Page 135 of Breathe Like Hell

As much as I despised Micah, he was no less attractive to me.

He had his mouth all over her tits as she started grinding down on him instead, rocking back and forth as he bit marks into her breasts and kissed her nipples. Her moans were breathy and needy and torturous for me to hear knowing I wasn’t the one causing them.

After a minute, Micah was guiding her off his lap, onto her feet.

Shit.

Micah walked her over in my direction, his eyes finally finding mine again for the first time since this whole thing began. I knew how wrecked I looked. Sweating and worked up and hard. But his gaze wasn’t so guarded that I couldn’t see the way this affected him, too.

He was swimming in his lust, same as me.

Yeah, he wanted to punish me by making me watch. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t enjoying my eyes on him.

His gaze slid back to Dakota’s body in between us.

He bent her forward, guiding her to brace her hands on my shoulders, then grabbed her hips and lined himself up with her entrance, groaning as he slid in.

Then he started to fuck her, just like that.

“Micah,” I warned, pointlessly.

I felt every thrust with the way her palms pressed against my chest, her nails digging into my skin.

“Mason.” A taunt.

Dakota’s tits bounced every time Micah rocked his hips forward, slamming his dick inside of her. I wanted to die. I wanted to come. My cock was so agonizingly hard, the cotton of my underwear stretched so thin and damp, that I thought my skin might be visible through the material if I were to look down.

I wanted to come more than I’d ever wanted to come before.

My mind was entirely singular.

Full of explicit visuals.

My erection jerked every time Micah’s hips snapped, my frenulum chafing on the fabric. I was panting like a bitch.

Dakota’s eyes met mine, her eyebrows desperately slanted together, her soft lips parted on a moan as Micah thrust in deep and hard one last time. He groaned as he came, spilling his load inside her while I could do nothing but watch. His chest was heaving, sweat slick all over his skin.

He ran a rough hand through his hair, pushing it off his forehead, then gave a few more shallow pumps before pulling out, his dick glistening. My eyes flicked downward and I caught sight of the slow trickle of liquid down Dakota’s inner thighs.

Micah’s cum.

He stood her up and she looked so fucking gorgeous like this. Cheeks flushed, hickeys on her tits, tangled hair, my ex’s cum dripping down her thighs. Freshly fucked.

And I was still dying with the need for release.

My balls throbbed and ached, pulling up tight, my dick harder than ever.

“How you like getting cucked?” Micah asked, sifting his fingers through his messy hair, bicep flexing.

I didn’t respond.

His eyes flicked down my body to where my cock was straining obscenely against the fabric of my boxers, the waistband barely gapping off my stomach, the large wet spot of precum easily visible.

He reached down and hooked his fingers in the elastic waist, then tugged it down, my erection springing free, bobbing up against my abdomen. I sucked in a breath, the rope digging into my wrists, taut across my chest.

“Seems like you liked it,” Micah commented, appraising my aroused state. “Maybe even more than I liked doing it to you.”

He leaned over me, then let a string of saliva drip out of his mouth. It landed right on my neglected dick, trickling down towards my balls. I suppressed my shiver.