Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
MASON
Due to a series of unusual circumstances, I was alone in Micah’s house with Dakota for the second time this week.
It was easier to stay here for now than to bring her back to my apartment, even though that would’ve been my preference.
He said he needed her here for some reason, despite him currently being on campus working.
She dumped her bowl of milk in the sink, then rinsed it and stuck it in the dishwasher before putting away the box of off-brand honey nut Cheerios—which she’d specifically requested. Cereal was her dinner of choice tonight.
“I wanna fuck you,” I said from where I sat at the table, watching her.
“That’s all we ever do,” she pouted.
Is it?
Maybe.
I don’t know.
“We can do other things. Whatever you want,” I promised. “I just want to fuck you first.”
“Okay. I wanna fuck you, too.” She padded over in her socks and maneuvered her way onto my lap, somehow squeezing her body between the edge of the table and where I sat on the chair. I liked when she was being agreeable.
“Upstairs, baby. In a bed.” In Micah’s bed. I didn’t say that last part aloud, though.
“We can go upstairs.”
I lifted her off my lap and set her on her feet, then stood up and started towards the stairs with Dakota in tow.
At the top of the stairs, I could feel her trying to go into the guest bedroom, clearly assuming that was where I was taking her.
No, baby. I kissed her as she looped her arms around my neck, already becoming pliant for me.
“This way,” I mumbled against her mouth, dragging her down the hallway.
“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.”
“I’m just horny, and Micah isn’t fucking me anymore. Doesn’t mean I like you or any of the things you do to me.”
Dakota sucked in a breath as I shoved two fingers inside her soaked pussy, curling them up towards her belly, massaging the spot that got her even wetter.
“Way, way too many lies recently, baby. Feels like all you do,” I said, pushing my thumb against her clit, grinding my own hips down against the mattress to get some pressure on my stiff cock.
I wasn’t even exaggerating about what I’d said.
It seemed like Dakota had gotten less and less honest in the months I’d been with her—even if I technically knew more about her now.
She was growing more deceitful, and I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d made her that way.
If I was infecting her with my own shit personality. If I was making her worse overall.
I didn’t like that thought, though, so I fucking ignored it.
Dakota was eagerly rolling her hips against my hand, her tight little body writhing below mine.
“Liars can’t talk about other people lying,” she moaned. “You’re never honest with me.”
I gritted my teeth.
When had all this shit gotten so frustrating?
Probably the same day Micah saw her in his class.
He was the problem.
He made Dakota worse.
If it was just us together, we’d be golden. But he was always fucking there.
He wasn’t here now, though.
Idiot.
What did he think I was gonna do alone here with her?
I slid my fingers out of Dakota’s cunt and flipped her over onto her stomach, tugging down my shorts and pumping my dick a few times with my fist. She was on her knees, chest pressed to the mattress, her gaze focused back over her shoulder, focused on me, bare pussy on display for me to stare at.
She looked so good.
Soon, I would get her to myself again. Somehow. Micah would cease to exist in my life, and I’d be better for it, no longer feeling all the shit he made me feel.
Dakota and I were sick in all the same ways.
She didn’t need him. She only needed me.
I wanted him to see that.
Slowly stretching her with my cock, I grabbed my phone out of my pocket and opened the camera.
Dakota looked so fucking sexy on the screen. Her little waist and her perfect face pressed into the pillow, the flare of her hips and her pussy gripping me so well. I tightened my grip on her hip and snapped a photo, then swiped over to my messages.
She arched her spine, pushing back to take every inch of my length as I sent the picture to Micah. Hopefully he’d enjoy the sight of her getting fucked by me in his bed.
“Liars can do whatever they want,” I said, and Dakota was too distracted by my cock inside of her to keep fighting me on it. She just nodded, still angling her hips to take me as deep as possible. For whatever reason, that pissed me off again.
I slapped her ass, which only made her moan louder.
I gritted my teeth, anger sinking into my bones.
My brain was a literal toxic wasteland. I didn’t want her agreeable anymore, because her agreement felt like apathy, and I preferred fighting to that. She was being nice because she wanted dick, but she would be just as nice to Micah if he was here.
Fuck.
My hands flexed on her hips as I fucked her harder.
“Do you even care that you’re with both of us at the same time?” I questioned, toxicity dripping in my thoughts, corrupting and ruining everything. “Does that compute in your brain as something you shouldn’t be doing?”
“Yes,” she whined, gripping the comforter.
“That’s difficult to believe, considering how you just. Keep. Doing. It.” I punctuated every word with a thrust of my hips, going harder each time.
“I’m sorry,” she moaned as she arched. “I’m so fucking sorry!”
“I don’t think you are.” I pulled her hair, hard, making her wince, her neck tilted back. Her hand slipped underneath her body to touch her clit. She still thought she deserved to come. “There’s something seriously wrong with you, baby.”
“I am sorry,” Dakota cried out, her pussy squeezing around my shaft. She was so wet now that I could hear it. Could hear her fingers desperately rubbing her swollen little clit.
“You know what I think?” I leaned over her, driving deeper, shoving my palm against the back of her skull.
“I think that pretending you’re apologetic turns you on.
I think you know you’re pathetic, you know you’re not a good girl, you know I’m going to be pissed at you for saying sorry and it makes you come that much harder. ”
“That’s not true.” Her eyes rolled back in her head.