Who Breaks First (Clearwater University)

This isn’t just a kiss.

It’s a fist-fight with lips. A war. A challenge.

“What the fuck are you doing, Holloway?” I mutter into her mouth, hiking her against me again, grinding my cock against her softness.

How can she be so soft? I know the hard edges are there. The cruelty. The lies.

But all I feel right now is the softness, and I want to bury myself inside of her, to pound into her until I can see the truth again.

I need to fucking come inside her. Then maybe I’ll be able to see with clear eyes.

“I thought you wanted a truce, Cooper,” she murmurs harshly, her lips barely pulling away from mine long enough to speak. She’s pouring her words into my mouth, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d think they were laced with poison.

But I drink them down anyway, spinning her so that her back is to the door before slamming her against it, sliding my leg between hers and grinding into her, lifting her against me until I swear I can feel the hard nub of her clit against my thigh.

She rips her mouth away from mine, her chocolate eyes flying wide in shock as a low moan falls from her lips.

I grin triumphantly.

That’s right, little liar. You don’t get to win this time.

Grasping her face with one hand, I keep her pinned to me with the other, using the door for leverage as I move against her, working my thigh harder against her clit. I can feel her jaw clenching rhythmically as she presses her lips together, trying to deny me the noises I know she wants to make.

But she can’t deny me for long.

As I push her higher and higher, her mouth finally drops open, and she sucks in little gasping breaths of air that make her chest heave against mine. Little mewling cries fall from her lips, and she tries to shake her head, but I don’t release my grip.

“I did want a fresh start, Ems,” I murmur. Her nickname makes my cock throb even harder, aching to bury itself inside her. Her body is starting to shake, and I want to feel her clench around me, want to feel how tight she gets when she comes like a fucking train. “I wanted a clean slate. So why the hell are you acting so dirty.”

“I’m not… the one…” She’s losing the power of speech, her eyes rolling back in her head as she gets close to the precipice. Her cheeks are flushed, her pink lips parted, quivering slightly as she tries to force words out. “You’re dirty…”

“You’re goddamn right about that, Holloway.” I slam my mouth against hers, stepping back just enough to create an inch of space between us, and then I shove her negligee up and cup her pussy, grinding the heel of my hand against her sensitized clit.

“You want to lie to me again?” I whisper challengingly, moving with deliberate slowness as I shove my hand under the waistband of her panties and slide two fingers inside her, pressing in past the first and second knuckles before hooking both fingers. “You want to tell me you don’t want this?”

For a moment, her whole body seems to give in to me, melting beneath my touch. Her brown eyes soften with want. With desire.

With need.

Then a smile tilts her lips, and she bucks her hips against me, driving my fingers even deeper inside her slick channel and making my cock harden so much I think I might pass out.

“What makes you think I don’t want this, Trent?” The word ends on a groan she can’t quite disguise. “Now are you gonna make me come, or do I have to do it myself?”

Oh, you asked for it now, Emma Holloway.

I’m not inexperienced with women, to put it mildly. I know how to get them over the finish line with a few signature moves, how to make their toes curl—and I

like doing it.

But that’s not good enough for this girl.

The girl who broke my heart in a dozen different ways, who made me love her and then lied to me? She comes when and how I say she comes.

So, no. I don’t put her out of her misery just because she learned how to throw down a taunt.

I find her g-spot, and I work it until she’s just at the edge, her pussy swollen and dripping over my hand, weeping, begging for mercy. But right before she gets there, I stop and switch back to torturing her clit, tracing unpredictable patterns with the pads of my fingers as I mirror the action with my tongue, kissing her until she’s whimpering into my mouth.

I’m not holding her against the door anymore. I don’t have to. She’s using it herself, sliding her body against the hard wood as she chases my touch, kissing me and kissing me like she’ll die if she stops.