Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
DAKOTA
My eyes cracked open slowly, my head already aching like a rubber band had been mercilessly wrapped around my skull. I rolled over, stretching my legs between the sheets, then paused. Micah wasn’t in bed.
Right.
Because I made him sleep on the couch.
All the memories of last night came rushing back in a terrible, overwhelming wave, forcing me to squeeze my eyes shut again.
Mason stealing me out of Micah’s bed in the middle of the night and forcing me into his car.
Our screaming match while he drove too fast. Me threatening to wreck the car or jump out myself.
My admission that I would never be whole without both of them.
And then, coming back to Micah’s house and insisting that all three of us sleep here separated.
I wasn’t entirely convinced last night would’ve played out the same way had it not occurred after Mason roused me from a dead sleep. Especially not while I was already sleep deprived and insane and anxious about the upcoming holiday. But in some twisted way, I was glad it’d happened.
I went into the bathroom to brush my teeth and try to freshen myself up a bit. My eyes were still slightly puffy from crying, but it wasn’t too noticeable.
Quietly, I tiptoed downstairs, but Micah wasn’t on the couch when I peeked my head down into the living room. I continued the rest of the way down the stairs, heading through the living room into the kitchen, where Micah was sitting at the table, already on his laptop and looking professional.
He was only wearing shorts and a faded t-shirt, but his attitude always exuded the sort of professional confidence he got from being so well educated and so highly respected.
“Good morning,” I said as I walked over towards him.
“Good morning.”
“Did you sleep okay?” I asked nervously, interlocking my fingers.
“It would’ve been better if I slept with you,” he answered, a hint of coldness in his tone. His walls were up, tall as ever, and I had no wings of my own to reach the top of them. I sat down quietly.
Micah resumed his typing.
“Well, I made him come back here just because of you. Because I wanted to be with you,” I said.
“And then I slept on my own couch as not to upset your second boyfriend.”
“Micah.” I frowned, a lump forming in my throat. “I was trying to show that I’m not choosing him. He took me from the bed when I was still asleep. I didn’t have a choice.”
“Please stop.” Micah’s eyes caught on mine, immediately reminding me how our relationship worked now. I wasn’t supposed to give him kindness like this. I was only supposed to obey him, let him control me. Not push.
This had to be on his terms.
I swallowed, then looked down at my interlocked fingers, my chipping nail polish.
What’d felt simple on the edge of a cliff had become infinitely complex at the breakfast table. There was no wind to fill the gaps in our conversation, no two-hundred-foot drop to distract me from the fact that I wouldn’t be able to live like this forever. The only danger here was him.
And I knew next to nothing about what was happening inside his head. His skull was locked up like an ice-crusted fortress I had no ability to invade. Stone walls, frosted locks.
After a few minutes, Mason joined us, increasing the tension by tenfold.
Micah refused to look at him, not even for a quick glance. Nothing.
How many times could this happen before I completely lost my mind?
As much as I enjoyed being with Mason and Micah together, these endless moments of tense silence between the three of us were like psychological torture to me.
All the dinners and movies and breakfasts, no one speaking—but no one leaving either.
As if we just couldn’t let go of the moment, despite the agony of it.
All of us held our palms over the too hot flame now, letting it lick our miserable skin.
Agonizing moments were better than no moments, just like the pain Mason and Micah caused me was better than either of them leaving me.
I pushed my chair out, stood up, then walked into the living room without a glance backward.
I threw myself on the leather couch, grabbing a throw blanket to pull over my body and reaching over to snatch the remote from the coffee table.
The blanket smelled like Micah, the scent strengthened by his sleep.
But Mason was stalking into the room before I even got a chance to turn the TV on, bending over me, his mouth claiming mine as his hands found my waist, pushing my t-shirt up and pulling my blanket off.
“Mason,” I whimpered in complaint, half-heartedly trying to push him off. Goosebumps raced over my bared skin, my nipples pulling tight. God, fuck.
His palm slid up my stomach and ribs, settling over my exposed breast. He didn’t give me any opportunity to stop him, but I wouldn’t have done it anyway. I craved this sickness between us. His violation of my body.
