Page 49 of Bonds of Obsession

“Say it was nothing, vicious.” Atlas’s voice cuts through mine, sharp and clear even though I know he’s tired and hurting. “Go ahead. Tell me it meant nothing. I want to see in your eyes that you know it’s a lie.”

I open my mouth, but the words die in my throat. My heart pounds against my ribs like it’s trying to break free, and when I finally speak, it comes out as barely more than a whisper. “It was supposed to be nothing.”

He shakes his head against the pillow, and even that small motion is filled with a fierce certainty that almost takes my breath away.

“That’s not what this is. You know that’s not what this is. Not anymore.” His gaze locks with mine. “Do you want to know what this thing between us really is?”

I shake my head, unable to force words past the tightness in my throat. Unable to admit what I’ve known for longer than I want to acknowledge.

“Say it.” The command in his voice makes my whole body tremble. Fuck. Even half-dead, he still has this effect on me. “You know what it is, vicious. Say it.”

My chest feels too tight, like all the air has been squeezed out of my lungs. Out of the entire fucking room. But I can’t look away from his eyes, and I can’t escape the truth that’s burning there. When I finally speak, the word falls from my lips like a confession, like a surrender.

“Everything.”

Something sparks in Atlas’s eyes at my confession—hunger and vindication and raw need all tangled together. His hand finds mine, fingers wrapping around my wrist with surprising strength given his condition.

“Damn right it is,” he growls, and before I can respond, he’s tugging me down toward him. His lips find mine, hot and demanding and everything I’ve been missing. The kiss deepens, but I force myself to pull back when he makes a small groan that sounds a lot more like pain than pleasure.

“Atlas—” I start to push away, worried about hurting him worse than he already is. But he doesn’t let me finish, and he sure as hell doesn’t let me get very far. His hand slides into my hair, pulling me back down to him with an intensity that’s as desperate as it is powerful.

“Don’t,” he breathes against my mouth. “Don’t make me beg, vicious. Because I will.” His voice drops lower, rougher. “I’ll fucking beg if that’s what it takes. Need this. Need you.”

The raw honesty in his voice breaks down any barriers I might’ve tried putting up, even if they were for his own good. I lean down and capture his mouth again, trying to be gentle but getting lost in the heat of him. His tongue slides against mine,and I can’t help the small whimper that escapes me. Every brush of his lips reminds me that he’s here, that he’s alive, that I didn’t lose him to Ambrose’s sadistic games.

Atlas groans into the kiss, all pleasure this time, as the sound vibrates through both our bodies.

“Want you so fucking bad,” he murmurs against my mouth. “Been dreaming about this. About you. Even when they had me knocked out and half-dead, you were all I could think about.”

I pull back, forcing myself to be rational even though the heat building between us is impossible to ignore. “You’re hurt. We shouldn’t?—”

“I need this, vicious. Need to feel you. To know this is real.”

His hands find my hips, and he lifts me so easily even though the physical exertion has to hurt him, guiding me up until I’m straddling his waist. The position makes it impossible to ignore how much he wants this—wants me.

My breath catches as his hard cock throbs against me, even through the layers of clothes and sheets separating us. “Atlas…”

“Please.” His gaze locks with mine. “I told you I’m not afraid to beg. I can handle it. I need you close.”

I lean down to kiss him again, careful to avoid the visible bruises and cuts. His fingers tangle in my hair as he groans against my mouth.

“Inside you,” he breathes. “I need to be inside you.”

I hesitate, studying his face. There’s pain there, yes—but also a desperation that matches the ache that’s been building in my own chest. After everything we’ve been through, maybe we both need this connection.

Slowly, carefully, I help him out of his pants, doing my very best to avoid causing him more pain. Then I stand and strip off my own clothes, faster this time, impatient now that I can see every part of his muscular body and every inch of his hard cock.

His eyes rake over me with raw hunger. “Come here.” He reaches for me again. “Let me feel you.”

I close my hand around his cock, teasing him gently and enjoying the way his eyes roll back slightly with every slow stroke. Then I sink down inch by inch, taking my time even though I want nothing more than to ride him so hard I forget about everything else going on outside these four walls.

My deliberately slow speed has to be torture for him too, so I’m not surprised when he tries to take control, gripping my hips and thrusting up into me at the same time.

“No.” I try to match my expression to my stern tone even though I’m dying to take all of him deep inside me. “We take it slow or I walk out that door.”

The warning is enough to make his hands immediately fall away, but I can still see every bit of the hunger in his eyes.

“Now don’t move,” I instruct, placing my hands on his chest, partly to brace myself and partly just to feel his warm skin. “I’ll do everything. But I want to hear you talk me through it.”

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