Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
DAKOTA
Micah kissed me deep and hard and rough and messy. He kissed like he was fucking me with his mouth. Ferociously claiming every breath of mine for himself.
I clung to him, parting my lips for his tongue, whimpering into his perfect mouth, all of my longing cascading into our kiss.
“Fuck, Dakota,” he groaned, rolling my body over on top of his, my long hair falling on either side of us like a curtain, separating us from the rest of the world. A predator and his prey, reuniting in the dark. “You belong to me.”
“I do.” I nodded.
“You’re fucking mine.” His voice was pure gravel, pure sin, pure dominance over me. Utterly uncontested.
“I am,” I panted, the hint of a desperate whine bleeding into my tone. My eyes were flicking rapidly back and forth between his, seeking reassurance.
“No matter what.”
“No matter what,” I echoed.
He pushed us up so he was sitting and I was kneeling with my back to the raging ocean, then began to undress me.
It was cold, especially with the wind, but I needed this more than warmth.
Micah took off my coat and sweatshirt, then pulled up the hem of my thermal long sleeve, exposing my naked chest.
“So fucking perfect,” he said as he kissed me again, cupping my tits and rolling my stiff nipples between his fingers, wind sweeping over my skin and scattering goosebumps down my arms.
Micah grabbed my wrist and placed my palm on his erection, squeezing over the back of my hand. My cheeks were hot, wetness soaking my underwear, my pulse flying. I hadn’t touched him here in such a long time.
“I’ll let you suck it if you promise to be a good girl,” he said, running his mouth down my jaw to my throat, his lips skimming over my butterfly pulse.
“I promise to be a good girl,” I whimpered.
He gave my hand another squeeze, my fingers wrapping around the massive shape of his cock through his pants, then he worked to unbutton them and tug down the fly.
I tucked my hair behind my ears, staring at his deft fingers while the low throb intensified between my thighs.
My heart was about to break free of my ribs.
Micah lowered his pants and his boxers enough to take out his erect cock.
I crouched lower, knees pressed to the dirt, spine curving.
Micah guided my head, bringing my mouth to his swollen tip, and finally allowed me to feel him completely bare. His hot skin against my lips, my tongue, his length sliding into my open mouth.
“There you go,” he murmured. “All of it.”
I took him farther until he was bumping the back of my throat and I gagged, tears welling in my eyes.
“You’re the prettiest girl I’ve seen in my entire life. Do you know that?”
I couldn’t answer him with anything more than a moan, my lips still wrapped around his thick shaft, my throat occupied.
“It’s like you were fucking made for me, Dakota. That’s what I think about you,” he said, using his grip on my hair to bob my head up and down. “That you were made for me.”
Saliva dripped down his length as tears dripped down my cheeks, turning me into a complete mess. I used my hand in tandem with my mouth, squeezing him, pushing my fingers lower into his boxers to feel his heavy balls while I accepted his cock in my throat.
“My fear-addicted baby girl. You want it like this.” He thrust his hips upward, making me choke. “You hate that you want it like this. And maybe you want to fight me, but you know I’m not going to let you do that, so you won’t. You’ll let me do anything I want to you as long as I don’t stop.”
I pressed my thighs together, the lack of air in my lungs making my depraved thoughts fuzzy around the edges. His fingers were wound tight in my hair, pulling at my scalp, the pain stoking the fire in my core.
Without warning, Micah yanked me up, off his dick, and flipped me on my back.
A short yelp burst out of me as I landed with my head halfway over the face of the cliff, Micah instantly layering his body on top of mine.
“I own you,” he said in his low voice, arrogance and reverence both shadowing his words.
He was rough and rushed, tearing off one of my boots so he could get my jeans and underwear off one leg and shoved down to the ankle of the other. My head was reeling with his quickness.
“Yes,” I whined. “You own me.”
His large hand found the inside of my bare thigh, holding me wide open as his stiff cock pushed at my entrance.
He buried half his length inside of me on the first thrust, too hungry to go any slower, then pushed my thigh wider as he sank the rest of the way. My eyes rolled when he bottomed out, deep pleasure aching unbearably in my core, twisting with the pain he buried there.
