Page 182 of Breathe Like Hell

“Nosferatu.” She took a sip of her hot chocolate. “The new one,” she specified.

The fire crackled in the fireplace, tossing orange swaths of light across the living room as I got the movie started. Dakota remained sitting on the rug, drinking her hot chocolate, looking up at the screen. I hadn’t touched my own drink and neither had Mason.

Dakota looked over her shoulder at me, then set her mug down and crawled to my feet. I ran my fingers through her hair.

“You happy?” I asked.

She nodded.

I found myself memorizing the carefree expression on her face before I realized what I was doing, as if some part of me expected it to disappear at any moment. She was happy now, but she wouldn’t be forever.

I caught Mason watching us. He looked away before either of us acknowledged it.

My eyes drifted back down to Dakota on her knees. She was watching the movie, her head still inclined into my palm as I stroked her hair.

“How many times have you watched this movie?” I questioned, drawing her attention.

“I think five times.” She let her gaze slip for a second, landing on the bulge in my grey sweats before she peered up at my face again, her green eyes twinkling. It only took a second for this wholesome evening to become a lost cause, though. The warm air was already threaded with pine and ocean and the underlying softness of Dakota’s arousal. She bit her lip, then glanced over at Mason.

He adjusted his hips, letting his thighs angle out wider.

“How are you feeling now?” I hooked my finger under Dakota’s chin.

“You know.”

“Show me,” I ordered, relishing the way her cheeks flushed darker.

“By myself?”

“Yes.”

I could feel her nerves, but she didn’t hesitate to crawl back over closer to the Christmas tree and the fireplace, then slip her shorts down underneath her sweatshirt, kicking them off her feet. Her eyes bounced rapidly back and forth between Mason and me, her plush lower lip trapped between her teeth.

Hot blood rushed to my groin, pumping me stiff, and I pressed my palm over my swelling erection. Dakota watched with her thighs squeezing together.

“Keep going, baby girl,” I murmured.

Her pupils were expanded, swallowing the green in her irises, as she carefully tugged her sweatshirt over her head.

“Fuck,” Mason said under his breath at the sight of her, sitting naked in front of the fire.

I gripped my cock hard through my pants, giving a few rough strokes.

Dakota slowly spread her legs, socks sliding on the carpet, her slender fingers slipping down between her thighs to hold herself apart so we could see her clit, already swollen. My hand tightened on my erection as it gave a heavy, lustful throb, a feeling of immense satisfaction thrumming in my veins.

Dakota moaned softly, her face shy and flushed as one fingertip skimmed over her exposed clit. Her nipples were pulled into helpless little points, and I wanted them in my fucking mouth.

I tugged down my sweats and boxers, taking my cock fully in my fist, staring at her pliant and aroused body, illuminated by firelight and the glow of the Christmas tree. She was so fucking perfect.

I could still see fading bruises on the backs of her thighs from my belt, and the sight made me even harder. Inflicting pain had been such a constant in my life, for as long as I could remember. Usually I was inflicting it on myself, just to get out of my head or to see my blood or because I was curious about the sensation. Pain wasn’t something angels in Heaven ever chased—not the way they did on Earth. It was almost seen as pointless, because it went away so quickly. It wasn’t really something considered.

My desires to hurt Mason were different. We were both violent. I showed him how it felt to cut himself open with a blade, and he liked it. He learned the rush of euphoria that came with bloodshed. But Dakota was soft and fragile.

I didn’t want to be violent with her. I wanted to hurt her.

There was a difference.

I wanted to tie her up, making her trapped and safe in the same breath, then brutalize her beautiful flesh until I was sated. Deny her orgasm. Give her more orgasms than she could handle. Watch the way she took all the pain I gave her and turned it into something I could worship. Watch how my desire changed her body and only made me want her that much more.