Page 31 of Breathe Like Hell

“Stand up,” he instructed and let go of me.

Reluctantly, I got to my feet, my legs trembling slightly.

“Never come here without showering ever again.”

“He made me⁠—”

“Stop,” Micah cut me off, my face getting red. “Just say okay.”

“Okay.”

“Where did he come?”

“On my back,” I whispered, shifting my weight from foot to foot.

“Turn around and pull your sweater up. Show me.”

Fuck.

I did as he said, slowly turning to face away from him and lifting the hem of my sweatshirt, cool air sweeping across my back. A shiver trickled through my shoulders, my belly quivering.

Micah’s hand settled on my hip, his thumb grazing the edge of my waistband. He didn’t say anything. I didn’t move.

“Stay as you are,” he instructed, then his touch left my body and I heard the sound of a drawer being opened, the crinkle of a package being taken out. There was a cool, wet sensation on my back—a wet wipe. Micah was cleaning Mason’s cum off of me.

I tried to focus on breathing, my lips rolling together and my eyes staring out the window. Tiny raindrops had begun to smack the glass.

He stood up and tossed the wipe in the trash, then used his hold on my hip to drag me to him, chest to chest. I peered up at him, heart hammering as I waited for whatever he was about to say.

But he didn’t say anything.

Micah forced his hand below my waistband, shoving his way into my jeans without unbuttoning them, grabbing my ass, massaging me, his hand trapped firmly between the tight fabric of my jeans and my skin.

“Is there cum on your ass, too?”

“I don’t know,” I panted. “I don’t think so.”

“Let’s make sure.”

Micah spun me around and unbuttoned my jeans then tugged them down to the tops of my thighs as he sat back in his chair. I flexed my fingers, trying to keep myself composed, praying he would touch me the way I wanted—but knowing he wouldn’t. All I could do was endure him.

“Is there?” I managed to ask.

“No.”

My humiliation lessened, ever-so-slightly.

He stretched the elastic edges of my underwear with his thumbs, slipping under the cotton, then bunched the material up in my ass like a thong.

“This where he fucked you? In this perfect, slutty cunt?” His fingertip skimmed along the very edges of my underwear, brushing soft cotton, making me shiver.

I squeezed my eyes shut. My whole body ached.

And the fact that I could still feel Mason from when he stretched me on his cock this morning only turned me on more.

“Fuck, Dakota. You just let me do whatever I want to you, huh?” Micah said, his voice hoarser now.

He palmed my ass, his thumb pressing to the tender crease at the top of my inner thigh, barely pushing between my legs. If he moved another inch, he’d feel the wetness soaking through my underwear. He could probably see my pathetic arousal darkening the cotton already, and the thought of that erotic sight made me weak.