Page 133 of Breathe Like Hell

But I could.

Heat started to gather, low in my stomach, blood pumping to my groin. The air tasted like the place where the forest met the ocean, the place where we’d fallen to Earth—only darker now. More hateful, knotted with decades of anguish.

Micah forced me to sit, then tightly bound my wrists behind the back of the chair, wrapping the rope around my heaving chest and shoulders a few times for good measure, ensuring I was secured.

I gritted my teeth, hating the way my cock was swelling. My unwelcome arousal was too visible, my boxers crudely stretching around the rigid shape.

He prowled back over towards Dakota on my bed, grabbing the massive bulge in his pants as he eyed her shyly covering her chest with her arms. He looked every bit the carnivorous predator; she looked every bit the trapped prey.

He was going to eat her alive. Sink his teeth into her flesh and tear her apart.

Rip out her heart and consume it right in front of me.

Climbing onto the bed, he crawled over her, then pulled her to sit on his lap as he knelt, both of them facing me. Dakota’s face was pink.

Micah spread her trembling thighs out wide, holding her arms behind her back so she couldn’t hide anything from me—she couldn’t even try. Restrained by his strength, her flushed body entirely on display, all the places where she was pink and swollen available for me to look at.

Her terrified eyes hooked on mine.

My cock was fully erect at this point, confined miserably by cotton.

“I know you like when he touches you.” he murmured. Dakota didn’t move a muscle in response, her eyes so wide, her lips nervously rolled together. “But you like me better.”

Fuck you.

I bit my tongue.

I would’ve said it out loud, had I not known with absolute certainty that my verbal irritation would only make this entire experience more torturous.

Micah slid a hand down to skim his fingers over her exposed pussy, spreading her open, making her squirm. There was no coaxing, no encouragement, only the erotic sort of entitlement Micah always displayed. The inexorable force of his will.

That was part of the reason I liked topping him so much.

Nobody was allowed to hurt him. Nobody was allowed to even get close.

Except me.

…In the past.

“You can’t even help it, can you?” he asked with his mouth brushing her ear, fingers probing her entrance, stretching her out. “You like this so much that you’d let me do anything I wanted right now. You like it when I show off the place I’m about to fuck. So fucking wet, baby girl.”

He pushed two thick fingers knuckle-deep inside of her, and I bit back a groan, my erection straining.

Micah fingered Dakota while she whined, breathing harder, getting so wet I could hear it, and his fingers glistened when he pulled them out to rub her clit. Her eyelids fluttered, her head tipped against his broad chest, long hair cascading around her nakedness, pink mouth caught open on a desperate moan.

Then, he pushed her forward, down, putting her chest against the mattress and guiding her ass up in the air. Her palms slid along my comforter, fingers curling into fists. He left her like that as he finished undressing himself, efficiently stripping the rest of his clothes off.

I didn’t want to stare at him—but I was. Every perfect line of muscle draping around his tall form. His taut stomach and his hard cock jutting out lewdly, his balls hanging heavy below.

God.

He knelt on the bed, mattress dipping, fingers circling his base, then slowly pushed himself into Dakota’s waiting pussy. Her expression as Micah buried his cock deep was making me feral. She was different with him than she was with me.

“Fuck, Masters,” he hissed. “You feel so fucking good.”

The thought of just how good her cunt would feel wrapped around me instead had my cock jerking in my boxers.

Micah started to fuck her more thoroughly, his gaze set on the place where he penetrated her, his hands gripping her hips.