Chapter 31 Hate him
KAREN’s POV
“You’re a sick psycho,” I hissed, my voice trembling with defiance as I glared at him from where I sat, tense and breathless. Jaden didn’t move. He just stared at me, his expression unreadable, like a predator deciding how best to tame its prey.
The silence stretched thick between us, vibrating with tension. My heart pounded painfully in my chest as I waited for his next move, unsure if he’d laugh or lash out. But instead of either, he leaned forward, slow, deliberate and opened the drawer of the bedside table.
The quiet pop of a cap echoed louder than it should have. Then I felt it — something cool, slick, and unmistakably deliberate being rubbed between my thighs. My breath hitched.
“Damn you…” I whispered, shuddering at the contact.
“Don’t fight what you already feel,” he said lowly, voice dipped in heat and authority.
Then, without warning, his palm struck my backside not cruelly, but firmly enough to make me jolt in shock. I gasped, partly from the sting and partly from the heat it sent spiraling through my body. I tried to scramble out of his grip, but he was stronger, holding me steady.
Before I could speak, he plunged two fingers inside me. I gasped again, shocked by how ready my body already was, slick and aching despite everything.
He moved with experience, each stroke purposeful, knowing. He flicked my clit, making my thighs twitch involuntarily, and pinched it softly at the end, pulling a helpless moan from my throat.
“Do you remember what I told you?” he murmured, his fingers trailing down with unnerving precision, stopping just shy of another entrance. I stiffened.
“No,” I whispered breathlessly, even though I remembered. Of course I remembered. His voice had burned it into me the first time — that I’d always end up beneath him.
But this time, I wouldn’t let it be true.
I twisted sharply and pushed against his chest, finally breaking free of his lap. I tumbled onto the rug, hands scraping against the coarse fibers as I tried to crawl away. My knees burned. The rug bit into my skin as I scrambled forward.
But Jaden caught my ankle, dragging me back with terrifying ease. I screamed in frustration as he flipped me, pinning me down with his body and a hand braced between my shoulder blades.
“Here’s how this is going to go,” he said, his breath warm against the back of my neck. “You’re going to stop pretending you don’t want this, and you’re going to make up for that bratty attitude of yours.”
His voice was too calm, too level. It made something twist inside me, fear, yes, but also something hotter, darker.
He tugged my hair gently, lifting my chest from the floor until I was arching against him, held by his grip and my own pounding heartbeat.
“Right now, you can please me by apologizing,” he said, running a hand over my backside with slow, possessive strokes. “Karen…”
I didn’t answer.
A sharp squeeze made me flinch.
“I said—apologize.”
“Sorry,” I spat, seething with frustration. At myself. At him. At how my body betrayed me again and again.
“Sorry who?” His lips ghosted the shell of my ear. “You can do better than that.”
I clenched my jaw, mind full of things I wanted to say that would only get me punished more.
Another smack. I whimpered, not just from the sting, but from the burn building low in my stomach. My legs trembled.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered finally, voice barely audible.
“Good girl,” he said, pressing a kiss to the back of my neck. His lips lingered, trailing lower, tracing fire down my spine.
“Good girl…” he repeated, the words like silk and chains all at once. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
His fingers returned to my clit, rubbing in slow, maddening circles. Despite everything, I was wet, shamefully, infuriatingly wet. My body was reacting, even as my mind tried to fight it.
“Why does this feel so wrong?” I muttered, teeth clenched. “Why does it work?”
“Because it’s supposed to,” he growled. “Because your body knows who it belongs to.”
“I don’t belong to anyone,” I snapped.
He chuckled low in his throat. “We’ll see.”
Then, without warning, he flipped me over so I was straddling him. I gasped, bracing my hands against his chest. He was burning hot beneath me, his cock hard and waiting beneath his pants. I could feel him through the fabric, every pulse and ridge.
“Do you want my cock inside you, baby?” he asked, voice like molten steel.
I glared down at him. “I hate you. I fucking hate you.”
“I hate that I need you this much,” he whispered back, hands gripping my hips as he guided me downward.
I should’ve pulled away. I should’ve fought. But I didn’t.
His tip found me, and I was too slick to stop him from sliding in.
I moaned not from pain, not really from the fullness, the shocking intensity of how right it felt. My fingers dug into his shoulders. I hated him. I hated myself. But I couldn’t stop the reaction.
“You’ve gone too far,” I whispered, eyes glassy.
“As an Alpha, I need to claim what’s mine.”
“I’m on birth control,” I said breathlessly.
“You’re not,” he growled. “Not anymore.”
He pulled me down farther, bottoming out inside me. My breath hitched. He didn’t move, just held me there pulsing, throbbing his eyes boring into mine.
Then he began to move, slowly at first, bouncing me in his lap while kissing the curve of my neck. His mouth found my nipples and he sucked one into his mouth, making me cry out. I didn’t want it. I did. I didn’t know anymore.
“I need to feel you cum around me, Karen,” he rasped. “Let go for me.”
His thumb found my clit, rubbing hard, precise little circles. His rhythm was relentless. He thrust up into me while pulling me down, angling deeper with every motion.
I felt it. I hated that I felt it. That tight coil, that building pleasure. It overwhelmed everything else , the fear, the hate, the defiance. I clawed at his chest, then clung to him. My hips moved on their own.
“Come for me,” he demanded, his voice pure dominance.
And I did.
I shattered in his arms, crying out, body locking around him as the orgasm took me.
He groaned my name, holding me tightly, burying himself deeper. His control snapped. He thrust once, twice more then came with a grunt, his body shaking against mine.
We collapsed together, sticky and breathless.
My knees burned. My backside throbbed. And yet, some part of me the twisted, broken part felt safer now than I ever had before.
I hated him.
I wanted him.
And I knew this wasn’t over.
Not even close.