Page 2 of Make Me, Break Me

I sighed as I ran my hands down my body. Yup, Dex knew how to show a girl a good time. I’d remember his fuck session right through to next weekend when we’d do it again and again. Every single Friday night, like clockwork. Or was that cockwork? The man fucked me into a brainless state. And now he needed to leave so I could function for the rest of the week.

Despite my determination to be alone my fingers traced through the mess he’d left on my stomach and thighs. How many times had he come on me? And inside me? The man had endless endurance. The sigh became a moan as I touched my swollen, over-sensitized clit. All movement at the door stopped as I played with myself.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Dex rumbled in the sort of tone that indicated the randy law student was ready to go again.

Good feelings gone.

“Out, out,out.” I threw both my pillows at him without looking at what I aimed to hit.

Dex laughed as he opened my door. “Sweet dreams, Zin. Thanks for the night of debaucherous fucking sin.” He laughed his ass off down the hall, apparently proud of his shitty little ditty—see, I could do it too—and likely woke the whole dorm.

Fuck them. I needed sleep, and I needed it now. My head slapped the mattress before I remembered I’d thrown my pillows at Dex and the tall, muscular shit hadn’t thrown them back.

Fuck my life.

CHAPTER TWO

DEX

Friday never came around fast enough for my liking. One night a week with Zin left a lot of evening hours open. I could lie to myself and say that was why I took up illegal cage fighting on the weekends after I saw her, but the truth was that every night without Zinzi in my arms and my bed was a cruel sort of torture. That, and she still hadn't twigged that I was so bored with my coursework that I didn’t spend my nights studying or cramming come exam week, unless it was to design new ways to make her come.

I got an extra payout for each fight I won—and I never went into the cage with the intent to lose. Plus, weekend fights meant I was mostly healed by the time I saw her again the following Friday when we bounced like bunnies without the reproduction issue to ruin the afterglow.

And what an afterglow. Zinzi Jones fucked like a champ, sucked like a pro, and snored like a kitten. I wanted to keep her in my bed, in my arms, and the fuck away from the rest of Rippton U’s over indulgent student population who ogled her glossy black locks and slim frame at least as often as I did. Miles of long, creamy legs she usually tucked into biker boots and skintight dark jeans I got the honor of peeling from her delicious fucking body once a week that were destined for my eyes only.

Twice, if I didn’t piss her off the way I had tonight.

I blew out a sharp breath and rolled onto my back, already hard enough to rub one out at the memory of her clenching, soaked pussy wrapped around my cock. I fisted my length, pumping once, but it was no good. If it wasn’t her, I couldn't. Not after the night we’d had. My head hit my pillow—not hers—and I groaned aloud.

“Oi! Get all fucking lovelorn with your chick, not in my fucking ear!” One of my roommates, a Brit called Nelson who claimed some rank or other in the House of Lords, slammed his fist into the other side of our thin, adjoining bedroom walls.

“Fuck off,” I grumbled.

My mutter wasn’t loud enough for him to hear, but he was right. I should have gotten all my jollies out on Zin—or in Zin. Hell, in my frame of mind I could try for open mike night at the local college bar on a Monday evening for shits and giggles.

“You’re funny,” Nelson muttered on the other side of my paper thin wall, though I knew he hadn’t heard my not-so-witty repartee.

Too thin walls for an extravagant, billionaire-offspring-worthy-only college like Rippton U that was situated in its own freaking town in eastern California. Hell, maybe I should have pledged for a frat, but halfway through my second year, I really didn’t have the energy to give a fuck. Only for Zin.

Ignoring my roomie’s outburst and glad my third was away on his super yacht getting his own jollies out with his current crush and fighting with his mafia daddy—his real one—I palmed my cock for a second attempt. It was all too easy to recall the feel of Zin’s soft but strong body beneath mine, the way her eyes glowed as she came, my name wrapped up in her lips like a fucking Christmas bow months too early.

Even when I rubbed myself raw twice over, sleep evaded me.

A scarred fist came flying at my face, followed in short order by a poorly timed kick. I ducked both, avoiding my opponent’s roundhouse that missed me by the proverbial mile. I didn’t even have to dance backward though I bounced on my toes to keep my energy up anyway. He tired fast while I still danced around the heavyset motherfucker, tracking him across the cage floor and wearing him out for the hell of it. He stumbled a step and his next lunge was more in the realm of haymaker than jab.

Good.

I ducked his next two wide swipes, dropping one shoulder in a fake to earn myself an opening. The big guy followed my lead into the feint. I clocked the side of his head with a sharp elbow that sent him sprawling forward onto the sweat and blood stained floor in an uncontrolled drop. Just to make sure he didn’t get up again to haunt me, I planted a knee and a second elbow into his back.

Banging his forehead against the cement floor finished him off, his body limp at my feet. Blood splattered the concrete from the dude’s broken nose, but I managed not to get any of it on me.

The ref gave me a thumbs up from the outside of the cage, the chicken shit, while the crowd roared my name. One more scratch on the post beneath my initials, alongside the maniacs who fought before me, but I was fast catching the olds in terms of body count.

It wasn’t like there’d be any evidence left for the police to find to screw with my future in law if they finally managed to get wind of the operation. I suspected that Jericho, the local fight organizer, paid several of the dirtier uniforms enough tolook the other way a few times a week, as well as for a few side gigs I actively avoided. The whole place was temporary, and everything would be ash before the cops had a chance to investigate.

My name echoed around the bloodstained arena. It still didn’t sound as pretty as when Zin said it, swathed in sweat and clenching my cock with her hot little pussy. I kept the image of her beneath me in my mind as I laced my fingers through the cage’s metal exoskeleton. Giving the rusty wire a shake, I played up to the crowd until they screamed my name louder and louder.

It still wasn’t enough. Zinzi shadowed my thoughts until I searched the crowd for her, but she’d never be here or see me like this.Pity.A growing chunk of my heart needed to show her the darkest parts of my kink-fucked soul, but I couldn’t scare her away like that. I couldn’t lose her.

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