Page 76 of Breathe Like Hell

I was only kissing him because it’d been way too fucking long since I’d tasted Dakota’s pussy, and I needed it bad. His fingers threaded through my hair and he angled my head, licking into my mouth, his tongue fighting mine. Heat ripped through my abdomen, spearing up my spine, throbbing in my balls.

Mason’s teeth bit at my lips, his free hand sliding around my back to grab my ass, to yank my hips forward. His erection was thick and hot, grinding against mine.

So fucking hard.

I didn’t want hard, though. I wanted soft. I wanted her.

Dakota Masters.

I ripped my mouth away from Mason’s, and the cocky expression on his face sent me into a blind rage so fast it genuinely startled me. I didn’t have time to overthink it. My fist slammed across his face, most of the impact hitting his nose. The crunch of his bone was audible, and blood immediately started pouring down onto his upper lip.

Mason didn’t retaliate right away.

He stared at me intensely, blood dripping over his mouth, like he was trying to figure me out. Like he was partially amused by my reaction, partially surprised by the quickness with which I’d snapped. He was probably pleased to see how strong of an effect he still had over me.

I hated it.

I hated everything.

I hated him.

Hated how out of control he made me feel, how fucking insane I was acting.

I backed away with my heart pounding, fists clenched tight at my sides, using whatever strength I had left to calm myself down enough to go upstairs to a vulnerable and sleeping Dakota. I paused at the bottom of the stairs, gripping the railing while I breathed hard.

Mason was still in the kitchen, and I could hear that he hadn’t moved. I was grateful for that. I just need a second.

I was coming apart at the seams, and now was not the time for that.

The pressure of killing Aamon, the stress of being around Mason again, the knowledge that I was hurting Dakota and my complete inability to stop it…

Breathe.

It’s okay.

I’ve handled worse.

She doesn’t know how to hurt me worse than she is now. Only Mason knows that, and I’ve dealt with him before.

The image of that video Mason had sent me flickered in my mind as I ascended the steps, and I could still remember her taste on Mason’s mouth when I kissed him.

Blood surged to my dick when I entered my bedroom and caught sight of Dakota.

She was still naked in my bed.

CHAPTER TWENTY

DAKOTA

I sleepily blinked my eyes open at the feeling of large hands on my waist, the comforter being pulled down, something looping around my wrists. It was dark in the room—but not so dark that I couldn’t see the unforgiving shadow looming over me, eclipsing any moonlight that dared to shine in his presence.

Micah.

Heat sprawled all over my limp body as he stretched my arms above my head.

“Micah,” I whimpered, squeezing my thighs together, eyes darting around so I could re-familiarize myself with my surroundings. It was just me and him in the bedroom, the mattress dipping under his knees on either side of my hips.

Micah knelt over me, knotting the rope around my wrists and securing it to his headboard, his thick blond hair falling over his forehead. His lips were pressed in a cruel line, his jaw flexing like he’d already used up the last of his patience tonight.