Break - Page 51

“You know what I think?” he whispers into my hair. “I think the only time you ever really felt alive, felt like you were worth something, was when I looked at you like I worshipped you.”

I suck in air and pull back, separating myself from the magnetic strength of this desire. I try to shove Dashiell away, but I’m trapped in his embrace like I fell into a trap. “Fuck you, Dash. You’re like everyone else. You pretend to be on my side, but in the end, you want to break me.”

“Oh, that’s rich, Princess Koslova! Are you insinuating you have a heart?”

I push all the buttons on the door handle, needing an escape from the proximity of this psychopath. I finally get it open and leap out into the dimly lit garage. “Leave me alone, Dashiell! My life is better without you in it!”

I storm toward the elevator. I’m glad I’m wearing dance warm-ups, sweats, and a hoodie instead of heels and eveningwear. I push the elevator button a thousand times in impatient succession, desperate to ride alone, far away from this man who makes me crazy.

I keep pushing as I watch Dashiell advance out of the corner of my eye, and when it still doesn’t come, I shove open the stairwell door and launch myself up the stairs.

It’s cold in the stairwell. The shitty fluorescent lights do little to brighten the hard cement climb, but I take the steps two at a time. From the third floor, I hear the door slam open and then creak loudly as it closes. In my heart, I know it’s Dashiell, but my heartbeat picks up and the rush of blood rises in my ears.

“Natayla!”

I pick up my pace. It’s a whole hell of a lot of stairs to climb to prove a point, but I mean to finish what I’ve started.

I pant, climbing at a run, using the handrail to propel myself forward, but I glance down and see Dash has gained, and he’s one staircase away.

“Leave me alone!” I scream as Dash catches the hood of my sweatshirt. He yanks me back and I fly off the stair and crash into his chest. He holds me tightly, my folded arms caging me in his.

“Don’t fucking run from me, Sam. Self-preservation. Have some fucking sense for once in your life,” he says.

“I hate you!” I holler.

Dashiell smothers my scream with his hand and forces me against the wall, pinning my hands to the cold, gray cement. Then his mouth is on mine, his tongue diving inside, begging for forgiveness, for release, for the fire to burn him. He bites at my lips and tears stream down my face as he kisses me breathless. His erect manhood presses into my leg and I rub against him, hungry for friction.

“Oh my God, just fuck me,” I pant into his angry kiss.

Dashiell laughs, and the sound echoes off the gloomy walls of the stairwell. He tears my sweatshirt off as I wrench out of my leotard and step out of my sweatpants while tugging at the elastic of his. He shirks his sweatshirt and t-shirt in one move, with a yank over his head, and I’m biting at his pecs, scratching his biceps, and sucking his nipples. I cannot possibly get enough of him.

He reaches out and pinches my nipples so hard, I almost see black. Then his mouth is on my breast, biting where he pinched, sending waves of helpless need straight to my center like bolts of electricity.

“Please,” I say breathlessly. My hand is in his boxer briefs, tugging on his huge erection. I finger the helmeted head and use his cum to lubricate his cock while I stroke him.

“I want you to suck me off, drink my cum again. Fill up on me, Sam.” He grabs his manhood by the shaft and roughly tugs and massages as he stares at my breasts.

I nod and fall to my knees. His hands immediately go to my hair, and he grabs the loose waves and wraps the bulk of it around his fingers. I suck his huge dick into my mouth and relish the salty brine of his precum on my tongue.

“I want to feed you, Taye,” he says as he controls my head.

Dash pushes so deep that I gag on the length and girth of him. He fingers my nipples and my pussy still pulsates with need and want. I realize in frustration that Dash is taking his pleasure and leaving me with nothing. Again.

He fucks my face until my jaw hurts, until I close my eyes and pray for it to be done.

Then suddenly, he pulls out, yanks my leotard the rest of the way down, and falls back on the steps, pulling me with him.

Dash lifts me with agility until I’m straddling his muscular form, right below his massive erection. “Ride my cock, Princess Koslova. I want to watch you come on my dick.”

Tags: Mila Crawford Romance
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