Chapter 41 #2
I knew how that felt.
I hated that I knew how that felt.
I hated that I kept thinking about him like this.
Violent notions threatened the edges of my brain, twisting like black smoke. My fingers flexed on Dakota’s hips, digging in just a bit too hard, pressing on her fresh bruises.
With Micah, I could hurt her more. Make her more scared. Fuck her up more.
Has he made you fear for your life before?
How does he do it?
Do you like it as much as when I do it?
Micah grabbed the front of her throat, pulling her up as she winced, tilting her head back against his chest. Her spine was arched, her slim waist curving as she adjusted to the angle. In a way, this felt meant to be. The three of us like this.
The veins on the back of Micah’s hand stood out against his skin, tendons pulling and flexing while he collared her neck.
The new angle gave me enough space to thrust my own hips a bit, pumping into her pussy as Micah took her ass, both of us moving.
“Come for us, Masters,” he said, his voice rough and deep.
For us.
His palm landed on her ass, not as hard as he would’ve wanted it to, but hard enough to make her cry out as the impact stung against her fresh marks.
I felt his cock swell even further inside of her with her noise of pain.
That subtle sensation—and the silent, sadistic reminder it came with—was enough to make me throb.
“You can do it. Show us how much you like being this slutty.”
Dakota moaned.
“Rub your clit,” I instructed, taking one of her hands and moving it between her thighs. She was so fucked-out she could hardly do what I’d told her, but the moment her fingers found her clit, she caught on, rubbing herself faster.
Her tits bounced as he fucked her, long strands of blonde hair draping over her shoulders, trickling past her waist to brush her hips and my hands gripping the top of her thighs.
I reached up to join Micah’s grip on her throat, my palm layering over the back of his hand, squeezing harder until I saw her eyes glaze over, her head swimming and more wetness dripping from her soaked pussy all over my dick.
“You feel so fucking good, baby. You’re strangling my cock,” I groaned.
Her eyes were squeezed shut now, her pussy spasming, her fingers moving desperately over her sensitive clit. I rolled one of her nipples between my thumb and forefinger, and Micah pinched the other one.
She shattered.
The noise that came out of her was more than a sob than a moan, her whole body tensing up, her pussy clamping down so hard on my cock I felt my own orgasm building inside of me. Cum shot out of my dick as I grabbed Dakota’s waist to hold her down, my thighs tensed and hips pumping up into her.
She slumped forward to lay on my chest again, completely spent. Micah thrust into her a few more rough times, then came with a groan.
In the aftermath, the three of us were quiet, save for our heavy breathing.
━━━━━
Once Dakota was clean and wearing comfy clothes, we began the birthday festivities—much to her dismay. But I didn’t care about her dismay, and neither did Micah.
Plus, we’d already decided we were setting our differences aside for the night.
It was her birthday, for fuck’s sake.
I’d arrived with pizza earlier and put it in the oven to keep it warm, along with Dakota’s cake.
It was an angel food cake that I’d bought premade from the store, then made some strawberry icing myself for it.
The icing consisted almost entirely of powdered sugar, with a few strawberries and a splash of milk.
I’d never made it before, but it tasted great in my opinion.
The three of us sat at the table to eat the pizza, then Micah put the extra in the fridge while I grabbed the number candles I’d bought and stuck them on top of her cake. Dakota waited patiently in her seat with her eyes closed, so as not to ruin the surprise.
“Are we going to sing?” I asked Micah in a whisper.
He looked at me as he dimmed the lights in the kitchen. “I don’t think so?”
“Alright.”
I lit the candles, then walked the pink cake over to where Dakota was sitting, placing it on the table in front of her.
“You can open your eyes, baby,” I murmured.
Her jaw dropped open as soon as her eyes did, a million emotions flitting across her sweet face. “Did you make a cake for me?”
“I bought the cake but made the icing.” I sat down next to her, Micah sitting across from us. With the lights lowered, most of the illumination came from Dakota’s candles, casting a soft orange glow on the table.
“How did you know what type of cake to get?” Dakota asked, still staring at it with wide eyes.
“I actually stalked your mom’s Facebook,” I said. Micah had tasked me with figuring out what sort of cake or dessert to get for Dakota’s birthday, and he’d suggested checking social media. It’d been my idea to look up her mom’s name, though.
“My mom has a Facebook?”
“Yeah. There aren’t many posts, but there’s one of you for your eighth birthday. Your golden birthday. You had this type of cake, so I figured it might be your typical birthday thing.” Also, she’d once texted me that she liked strawberries, which was confirmation enough for me.
“Oh,” she breathed, tears beading on her lower lashes. “Thank you.”
In her expression, I could see the unsaid words. There is no typical birthday thing, because my birthday is typically overlooked.
But I was determined to change the way she felt about this day, erase the anxiety and pervasive sadness, make her feel special.
The light from the candles was soft on her face, making her cheeks glow, showing the slight glisten in her eyes.
22
“Make a wish, baby,” I said, brushing my fingers over her forearm.
“I already did,” she whispered, then blew out her candles, little ribbons of smoke drifting off the black wicks as she wiped her eyes. Micah took the candles out of the cake, then offered them to Dakota so she could lick pink icing off the bottom of each one while he got a knife.
He returned and cut a slice for each of us, sliding a plate across the table to me before sitting down. We both watched Dakota expectantly, waiting for the birthday girl to take the first bite. A little laugh escaped her as her eyes bounced back and forth between us.
“Both of you look like dogs waiting for a command.” She giggled, stabbing the cake with her fork. “Go. Eat.”