Chapter 52 #2
So Mason didn’t say what he wanted, and I didn’t give him the response he feared.
We just kissed harder, viciously biting at each other’s lips, tangling our tongues together.
I allowed myself to be consumed by my sick desperation, my mind drifting away, dragging me down to my favorite oceanic depths.
Neither Micah nor Mason were safe for me, but at least I knew Micah wanted to take care of me. Mason would probably kill me if I ended up with him. By accident, on purpose. Somehow.
He tugged my shirt off, then his own, his bare chest so warm against mine.
“I want to see your wings,” I blurted out, still rolling my hips, craving this deeper closeness with him.
“I’m never showing you them.”
My stomach flipped.
“Are you serious?” I looked at him, both his hands sliding down to cup my ass now.
“Yeah. You’re never fucking seeing that side of me.”
The way he said it struck me in the chest, giving me a harsh reality check. Mason wasn’t the romanticized version of him that lived in my head sometimes. He didn’t change. This was him. He wasn’t going to suddenly open up now that I knew more about him.
“What about the kapnos? You told me about that.”
“That shit doesn’t matter.”
“Fuck you, Mason.”
“Tell me,” he murmured, disregarding what I said. “Does Micah fuck you like I do? Do you think about me when he’s inside of you?”
I leaned into him, pressing my lips to his neck, just below his ear. “He fucks me better,” I breathed.
I didn’t know why I said it. Maybe because I knew what we were doing wasn’t sustainable and I couldn’t stop myself from trying to light the final match that would start our fiery destruction. Maybe I just wanted him to fuck me harder. To scare me again.
Because it wasn’t true. Micah fucked me well, but so did Mason. They were just different—but neither were safe.
“Yeah?” Mason growled, flipping me onto my back on his mattress and unzipping his pants, shoving them down his legs. Now he was pissed. “How well do you think he’d fuck you if you were dead?”
I hate you. I wish I never fucking met you.
You are the worst person on Earth and I still can’t stay away from you.
“I like it when you’re jealous,” I said, unsure if I was even telling the truth at this point, unsure of what I wanted anymore. I shouldn’t have come here, shouldn’t have been so weak. It was inevitable, though. I wasn’t escaping Mason in one piece.
I would keep coming back until he destroyed me.
“I’m gonna fucking kill you,” he gritted out, flicking his tongue over the seam of my lips, kissing his terrible promise into me.
I wished I didn’t love the way those words tasted in my mouth, wished I wasn’t shivering with anticipation for it.
“And then I’ll tell him he wasn’t the last person to touch you.
It was me. Right here, right now. This is all you’re ever gonna get, baby, so make it good. This is your last time.”
I arched my back, pressing my chest into him, trembling.
“You want to try out that little fantasy now? The one where I put my gun on your pretty temple and pull the trigger?”
Fear and adrenaline flooded my veins, hot and cold all at once, pinpricks of pain lighting up every inch of my nervous system.
“Does he know about that one? I’ll bet he doesn’t know anything about you.”
He knows me differently. He takes care of me in a way you never will.
He protects me.
“Why do you care so much about him? Why do you care what he knows about me?” I let my legs fall apart more, let Mason’s hips come between them, his erection grinding on my core. “How the fuck do you even know him?”
“We’re angels living on Earth in close proximity. It’d be weird if I didn’t know him.”
“But why do you hate him?”
Mason didn’t answer, tugging my underwear to the side and sinking a finger inside of me. I grabbed his wrist, maybe to get him off, maybe not. It didn’t really matter what I did, because none of this was ever on my terms. It was always Mason.
He built us; he broke us. I couldn’t do anything without him trying to drown me in one way or another. Every time I surfaced, he just dragged me back under. He didn’t want me safe; he wanted me desperate.
Warmth blossomed between my legs as Mason added a second finger, brushing his thumb over my swollen clit.
His mouth captured mine roughly and my eyes slid closed.
I was grabbing his shoulders now, bucking my hips, begging him with every inch of my body, begging for more. For something to make me feel.
“Why do you hate him if he doesn’t hate you?” I asked again.
“Is that what he told you?” Mason laughed, but the sound wasn’t nice. It was mean and sharp and scary.
I didn’t want to answer him when he got like this. I settled for kissing him instead.
But Mason ripped his mouth away, pushing off the bed and stalking over to his dresser. He yanked open the top drawer, then pulled out his gun. Goosebumps scattered all across my skin and I felt sick. I wasn’t sure if it was the same gun he kept in his car, but it looked identical.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.