Page 54 of Save Me

Try to hurt me then, fucker.

Micah stands there, looking up at me, blue eyes wide, darting between my lips and eyes. His own pink lips are parted slightly, tiny puffs of breath caressing my chin since he’s just a bit shorter than me.

Electricity crackles across my skin, and I feel terrified. I feel like I’m on the crest of a huge waterfall and I’m about to jump. And that’s the thing–between long work hours and the bottle of cheap whiskey, I’ve forgotten why I don’t want to jump in the first place.

I won’t get hurt again. I’m too smart for that. But fuck, Micah is looking so goddamn hot.

I’m going on the offensive.

“Maddox?” Micah looks up at me with a little confusion mixed with…trust. Like he’d follow me into war. And I have no idea why he’s looking at me like that. Shouldn’t there be a little more challenge in his gaze? A little more barely concealed contempt?

Micah licks his lips, and my attention is back on them, my whole body wanting to connect with his, alive with need.

No, not need. Gameplay. That’s all this is.

I step closer until my chest bumps Micah’s, and our lips brush. As soon as that touch is gone, I want him to need more. To need more and more until he can’t fucking breathe.

I smash my lips to Micah’s, kissing him and lighting off a bunch of tiny fireworks under my skin. His lips are so damn soft, and he kisses me back with passion, matching my movement. I press harder into him, and then he parts those lips, making way for me. Giving in. Submitting.

A thrill of victory washes over me.

I take the space Micah’s allowed me and more, licking until he opens all the way, a moan escaping one of us; I’m not sure who. I feel his piercing sliding against my tongue, and immediately, I think about how it would feel on my dick. Then, I’m biting at his lips, nibbling them.

Micah melts, and the pressure of my body makes him take a step back. Immediately, I feel the loss. I step into him, wrapping an arm around him so he can’t get away.

Not that he’s trying. His hands wrap around my back and head, tangling in my hair and yanking. It sends a rush of blood to my already hard dick and also a thrill of defiance.

I bite his bottom lip, hard. Micah whimpers, looking up into my eyes. It’s such a beautiful, submissive look that for a second, it takes my breath away. He’s looking at me like I hung the moon and stars. Like he’d let me do anything I wanted and he’d love it.

A cold, twisty feeling hits my gut, and the tiniest, smallest fear that Micah is actually being nice to me makes me shiver. What if he is? I’m not being nice to him. I’m playing the game. And what if he isn’t? He is, but what if he isn’t?

Suddenly, I’m so cold, and my hands shake.

Micah blinks up at me, and his lashes–damn, they’re so long they fucking near brush his cheeks. He parts his lips and pushes his head up to kiss me again. He kisses me like it’s all going to be okay. Like everything, Arthur, my apartment, the fucking dentist, all means nothing compared to this moment. A bolt of something so strong shoots through me that all I can think about is Micah under me. Micah opening up to me. Micah letting me own his holes. Micah giving me control.

And then, from behind Micah, there’s a loud THUMP.

My adrenaline spikes, and I pull Micah closer to me, turning so I’m between him and the noise. I scan to see what the hell it was.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

I jump straight up in the air, whirling around to see Princess right by the stool, scrambling to get back to his feet. Above him is a plate of food. The sound must have been him falling off the chair.

Princess gives an unimpressed flick of his tail, then stalks off.

“Don’t look,” I whisper. “He doesn’t want us to know we saw.” At least, I think that’s what I’m saying. My head is spinning from what we just did, and all I can think of is Maddox, Maddox, Maddox.

I want more. I want everything. I want Maddox to take what he wants from me right here and now.

Maddox makes a small sound, and I can feel the vibration in his chest because I’m still holding him, and I don’t want to let him go. Ever.

And then I get another whiff of alcohol, and suddenly, I’m washed with shame. Is Maddox drunk? Am I taking advantage of him right now?

I try to pull away, but Maddox pulls me closer, his strong arms banding around me with a force that suggests my movement is completely up to him.

“Where are you going?” His breath brushes my neck, and I shiver, brushing my hands down his back.

“Are you… Is this okay?” I hate saying it, but I want to know that Maddox is okay, truly.