaction. "Told you I'd get you there," he says, his voice rough with lust.

I roll my eyes, trying to regain some of my dignity, but it's a lost cause. "Yeah, yeah," I mutter, still panting. "Don't let it go to your head."

"Oh, it's already there," he replies, climbing up the bed until he's hovering over me, his body warm and solid against mine. "And I'm not done with you yet."

Before I can respond, his mouth is on mine, urgent and hungry. His kiss is searing, as if he's trying to consume every part of me. My head spins with the intensity of it, the taste of my own body still lingering on his lips. His hand trails down my body, fingers skimming my waist, my thighs, before gripping me tighter, pulling me impossibly closer.

I can feel him, hard and ready beneath me, and the fire that's been burning inside me reignites. My nails dig into his back, desperate to feel him, to take control this time. I'm done playing passive.