Page 68 of Breathe Like Hell

“Mason, stop,” she protested weakly, hanging off my body, arching into me. “Not this way.”

We stumbled down the hall, Dakota’s anxiety evident in the desperate way she kissed me.

“Yes.” I tore my mouth away from hers as I pushed her through the doorway, then picked her up and tossed her on Micah’s bed. “Thought you liked making him jealous. Huh?”

She landed with a bounce and instantly started crawling backwards up the bed, away from me.

“I regretted that. Immensely.”

I grabbed her ankles and yanked her back down, getting on the bed with her, pinning her little body to the mattress with my weight as she squirmed. Her face was flushed with effort and arousal, her hair splayed around her head on the comforter.

“You like sleeping here with him?” I questioned roughly, snatching her wrists in one hand and stretching them above her head. “Getting fucked here by him?”

Dakota’s pouty lips were parted, green eyes narrowed, eyebrows angrily pushed together. I was ruining her agreeable attitude, but I’d known it was going to happen once I dragged her in here instead of the guest bedroom.

A small price to pay for this.

“Oh, wait. He’s not fucking you anymore. He hates you.”

“He doesn’t hate me,” she snapped, trying and failing to get her delicate wrists out of my death grip.

“Remember when I went to your place for the first time? And you opened the door for me?” I asked, leaning down. Her breath was warm and shallow on my lips. “I had you pinned down just like this and you got so wet, didn’t you?”

She whimpered and whined, attempting to wriggle away from me in vain. I could see the memories replaying in her head. My mouth on her needy pussy, her mind all conflicted for loving how I’d invaded her bedroom.

“You can’t hide from me, baby. You know better than that.”

I shifted my position on top of her, moving my free hand up to collar her slender throat. A breathy moan escaped her as I squeezed the sides of her neck, eyes slipping shut and body twisting.

“There’s just one difference between now and last time,” I started, to which she snapped her eyes open again, anger burning in the green like my voice had reminded her that she was mad at me now. “Remember what it was?”

“No,” she panted. “Get off.”

“I remember.”

“Well, fucking good for you.” Dakota jerked her wrists again, but I leaned down harder, putting more of my weight into keeping her helplessly pinned below me. She winced a little with the increased pressure.

“Yeah. Good for me. Last time, you let me get you naked,” I reminded her. “I didn’t even have to talk to you or anything, you just got all slutty so fucking fast. A pathetic little mess on your own bed with a stranger on top of you.”

“I hardly had a choice in the matter, dick,” she snapped.

“Pretty sure you begged me to eat your sweet little pussy.”

“Only after you told me you would do whatever you wanted to me without my permission,” she argued.

“Do you get wet thinking about being my victim?”

“I’m going to fucking kill you.”

I released her wrists, but only so I could tear her shirt open in the front, then yank her shorts and underwear down her legs. She screamed as the cotton ripped, probably pissed that I kept doing this. But she was always wearing Micah’s shirts, so it truly didn’t matter what happened to them. I could burn them. I wanted to. I wanted to destroy every piece of him that’d ever touched her.

Including this fucking bed.

I lowered myself on top of Dakota again, feeling her bare body against my chest, the tempting heat between her legs.

“You ripped my shirt,” she said, nails digging into my shoulders as I mauled her neck, my tongue licking over her quick pulse.

“I ripped his shirt. That’s not your shirt.” I slid one of my hands between her legs, tracing the slickness around her entrance. She couldn’t stop herself from trying to grind against my palm. “Feels like you like it.”