Page 9 of Atlas Uncharted

He was big everywhere.

I swallowed and jerked my eyes back up, whipping around so fast I nearly gave myself whiplash.

“fuck, Atlas, what the hell—”

He let out a low chuckle behind me. “What? You told me to shower.”

“I didn’t tell you to walk around with your whole dick out,” I snapped, still facing the opposite direction. “Put some clothes on.” My voice came out higher than I intended.

I heard him pad across the floor, drawers opening.

“You can turn around now.”

I didn’t. No matter if he put on clothes, from now on, I would always see him as naked. I grabbed my bag, slinging it over my shoulder. “It’s almost three in the morning. I’m sleepy. Ashlen should be back tomorrow, so if you need anything—”

A warm hand wrapped around my wrist.

I turned.

Atlas had slipped into a white t-shirt and basketball shorts. “Stay.”

I blinked. “What?”

His grip tightened, not enough to hurt, but enough that I knew he meant it. “Stay with me.”

I hesitated. “Atlas—”

“Please, I hurt so bad, and I can’t sleep. I need the company,” His voice was softer than I’d ever heard it.

I knew I should say no.

That was my problem—I didn’t know how to say no to people.

After my mother died, I became the girl who made things easier for everyone else. My father shut down, drowning in his own grief, and I learned quickly that asking for too much, needing too much, only made things worse. So I stopped asking. Stoppedneeding. Stopped pushing back when people took up too much space in my life. I was well aware of my own shortcomings, but I didn’t know how to fix myself yet.

I sighed, rolled my eyes, and gave in. Just like always. “…Fine,” I muttered. “But I’m sleeping on top of the covers.”

He grinned like he’d won something. “Whatever you want, Ki.”

I rolled my eyes and settled onto the bed, as far from him as possible. Within minutes, I was out.

Something woke me. My eyes shot open. The sun was up and burned the fuck out of my retinas. My brain was sluggish, caught between sleep and reality. It took me a minute to feel the warm lips pressing against my neck.

Then suddenly I could feel there was a body pressed against mine. Breath on my skin.

A hand. Under my shirt.

Fingertips ghosting over the flesh of my hip, slow, teasingly. My pussy thumped.

I almost melted into it, almost let myself sink into the comfort of it—

Until I remembered where I was.

And who was touching me.

I went still, the realization locking my spine straight. My voice came out low. “Atlas.”

He didn’t stop. If anything, he got bolder, his nose grazing the spot where my shoulder met my neck, his voice rough from sleep. My nipples tightened to the point it was almost painful.

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