Page 23 of My Soul for Sale

“I want you, Sloane. I’ve wanted you since we were teenagers,” I admit.

“Then take me, Atlas. We can talk more about the past later. But right now I want more.”

My cock is painfully hard in my pants and I know I’m going to have to take this slow or I’ll come prematurely and that will kill the fucking mood. I want to make this last as long as I can.

With Sloane cradled in my arms, I stand up and ascend the stairs to my bedroom. Her weight is a comforting presence against my chest, her breath soft against my neck.

Pushing the door open with a gentle nudge of my foot, I step inside, and with a swift kick, close it behind me, shutting out the outside world.

Lowering Sloane onto my soft mattress, her body sinks into it and for a moment, I simply stand there, drinking in the sight of her in my bed. Something I’ve imagined for years.

Unable to resist any longer, I crawl over top of her, my gaze never leaving her face. In this moment, there are no words, no need for pretense or explanation—only the silent exchange of longing and desire between us.

Grabbing the hem of her dress, I push it up her body until it’s over her breasts. She lifts herself with ease so I can pull the magenta fabric off over her head.

“You’re a fucking image, baby.” I run my thumb across my bottom lip as I commit her to memory. Full hips, breasts that are trying to spill out of the sides of her bralette, and her soft belly. I bend down, hovering over her, and kiss her again.

As our kiss deepens, her hands move to the buttons of my black polo and she slowly undoes them before grabbing the bottom and trying to pull it off me. Helping her, I rip it off and throw it to the floor beside her dress.

Her fingers dance across my stomach and chest, and I pull my lips from hers to kiss her neck and shoulder, until I get to her supple breasts.

Nipping her flesh through the blue fabric, she gasps and I pull the lace down just enough to free her large tan areola. Her nipple stiff and begging for my mouth.

I circle her hard peak with my tongue before sucking it into my mouth and biting gently.

She moans and my cock jerks in my pants. There’s not a doubt in my mind that there’s a wet spot on my briefs and pants from pre-cum.

Sloane arches her back, pushing her tit against my face even more, and I flick my tongue back and forth.

Easing up on her nipple, I trail kisses down her belly until I get to the edge of her panties. I press kisses over the top of the lace, down her mound to her slit, and run my nose up the fabric, inhaling her scent.

“You’re fucking soaked, Sloane. You want this just as bad as I do, don’t you?”

I groan at the small sample of her taste through the lace. My hands find the sides of her bottoms and I tug them down, forcing her to lift her hips so I can pull them over her ass and down her legs.

I lick my lips at the sight of her bare pussy. She hisses as I run my fingers through her folds.

“So responsive.”

“Please, Atlas,” she whispers.

I smile. “You never have to beg, baby. I’ll give you anything you want. Want me to live in this pussy? I will. Want me to eat you every morning. I will. Just tell me.”

Between her legs, I close my eyes and take a breath.

Another fantasy is about to be crossed off my list.

Sloane’s pussy is perfect; slightly darker than the rest of her skin with puffy lips that hide her clit. She glistens under my praise.

Not being able to take it any longer, I push her thighs further apart and dive in. I attack her clit with my tongue, flicking up and down like a man starved.

“Fuuuck!” she cries and grinds against my face.

That’s right, baby. Let me make you feel good.

Her essence soaks my beard, and I can feel it dripping down my chin. I don’t care. I want to brand the feel of my tongue on her cunt.

Reaching up, I rub my thumb over her hole in circles, teasing her.

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