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I hate you

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Bryce crossed his arms over his chest and grinned. She looked at the chess board and couldn’t fucking believe it. He beat her. With dumb luck no less. He wasn’t even trying. He was too busy flirting with one of the maids who’d been keeping his drink full.
She huffed and pushed to stand. “Fine, whatever. You win.” She knocked the king over and picked up her glass. “I’d say good game but it wasn’t.”
“Oh come on, babe. Don’t be a sore loser.”
“One, don’t fucking call me ‘babe’, Langley. And two, I’m not being a sore loser. I conceded defeat.”
“You don’t want to avenge your loss?”
“No, I don’t.” He chuckled as she walked away, downing the rest of her wine. She pointedly avoided him the rest of the party.

Most of the others had paired off or passed out. There were a few left, burning through the night. Bryce had low key watched her after their game. She hated him and he couldn’t figure out why. Pretty much the only reason she registered with him was because she had a pretty face, a hot body and a rich grandpa like himself. He didn’t know anything about her. He didn’t really want to. They clearly didn’t move in the same circles despite their affluent status.
He leaned on the door jam, watching her sink the last few billiard balls. He knocked back the rest of the amber liquid in the tumbler and pushed off to stand up straight.
“So why do you hate me?”
She groaned and shook her head. “Why do you care?”
He shrugged. “Curiosity.”
She dropped to the couch. “Fine. If you really wanna know.”
“I really wanna know.” He swung the door closed behind him. The lock clicked into place. She raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
She leaned back, shifting to her body was in a more open position. “For starters, you’re spoiled and rude.”
“Two things of which you are.”
“I’m not rude.”
Bryce dropped the glass onto the table, harder than he might have intended, but he enjoyed the way it made her flinch. “You’re rude to me.”
She sighed and rolled her eyes. He stood over her. No, he loomed over her. That’s what her brain said. “Whatever.”
He grinned. “Go on.”
“You’re arrogant and entitled. You define ‘rich white male privilege’. You’re manipulative. And there’s something I don’t...can’t put my finger on. Something that I just don’t like.”
“Fair enough.” Bryce sat on the edge of the couch. She looked at his eyes.
“See. That right there. You’re smiling but your eyes…” She shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest. “There’s nothing there. They’re cold and empty. You’re a Faberge egg that’s rotten on the inside.”
He sucked his teeth then side-eyed her. He looked down at his hands, flexing them open and closed. “Do I scare you?”
“Scare me?” She shook her head. “Yes? No. I don’t know.” She pushed up to stand and he snatched her wrist and yanked her back down. Faster than her inebriated brain could comprehend, he had her pinned to the couch under his lean, hard body.
“I think you do know.”
“Bryce-“
He held his finger to her lips. “You do know.” She pushed at his shoulders but he caught her wrists and pinned them to the cushion above her head with one hand. He flipped her outer leg open and reached up under her skirt. “You wanna know what I think?”
“No, Bryce. Let me up. Now.”
He clicked his tongue. “I think you hate me but you secretly wanna fuck me. Which makes you hate me more.” She gritted her teeth and glared at him. He laughed, practically in her face. She could feel his hard dick against her thigh. “I’m right.”
“Fuck off.”
“Say it.”
“Fuck you.”
“Say it.” He growled through his teeth.
“Yes, yes, alright. I wanna fuck you. But you’re a horrible fucking person and I can’t stand you. Now, get the fuck off me, Langley.”
“No, I don’t think I will.” The backs of his knuckles brushed against her clothed cunt. She squirmed. “I also think you’re scared of me. What I’ll do to you.” He moved closer as he spoke. “But most of all, that you’ll fucking like it.”
“Bryce, get off me. Now.”
“Why, babe? You know you want this.” He pushed his fingers inside her around the edge of panties. She tried to stop the whimper but couldn’t. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”
“Shut. Up.” She gritted her teeth.
Bryce lazily pumped his fingers in and out of her dripping pussy. “I knew you like this.” He pressed his thumb against her clit. Her back arched and she gasped. “Look at you.” His empty eyes were practically black with his dilated pupils. “Such a dirty little slut. You act all high and mighty. Like you’re fucking better than me. But you fucking like it.”
His fingers made an obscene squelching sound as he fucked her with them, scissoring them to open her up. His thumb continued its assault on her clit. She tried to keep her hips still, not to give him the satisfaction but fuck if he wasn’t good with his hands.
“Goddamn, you’re so fucking sexy for a little bitch.” He lowered his head to mouth her neck and shoulder. She tried to close her leg, the pleasure rising, becoming almost too much for her to hold out. He shoved her leg open again and pinned it open with his knee on her thigh. “No, you fucking don’t. You’re not holding out on me. You’re gonna cum. Just like the good, filthy fucking whore you are. You hear me?” He fucked her harder, pushing his fingers into her sweet spot. “I said did you hear me?”
