Hate Is An Evil Type Of Love

4. Change

I fake pouted when he refused to explain. Then, a smile sprouted again when I thought of something that would definitely make him spill.
"Oh well," I shrugged, "I've got to get home now anyway." I pretended to start leaving.

That did the trick.
"What?! No! I thought you said you didn't want to go back there?" Peter asked quickly, not wanting to let me go just yet.
I laughed, "I'll only stay if you tell."
I know I'm going to stay regardless, but I really want to know what he was 'right about' as he had said earlier.

He huffed, the bangs in his eyes blowing violently at his sudden release of breath to his face.
"Please?" I said, leaning closer to him to fuck with his head even more.
"Nah, it's stupid."
"I won't laugh."
"You will."
"I won't!"
"How do I know you won't?"

I sighed, "You didn't laugh at my 'Shakespeare' earlier, so I won't laugh at whatever it is you're hiding. Promise." He smiled.
"I just...when you were spewing poetry like it was nothing, it made me think of when I first started liking you. And...it made me think, I was right to pick you." I blushed at his confession.

"I do not 'spew' poetry!" I jokingly yelled.
He laughed, "After a whole goddamn confession, which I painstaking put together by the way, that's what you caught?" He joked back.
He smiled when I laughed. Our faces are only centimeters apart now, and all I can think about is how much I want to kiss him.

To feel the touch of his lips against mine. To see his face turn red again.
He beat me to it though, pressing his soft, pink lips to mine. I closed my eyes, feeling the smoothness of his skin of his lips, the gentleness of it brushing against me.
I pulled myself closer to him, wanting more.

Wanting to know him better.
His tongue ran on the tip of my bottom lip, asking for entrance. I hesitated, not sure if I was ready to take the leap.
I thought of him, of how he had opened up so easily to me, and of how he had been there when I needed him.
That was enough to convince myself to at least try.

I slowly parted my lips, letting his tongue explore every inch of my mouth. Breathing was getting harder and quicker as the powerful wanting grew in the air.
I pushed my body closer to him, letting his arms wrap around me.
His hands were running up and down the small of my back as our make out session grew more intense, more anxious to get closer to each other.

I could feel my boxers getting tight, the dizziness getting stronger, and the pounding in my head and my heart accelerating.
He pulled away from the kiss, "God, you're such a great kisser." He muttered as we lay down, once again, onto the gray covers.
I lay on top of him, panting heavily, "Guess you really made the right choice, huh?"

"Oh, we're not finished yet." Peter whispered huskily into my ear.
He kisses my ear, my cheek, my neck as he mutters, "I want to hold you, and never let you go. Baby, I want to kiss you forever, until your lips are red and swollen." The soft voice of Peter talking dirty to me was starting to make me so horny.

I lightly moaned when he bit on my collarbone, sucking and pulling on my skin.
"Mmh, I like it when you make those sounds, baby. I wonder what you'll scream when I'm fucking you." He whispers harshly.
He turns us over so he's on top of me, and lightly grinds his groin onto mine.

"Ahh! Oh-yes, fuck!" I yell, unable to control myself and I twitch into him.
"What's that baby? You want me to strip you until you're as naked as the day you were born, and fuck you so hard you can't remember who you are?" He whispered sharply into my ear, grinding slowly onto my crotch.
"God, y-yes! F-fuck yes!" I exclaim.

He hums in pleasure, taking his shirt off. I blush at the sight of his bare chest, and those perfectly toned abs.
God, he's so beautiful.
"Luke," he says in a mocking tone, "I love it when you're looking up at me with those red cheeks. How red will you get once I'm hardcore fucking you?"

I impatiently start taking my clothes off, until I'm down to just my boxers, panting heavily for him. He smirks once he sees the bulge, which is still growing, behind the fabric.
He slips a hand under the seams of the gray boxers, playing with my thigh.
"A little anxious, are we? Oh baby, it's only going to get worse from here. I'll fuck you until you're begging for me, drooling over me." Peter huskily says, the dirty talk only growing more intense.

I whimper as a finger brushes against the side of my hard cock, filing me with lust and a feeling of needing him.
"Oh, God, Peter, fuck me!" I yell, needing him, wanting him more than anything in the world. He hums, stripping the rest of his clothes off. He takes his hands, placing them over my cock with my boxers still on, making me twitch with pleasure.

I moan as he lightly squeezes my balls, pressing his now hot hand onto my dick.
"Just take them off already!" I whine, desperate for him to fuck me over already.
He quickly pulls the boxers off, finally, his gaze fixed on my bulging cock.

"Oh, fuck. Someone really is a big boy, huh?" He says, surprised at the size of my slick erection.
"F-fuck me!" I demand, panting at the touch of his fingers gripping my dick.
I yelled out a string of obscenities when he starts pumping, slowly getting faster going harder. His own dick was growing at the sight of my envious state.

I lay there, panting and keening for him as he pumps and showers me with stray kisses.
"F-fuck!" I exclaim, his pumping growing stronger.