Still, Micah’s words on the cliff echoed through my skull, making me nervous, sweat already clinging to my spine.
You’re done doing that immature shit with him. No more fucking him to try and make me jealous.
But I had no part in what was happening now. Micah knew that.
This was Mason, coming to claim me because he could. Because he wanted to. Because I was alone and available.
He pushed his tongue into my mouth, biting my lower lip, cupping my tits with his big hands. I stupidly moaned against his rough exhales, unable to stop myself. The heat always sparking low in my core ignited so easily like this, when I wasn’t given a choice to refuse its burn.
Your body is mine, and you know that. Doesn’t matter if Mason gets to fuck you sometimes. He’s not in charge of you. I am.
Micah’s low voice in my head again.
I arched my neck as Mason licked the side of my throat, my eyes finding Micah’s as he stood in the doorway. Something dangerously territorial flitted across his face, the ownership in his stare like a loaded gun pointed straight at me.
Then come and fucking take me.
As if he could read my thoughts, Micah stalked straight across the room, never slowing, never hesitating.
He ripped Mason off the couch with a force that both stunned and thrilled me, sending him flying across the living room where he crashed into the fireplace, some of the bricks crumbling to dust around him. Micah climbed on top of me and yanked my sleep shorts all the way down, making me gasp.
He ducked his head and lifted my hips at the same time, bringing my pussy to his waiting mouth.
I cried out, my fingers threading through his hair as my head rolled back on the pillow.
His hot tongue flicked over my swelling clit in greedy strokes, then moved down to push inside of me, licking me deep and hard and possessive.
I couldn’t catch my breath. It was as if Micah was trying to steal my fucking soul with his mouth, like he could lick it right out of me, sink his teeth into it, devour it whole, own me completely.
But Mason was back fast, now trying to get Micah off me.
“Get the fuck off of her,” he growled.
He shoved Micah backwards, detaching his skilled mouth from my flesh. I whined with the loss of contact, but Mason’s fingers were there after a short few seconds. He shoved two inside of me, curling them upward as he pumped his wrist.
Everything was happening so fast that my head spun, my chest heaving with rapid breaths, stomach quivering.
My shirt was ripped off of me so I laid completely naked on the cool leather, squirming while Mason fingered my pussy, Micah lowering himself on top of me, hungry mouth returning to my clit.
He licked and lapped and kissed and sucked, all of it happening while Mason kept wedging his fingers deeper, his tongue pressing past my yielding lips, seeking my own.
Pleasure soaked my veins, warming my face, making me twist and writhe, breathy moans escaping my mouth right onto Mason’s possessive lips.
Different hands grabbed my naked breasts, pinching my nipples, so roughly dominating on my arching body.
Micah ate me hungrily, ravenously. More unhinged than I usually saw him. Maybe Mason made him this way.
He buried his face in my cunt, eyebrows furrowed, tongue lashing against my swollen clit.
Proving his ownership.
Mason was trying to get Micah off me again, trying to put himself between my thighs, but Micah was doing the same fucking thing to him.
My legs were pressed open wide, mouths and hands attacking all available skin, getting more aggressive with each passing second.
I was so beyond turned on I couldn’t stop the whiny noises pouring from my parted lips.
“I fucking had her first,” Mason gritted out.
“Well, I have her now.” Micah’s expression was dripping with feral obsession.
“Get out.”
“No. You’re in my house.”
That was enough to really piss Mason off.
Both of them were off me in an instant, clawing at each other, turning what’d been a scuff into a full blown fight in the living room.
Fists slinging across faces, blood and ichor spraying, shirts ripped to shreds.
The sound of skin colliding paired with masculine noises of pain and aggression.
Bright sparks of electricity erupting from Mason’s knuckles and burying themselves in Micah’s skin.
Blankness entering Mason’s eyes in intervals while Micah disoriented him.
It was almost hypnotizing to watch. I’d not been allowed to see much of this before.
And as violent as it felt right now, I was still aware in the back of my mind that this was only a small fraction of what they were capable of.
Especially Mason.