Page 4 of Breathe Like Hell

I was running on the high of violence and bad decisions and the ex that’d ruined my life.

“Ash,” he mumbled.

“Kill,” I said in response. It was too familiar, too automatic.

Dangerous. Too dangerous.

Micah angled his dick towards mine, leaning into me, his eyebrows pushed together and his jaw tensed. His eyes were so dark now, that outer ring eclipsing the steel, his pupils expanding to fill the rest, that I would’ve begged him to continue if he tried to stop now. Fucking begged. For anything.

My abdomen was tense, my thighs flexing, my mind spiraling into this obsession which had always been at the core of me. I was made of this obsession. As much as I hated it.

I kept my thumb on top of my cock, using the rest of my fingers to cup my balls, panting like a bitch. He moved again, brushing the head of his cock against the underside of mine, a shuddering breath escaping both of us at the contact.

All our years of separation dissolved away in a single instant.

Immediately, I hooked a hand around the back of his neck, dragging his mouth back down to meet mine.

The length of his erection lined up with mine, nothing between us now, his hips rolling as our tongues tangled. Time warped, slowing and speeding, everything a blur of lust and my own lack of impulse control. I kissed him deeper as I grabbed his cock, every part of me aching.

“You piss me off,” I gritted out.

“Good. Use that,” Micah said as he worked his shorts the rest of the way down, biting my lips, his arms flexing with his effort. I lifted my hips to take my own shorts off, every movement rushed and sloppy. If we slowed now, there might be a second to think about what we were actually doing, so we didn’t.

“Gonna suck it?” he questioned against my mouth. His voice was pure gravel.

“Yeah.”

Pointless to lie now.

He pushed off me, rising to his full height.

I didn’t even try to stand up.

I gripped his thigh, pushing my hand up towards his cock. Fuck, fuck, fuck. My dick was so hard it hurt. When one of his hands found the back of my head and the other held the base of his cock, squeezing, pumping himself a bit, I didn’t do a thing to resist my urges.

Without pause, I leaned forward and licked up the length of his thick cock, fighting the urge to groan at the weight of him on my tongue.

CHAPTER TWO

MICAH

I hated Mason for everything he’d done to me, for what he’d turned me into. My bitterness consumed more of my brain than I was willing to admit, tinting every thought darker, carving them sharper, until I could hardly think about him without my old obsession clawing painfully at my chest.

It was an infection. My ex was a deadly illness for which there existed no cure.

And now he was searing me again, like a fever, heating me up, boiling in my blood.

It was fucking dangerous.

His tongue flicked over the head of my cock and I could see him grabbing his own erection, breathing hard and slow like he was giving himself a second to feel the gravity of kneeling for me again. Knees on the ground, mouth open, cock hard. He was pure sin like this.

Maybe I needed a second to feel the familiar gravity too, but I didn’t want to slow down long enough to reconsider any of this. Considering things meant making conscious choices. The conscious choice to shove my cock into my ex’s throat.

But this was not a conscious choice. This was wrapped in my DNA. A decision made long ago.

Plus, hatred paired well with lust.

Mason took me all the way in the back of his throat, turning his head side to side to get me as deep as possible, his lips wrapped around the base of my dick, his throat slick and tight as ever. I tilted my head back towards the ceiling, eyes sliding shut as my abdomen flexed, my chest heaving with my breath.