Page 89 of Breathe Like Hell

I was way too fucking wound up for him to be doing that shit right now.

“Fuck, Kill. Deeper,” I gritted out, my chest heaving.

I could barely think through the euphoria flooding my veins. Could barely remember that I was supposed to hate him. Could barely remember that he wasn’t my boyfriend anymore—he was my ex-boyfriend, and he’d been the one to leave me…

His hand was working my erection and his cock was so deep in my ass, his chest pressed to my back, his breath heavy in my ear, sweat slick between us…

“Are you gonna come all over my floor?” he said in my ear as his fingers circled my cock tighter.

“Yeah. Yeah.”

“Do it,” he ordered. “Show me how good I’m making you feel.”

“Fuck,” I choked out, my voice strangled.

My orgasm tore through me in the next breath, cum striping the floor between my feet as Micah just kept jacking my dick. I was moaning and panting, all my muscles flexed, the pleasure dragging on and on, anchoring all the way down to my bones, claiming every part of me. There was so much fucking cum on the floor.

Micah fucked me harder, faster, chasing his own release now.

Skin smacked against skin, his balls and thighs and hips, every part of him working. My fingers curled into the leather of the couch, my nails digging in. His entire body was one line of pure carnality, pounding into me while he sought his pleasure.

When he finally came, it seemed to last forever, and every single noise he made was carving itself into my brain, every grunt and harsh breath. But like everything, it eventually ended, shoving us into the brutal aftermath.

After his orgasm, the house was quiet again.

I wasn’t sure what he was going to want from me, but I wasn’t going to be the one to talk first. Micah didn’t move, his cock still buried inside of me as he rubbed his hands up my sides, then back down to my hips. He stilled, then pulled out.

Cum dripped out of me, and I hated how empty I felt.

“Go upstairs,” Micah said.

“You think you’re just going to tell me what to do now?” I asked, still facing away from him so I could conceal my reaction to his order.

“I think if you want to get repeatedly fucked for as many hours as you can take it, you better start walking towards my bedroom.”

I had to hide the shiver that moved through me at his words.

No refractory period.

Endless stamina.

It wasn’t Micah I missed sex with, it was angels in general. It had nothing to do with him. It just so happened that he was the last angel I’d fucked, and I couldn’t help but miss it. This was a species thing, not a person thing.

That’s a fucking lie.

But I didn’t speak again before walking towards the stairs, and Micah’s footsteps followed right behind mine. Might as well make this slip up worth it.

━━━━━

Micah kept his promise, putting me facedown on the mattress for most of the night.

I groaned against his sheets, smelling Dakota there, pleasure spiraling through my body for the millionth time. He made me greedy. Hedonistic. Insatiable.

When he pulled out, I tried to flip onto my back, getting tired of the angle. I wanted more of him, wanted to see him fucking me, wanted to be able to jerk myself off better. Or I wanted to switch so I got to top him instead.

But Micah didn’t seem receptive to this plan.

“We used to fuck in other positions, you know,” I said, irritated as he kept his palm on my spine.