Page 31 of Monsters Like Us
His hands tighten on my hips. “Take it like a good girl,” he rasps.
I sink lower and lower until I reach the point that I feel like I just can’t take any more. Panic fills me as I bite my lip, my eyes pleading with his. “I-I can’t.”
“You can take it, little murderess,” he seductively whispers, fisting my hair and yanking my head back. He licks my neck, whispering against my pulse, “I have faith in you.”
Before I can utter a sound, he slams inside me, yanking me forward and covering my mouth with his as I scream. His thumb circles my clit, sending waves of pleasure through my body that loosen my taut muscles.
My nails bite into his shoulders when he thrusts into me again.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he whispers. Pleasure ripples through me from his words. The world pulses as his hands hold me steady, watching me as if memorizing the way my body reacts.
His hips lift, rocking into me a few more times before he commands, “Bounce on my cock.”
The fear dissipates as the pleasure takes over. The confidence in his eyes empowers me. I rock my hips up, then slam back down on him. We moan softly against each other’s lips, our hearts pounding through our sweatshirts.
His fingers are steady, expertly stroking my clit while I ride him. My lower belly coils tighter, already nearing the edge.
He keeps his eyes on mine the whole time, as if my face will tell him when to stop.
“Beg for me,” he murmurs, his voice raw. “Say my name and ask me to finish you.”
Something in me unfurls—pride and want braided together—and without shame I say it, whispering his name like a prayer, “Micah… please. Don’t stop. Make me?—”
He answers by wildly rubbing my clit, and I cryout, the sound raw. He moves his hand with a steady rhythm, his thumb pressed flat and circling, and I lose myself in the sensation: the burn, the ache, the dizzying lift.
“Good girl,” he breathes, and the praise makes me shatter. My body falls over the edge, and the world tilts into a long, searing release. I come with his name on my lips, my hands clamping down on his shoulders as the waves roll through me. He holds me through it, fingers never letting go, grounding me as I tumble.
I keep rocking against him, wanting him to finish. I know he’s close by the sweat dotting his brow, the tightness in his jaw like he’s seconds from breaking.
“Come for me, Micah. I want to feel you.” I lift higher, then slam myself down.
“Are you... on the pill?” he rasps.
I nod. “For my... period. Cramps,” I mutter as I ride him faster. “Come in me, Micah.”
He moans, his dick throbbing inside me. He grips my hips and thrusts deep, spilling his come inside me.
I move my hips until he stops pulsing inside me. I still, wrap my arms around him, and press my forehead against his.
When the tremors fade, he doesn’t withdraw. He brings his mouth to mine again in a softer, slower kiss that tastes like warning and worship. For a moment, the room is quiet except for our rasping breaths.
We stay there, tangled and raw, the danger humming at the edges of everything we’ve done. But in the hush that follows, something steadies in me: the knowledge that this is shared. Nothing was forced for either of us, and that changes everything.
“You’re mine,” he whispers, holding me tightly.
I nod, my pulse finally settling.
Outside, Hollowaykeeps turning—the distant murmur of voices, light footsteps, and the creek of ancient pipes filling the air.
But in Micah’s room, we build a small, dangerous, private world stitch by stitch.
CHAPTER 26
Katana
By the timeI stagger back to my room, my legs feel weak, my lips swollen, my body buzzing in places I didn’t know could burn. Every nerve sings with the ghost of his hands, the weight of his body, the growl of“you’re mine”still threading through me.
I shut the door, press my back against it, and squeeze my eyes shut. My fingers are trembling as I touch my lips. They still taste like him.
