Unattainable (Undeniable, #3)(30)

Especially when all that hate she’d been spewing for all these years had very little to do with her mother. That shit was all on him. So, first he was going to tell her how ridiculous this hard-on for hating him was, that he’d been only nineteen years old, for Christ’s sake, and what the f*ck had she expected. This shit had been going on way too long and it was well past time she shut the f*ck up for two goddamn seconds and let him get a word in, let him apologize, because, f*ck yeah, he’d been a dick, he knew it, everyone knew it, and it was time they aired it out.

Then he was going to f*ck her. He wasn’t sure why he was always so suddenly f*ck-happy around her, but f*ck, there it was.

Maybe because she made him goddamn crazy with her f*cking bullshit, to the point where he wanted to punch a motherf*cking hole straight through her pert little face. But he didn’t really want to kill her, so punching a hole through her * seemed like the next best alternative.

Or maybe it was because he didn’t remember the first time they f*cked and every encounter with her since then had come with a box of misery wrapped up in a big bow of despair.

Or maybe it was because he couldn’t f*cking stand seeing the woman, who as a girl had looked upon him like the sun had rose and set with him, now looking at him like he was the biggest piece of shit she’d ever met.

Like his father looked at him.

So, yeah, he was going to tell her off, set her straight, and then f*ck her so damn hard she forgot not only that she hated him but her goddamn name as well. And then he’d walk the f*ck away, leaving her begging for more.

At least, that had been the original plan until she’d refused to shut the f*ck up. Until she’d slapped him across the face. Until she’d continued to run her mouth, every word coming out of it making him feel like a bigger piece of shit.

Cage lost it. His brain blanked out and his emotions took control. The next thing he knew he was tackling her, forcing her down to the ground, onto her back, yanking her flimsy green tank top up, baring her small breasts, roughly palming them before grabbing handfuls of her long skirt and shoving it up over her ass. He ripped her underwear to one side and pulled open his leathers.

“I’ll remember this time, bitch,” he gritted out, palming his cock.

“Fuck you, *,” she said angrily. “Fuck you!”

Seething, bursting at the seams with anger, more than sick of this bullshit with her and not really aware of what he was doing but at the same time aware that she wasn’t fighting him, he grabbed her calves, bent her knees, and pushed her legs open, maneuvering his hips so the tip of his cock hit her *. Sliding it over her slit, he positioned himself at her entrance.

“Fuck you?” he shouted. “You f*ckin’ got it!”

He pushed hard. Pulled back out and pushed harder. Pulling back out, he pushed again, finally sliding inside of her. Three more times and he was fully seated, her * clamped tightly around him as he glared down at her.

“You feel that, you mouthy little cunt? You feel my small f*ckin’ cock stretchin’ your shit wide open?”

Pulling nearly all the way out of her, he slammed back inside.

Tegen’s lips trembled and her eyes squeezed shut. Cage watched a tear slide from her left eye and down the side of her face, disappearing into her hair. His thoughts took a tire-squealing turn in a different direction and he stopped moving and just stared down at her. What the f*ck was he doing? Had he lost his f*cking mind?

He’d just attacked her!

Cursing, he went to move, ready to pull out of her and get the f*ck away from her, when her eyes suddenly flew open and she reared up, grabbing hold of his biceps and squeezing.

“No,” she breathed.

For a moment they only stared at each other, unblinking, not moving.

But while he was staring down at her, into her almond-shaped bright green eyes, taking in her milky white skin glowing in the moonlight, and seeing her lips, pale pink, parted, breathing in…and out…and in…and out, her breath quickening the longer he stared.

He felt a new feeling, one he didn’t recognize. It was lust, but not the sort of lust derived from a giant pair of tits bouncing in front of his face, or because his cock was getting stroked through his leathers, or because some bitch’s skirt was riding up and he was getting a sneak peek of ass.

It wasn’t anger-or adrenaline-fueled. He didn’t know what it was.

But his body did. It recognized something in her and responded in kind, excitement filling his stomach. He breathed in again, suddenly recognizing these responses, remembering them, but also knowing it had been a hundred women ago the last time he’d felt them.

“Teacup,” he rasped, reaching up to cup the side of her face. “You’ve never let me say it before, babe, but I really am sorry for what I did.”

“No, you’re not,” she whispered, trying to turn away from his grip on her face. His thumb shot out under her chin and locked her in place.

“Yeah,” he continued. “I am. I was nineteen. I was a f*ckin’ * and it shouldn’t have gone down like that. For your first time, baby, you deserved a lot f*ckin’ better than me.”

Her mouth fell open and his thumb, already on her chin, slid inside and pulled her bottom lip down.

When she said nothing, made no protest either verbally or physically, just stared up at him unblinking, he quickly bent his head and covered her mouth with his. His tongue slid inside and a soft moan escaped her throat. Her mouth opened further for him and his hand moved, gripped her hair, while the other ran down her back, over her hip, and under her thigh, stopping on one small, firm ass cheek, and squeezed.