Micah began to pump his hips, hitting me deep on every single thrust as he got steadily rougher. He didn’t slow down for a second. We’d been abstaining too long for that. My pussy clenched around him, my fingernails raking through the dirt, my clit throbbing when I looked down between us.
I couldn’t think of a sight more erotic than Micah’s bare cock sinking inside of me. Hot and thick and hard and fucking merciless.
A filthy, primal, predatory ownership.
With my shirt pushed up and my jeans dangling off one ankle, my head tipped back over the edge and freedom filling my lungs, he was finally fucking me the way I needed him to.
Pinning me to the edge, his weight holding me down, his strength keeping me safe, his hand squeezing around my vulnerable throat. So deep I knew I’d feel it for days.
I pushed back farther, high on the feeling of pure terror in my veins. The steepness and length of the drop underneath me was dizzying in the most perfect way.
One of my hands slid down between us so I could rub my clit, and I was half-delirious over the pleasure it gave me. Everything felt better when my life was hanging in the balance. When the consequences were severe and irreversible.
But I knew I wouldn’t fall.
Not with Micah here.
He was so insanely beautiful I could hardly describe it. Especially like this.
Surrounded by sky and forest and full of power. Kneeling over me, holding me, controlling whether I lived or died, keeping me safe while pinning me to the edge of my life. It was different with him than with Mason.
Mason forced me to that edge.
Micah stopped me from going all the way when I ran there myself.
If Mason liked to put my body in danger, Micah liked to put my mind in danger.
The words were right there, on the tip of my tongue, but I bit down hard to keep them inside.
I love you.
Was it so wrong for me to love more than one person? My heart was too big for my body, too big for one person to hold all of. I loved them both. I needed them both.
And I had no idea how I could ever choose, how I could ever go without one half of my whole soul. If that made me a terrible person, then I was a terrible person. I knew that.
For now, all I could do was secretly pray that they would stop hating each other one day.
That they’d care about my happiness more than their own hatred.
It was a selfish, stupid prayer. Unrealistic.
Something I never should’ve expected from two other people, so I never spoke it aloud. I kept it locked up tight in my brain.
But I’d missed Micah so much and he felt so good and he was above me looking like a god and I could barely keep my lips shut. The eye contact was killing me. Slaughtering me. Massacring me. Annihilating every piece of me he owned.
I loved him, and I wanted to tell him that.
Still, there was something in the back of my head convincing me not to say it.
It was the part of me that remembered how he reacted when I showed my interest in him. When I told him I wanted to know him, or that I was as obsessed with him as he was with me, he didn’t like it. He put his walls up, even taller than before. He pushed me all the way back out to arm’s length.
If he needed more time, I could handle that.
He’d given me enough today.
He was groaning viciously against my mouth, thrusting inexorably into me, his whole body one continuous working line of muscle above mine.
I raked my fingers through his hair, crossing my ankles behind his back, trying to get him as deep as possible.
Deep enough that he was fucking my soul rather than just my body, deep enough to touch my oldest wounds.
Mason understood me in one way. He understood the way my brain was wired; he felt it in himself, too. We were twisted reflections of each other. An inevitable collision.
But Micah understood me differently. He saw the quieter parts of me. The weaker parts that’d never learned how to fight, the soft parts that’d been with me my entire life. My fragile heart and my longing for someone to tuck me into bed. My deepest insecurities and my desire to be truly cared for.
I hoped he knew how much he’d changed me in the months since I’d met him.
His persistence, his constant reassurance in the lab, his constant faith in my abilities.
It wasn’t the shallow type of reassurance, either.
It wasn’t pretty words and compliments. It was deeper than that.
Statements aimed at the parts of my brain that’d been built wrong, the parts that attacked me endlessly.
You are worth spending time on.
Micah tightened his grip on my throat, pushing my head further over the edge, restricting the blood flow to my brain just enough to make my thoughts swim and my eyes roll back.
I could feel the fragility of my life much more like this.
My limbs were shaking, the air around me suddenly infinite and irrefutably lethal.
Violent wind tangled deep in my lungs, spiraling around me and Micah, ruffling our clothes and hair, whispering its secret promises into my willing ears.
If he lets go, you will fall.
I believed that promise with every drop of blood in my body, believed those ropes of air wrapping around my neck like an invisible noose.