“Yes! Fuck!” He let go of her wrists and pulled her shirt open, popping a couple of buttons loose. He scooped her tit out of the soft cup of her bra, growling as he covered the hard nipple with his mouth. Her thighs trembled as she fought to stifle the moans of her release.
Bryce hummed in appreciation. “See? That wasn’t so bad.” He lazily pumped his fingers in and out of her again. “I bet it pisses you off that I made you cum.”
“Shut up and get off me, Bryce.”
“We’re not done.” He brought his fingers to his lips and sucked them clean. “How can such an insufferable, spoiled cunt have such a sweet tasting one?”
“Fuck off, Bryce. Get off me.” She bucked up underneath him to attempt to dislodge him.
He snatched her face and forced her to look at him. “I said we’re not done. Are you too fucking stupid to understand that?”
“Fuck. You.”
“I’m about to.”
“Stop, Bryce. Get the fuck off me.” She slapped at his shoulders but he caught her wrists and pinned them to the couch cushion again.
“You keep saying that. But I don’t think that’s what you want.” He squeezed her wrists until pain blossomed and her fingers went numb. He nestled between her thighs and ground his cock bulge into her wet pussy. He lowered his face to hers, resting his cheek along hers. “You don’t want to tell me no because you’re afraid I might actually stop. Isn’t that right?”
“No.”
“No?” He sat up, letting go of her wrists and bracing her thighs open with his knees. He unbuckled his belt and opened his shorts. “No, I’m not right?” He pulled his cock out. Her pussy clenched despite her hatred of him. “Or no you’re not afraid?” His glistening lips parted as he stroked himself. “Or…no you don’t want to tell me no?”
Her breath came in pants. She pushed at his thick arms. “Just get off me, Bryce.”
“No.” He fought her flailing arms as she tried to push him off her. She still didn’t tell him no. Why didn’t she? Was she afraid that he would stop? Or was she more afraid that he wouldn’t? He lined himself up and pushed inside her. She squirmed and tried to close her legs.
“Bryce-“ His hips snapped forward and he filled her. She gasped, cutting off her protest.
“Fuck, you feel so good.” He pulled his hips back, dragging his pulsing length through her stretched walls. “Fuck, you’re so tight. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you aren’t a little slut or whore.” He snapped his hips and took her breath away. “Maybe you’re a little virgin cock tease. Is that it?” His pelvis bumped hers hard, his snapping thrusts filling her hard and deep.
“Fuck you, Bryce.”
“Oh but you are, sweetheart. You are.” He kneaded her breasts roughly, squeezing handfuls and using them as grips as he began to speed up, hitting so deep she threw her head back into the cushions. “Fuck. You like that?” He grunted with his effort. “Fuck, listen to that.” He exaggerated a couple thrusts, the slap of flesh of flesh and the wet squelch of his cock inside her. “Little slut. Little whore. Teasing little bitch. Fucking little cunt. So fucking wet.” Each vile name that slipped from his mouth, he punctuated with a thrust. He released her breast to rub her clit. She braced her feet on his thighs and pushed up under him, crying out.
“Oh fuck. Would you shut the hell up?”
He laughed, slowing his thrusts but going just as hard, just as deep. “Nah. Don’t think I will.” He pulled out of her, causing a gush of fluid to darkened the couch. He manhandled her onto her stomach and jerked her ass up by a grip on her thighs. He teased her pussy with the head of his cock. “I’m gonna fuck you like the little bitch you are.”
“Bryce. Please. Shut the fuck up.” She buried her face in to the cushion. He thrust back into her, hard and fast. She arched her back, tipping her ass up like a cat in heat. He gripped her hips with bruising force, pulling her back onto him when he thrust inside her. She turned to bite her upper arm. He reached down a grabbed a handful of her hair and held her head down into the cushion. His thrusts came faster, harder, more erratic. But he finally listened to her. His taunting abuse gave way to groaning and grunts.
The pressure built in his ass and thighs, drawing up his balls. He was gonna cum. But no way he’d chance getting her pregnant and they hadn’t used a condom. He pulled out and jerked his cock those last few thrusts he needed. Cum rained down on her ass and panties. He was pretty sure some got on the skirt.
He dropped to the couch, breathing heavily. She slowly sat up next to him. She glanced over her shoulder at him. He grinned, lopsided. “That was fun. We should do it again.”
She rolled her eyes and started to stand up. “I hate you, Bryce.” He yanked her down into his lap.
He grabbed her chin to face him. He kissed her hard, shoving his tongue into her mouth as his fingers pressed into her cheeks. “Feelings mutual, babe.”