Page 55 of On the Edge

He laughs, and because he does it with his mouth on my dick, I feel it in my pelvis. Biting my lip, I tangle one hand in the sheets and reach the other for his head. I have never touched anything as soft as Atlas’ hair.

I’m trying very hard to be quiet and not make any embarrassing noises, so I hear it very clearly when Atlas gags. Pulling away, he reaches up to wipe the back of one hand over his mouth while slowly continuing to jack me with the other. Before I can ask if he’s okay, he grins at me. It’s an impish sort of grin, particularly when paired with his flushed cheeks and bright eyes.

“Let’s try that again, shall we?” he asks, before leaning over and sucking me so deep I hit the back of his throat.

I come so quickly, it takes even me by surprise. Atlas makes a startled noise and jerks his head back, but immediately hollows his cheeks and slides back down, sucking in earnest. Eyes squeezed closed, I press myself into themattress in a fight against my body to thrust upward. I have never felt so out of control of myself as I do in this moment.

Atlas sits up, but doesn’t take his hand away. Instead, he idly strokes me as I soften, his other hand resting on my thigh. When I open my eyes and meet his, he smiles at me.

“Okay?” he asks.

“I am very sorry. I did not mean to ejaculate so quickly.”

“Oh my god, don’t sayejaculate,” he scolds me, mimicking my accent. I grin. He doesn’t seem mad, and is joking and smiling. Blowjob Atlas is apparently a happy Atlas.

“Shall I?” I ask, gesturing vaguely in the direction of his waist while maintaining polite eye contact.

“Oh, no.” He snorts. “I was too worked up to wait. Jacked myself the whole time. I already came—all over your leg, in fact.”

I sit up, surprised. There is most certainly cum on my leg, and I didn’t even notice.

“I can grab a towel, if you want,” Atlas offers, stepping off the bed and pulling his underwear back on. “Or you could take a shower. Whatever you want.”

“Do you think you might come over here and kiss me?” I ask, and am immediately worried by the look that crosses Atlas’ face. I hope we did not trade blowjobs for kissing. If I am only to pick one, I will choose kissing every time. But just as soon as the shadow was there, it’s gone, and he is putting a hand on my cheek and pressing his mouth to mine.

“Thank you,” I say as he pulls away. “And now, I do think I would like a towel.”

I’m not overly fond of being dirty, and the cum is already starting to dry and pull on my leg hair. I also feel like I need a few moments alone to collect myself. Having sex is probably not meant to be a world-shattering experience, but it isfeeling that way for me. I do not want Atlas to see something in my eyes that might frighten him away.

“Bathroom is across the hall,” he tells me. “Help yourself to whatever.”

I only take a few minutes in the bathroom, eager to keep riding this wave of good cheer from Atlas. When I walk back into his bedroom, he’s sitting against his headboard waiting for me. Still clad only in his boxers, there is so much smooth, pale skin on display that I stop and enjoy the view for a minute. He notices and it makes him scowl.

“What?”

“I like to look at you. You are very beautiful. I am not sure if you know this.”

“You don’t have to do that.” He scoots over so there is room for me to sit beside him on the bed. “Give me compliments like that. We’re just fucking around. I don’t need you to pour honey in my ear.”

I stare at him mutely. I have no idea what that is supposed to mean.

“I am not sure about the honey,” I tell him slowly, sliding up a little closer to him in bed and touching my fingertips to his rib cage. He has lovely skin. “Although, it might be good to have with the stollen, yes? And I like complimenting you. It is the truth.”

“Pouring honey in someone’s ear is an idiom for sweet-talking,” he explains.

“Oh yes, this makes sense.” I trail my fingertips down the inside of his forearm, enjoying the way goose bumps follow after. “But I think I shall continue with the honey talk. I like it when you make this face.”

I touch his cheek and he rolls his eyes, as I knew hewould. Slowly—giving him a chance to move away—I lean in and kiss him.

“I am thinking the stollen is ready,” I tell him, before coming back in for another kiss. “We should put shirts on and go eat. After that, perhaps we can come back here?”

“You angling for round two?”

“Well,” I say seriously, holding out a hand to help him off the bed, “I believe we shall get better each time. Just like the kissing, yes? We must practice.”

He snorts a laugh as he bends over to grab his shirt.

“All right, Henri,” he mumbles softly, sounding as though I’ve made him sad. “Sounds good to me.”

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