Page 149 of Breathe Like Hell

I arched my neck as Mason licked the side of my throat, my eyes finding Micah’s as he stood in the doorway. Something dangerously territorial flitted across his face, the ownership in his stare like a loaded gun pointed straight at me.

Then come and fucking take me.

As if he could read my thoughts, Micah stalked straight across the room, never slowing, never hesitating.

He ripped Mason off the couch with a force that both stunned and thrilled me, sending him flying across the living room where he crashed into the fireplace, some of the bricks crumbling to dust around him. Micah climbed on top of me and yanked my sleep shorts all the way down, making me gasp.

He ducked his head and lifted my hips at the same time, bringing my pussy to his waiting mouth. I cried out, my fingers threading through his hair as my head rolled back on the pillow. His hot tongue flicked over my swelling clit in greedy strokes, then moved down to push inside of me, licking me deep and hard and possessive.

I couldn’t catch my breath. It was as if Micah was trying to steal my fucking soul with his mouth, like he could lick it right out of me, sink his teeth into it, devour it whole, own me completely.

But Mason was back fast, now trying to get Micah off me.

“Get the fuck off of her,” he growled.

He shoved Micah backwards, detaching his skilled mouth from my flesh. I whined with the loss of contact, but Mason’s fingers were there after a short few seconds. He shoved two inside of me, curling them upward as he pumped his wrist.

Everything was happening so fast that my head spun, my chest heaving with rapid breaths, stomach quivering.

My shirt was ripped off of me so I laid completely naked on the cool leather, squirming while Mason fingered my pussy, Micah lowering himself on top of me, hungry mouth returning to my clit. He licked and lapped and kissed and sucked, all of it happening while Mason kept wedging his fingers deeper, his tongue pressing past my yielding lips, seeking my own.

Pleasure soaked my veins, warming my face, making me twist and writhe, breathy moans escaping my mouth right onto Mason’s possessive lips.

Different hands grabbed my naked breasts, pinching my nipples, so roughly dominating on my arching body.

Micah ate me hungrily, ravenously. More unhinged than I usually saw him. Maybe Mason made him this way.

He buried his face in my cunt, eyebrows furrowed, tongue lashing against my swollen clit.

Proving his ownership.

Mason was trying to get Micah off me again, trying to put himself between my thighs, but Micah was doing the same fucking thing to him. My legs were pressed open wide, mouths and hands attacking all available skin, getting more aggressive with each passing second. I was so beyond turned on I couldn’t stop the whiny noises pouring from my parted lips.

“I fucking had her first,” Mason gritted out.

“Well, I have her now.” Micah’s expression was dripping with feral obsession.

“Get out.”

“No. You’re in my house.”

That was enough to really piss Mason off.

Both of them were off me in an instant, clawing at each other, turning what’d been a scuff into a full blown fight in the living room.

Fists slinging across faces, blood and ichor spraying, shirts ripped to shreds. The sound of skin colliding paired with masculine noises of pain and aggression. Bright sparks of electricity erupting from Mason’s knuckles and burying themselves in Micah’s skin. Blankness entering Mason’s eyes in intervals while Micah disoriented him.

It was almost hypnotizing to watch. I’d not been allowed to see much of this before.

And as violent as it felt right now, I was still aware in the back of my mind that this was only a small fraction of what they were capable of.

Especially Mason.

The sound of the tree trunks snapping, branches falling, the ground shaking below me, was burned into my memories. To me, Aamon’s death had only been flashes of light and waves of sound, the vibrations I felt in the dirt, but to the forest, it was a violent hole being drilled through its center. I’d looked over my shoulder when we left the forest, but there hadn’t been much to see. A few piles of gray ash, small pieces floating in the cold air, the wind erasing everything that’d happened.

Seeing it here, in front of my face, was different.

It was strength I could drown in, power I could be lost in.