Page 20 of Atlas

The day I moved to Hart was the day I met Atlas. Ever since the first time I saw him in the little rental house where Lynette and I would be staying, helping furnish it with the rest of the club, in all his breathtaking, golden glory, I didn’t want anyone else.

And. Now. I. Am.Starved.

I break the kiss and wriggle so that Atlas sets me down. As soon as he does, I shove him against the metal door. He’s huge, so when I say shove, he backs up a step, but he gets the idea. He helps me tear his gray t-shirt off.

“Fuck, Willa,” he groans as I tear open his belt. The buckle is huge, a big metal bowed angel, probably custom made.

I wrench his jeans open and drop down to my knees on the hardwood floor we spent days and days refinishing.

I pull everything down his thickly muscled thighs. Jeans and boxers. I leave them like that, pretty much tying him in place.

I’m so fucking hungry for him that I’m vibrating. I’ve never had an adrenaline rush like this. I’ve never wanted another person like this. I’ve never wanted to know someone the way I want to know Atlas. I’ve never loved anyone from the outside in and the inside out, never wanted to plunge into their depths, to stand beside them, to walk in their light and let them luxuriate in my own.

I’ve never truly wanted a partner or to be someone’s partner.

It feels so different with Atlas, so right already, because for once, this isn’t about the sex. It’s damn well about the sex, but not for the sake of it. I want this because I want his laughter, his trust, his time, his friendship, and his heart. I want to make him feel good because he’s special to me, not because there’s an expectation of pleasure in return.

His cock is painfully hard. It’s long and thick, with a slight bend to the left side. Not a crook or anything weird like that, just a gentle sway. The tip is swollen and already leaking shiny precum in a glistening strand.

I sweep my head low and catch it with my tongue, humming at the sharp salty taste of him before I bring my face right up to him and inhale his scent.

It’s animalistic, I know, but I love the scent of him here. How he smells freshly showered, but still manly. He’s blond everywhere, though he’s excelled at manscaping. I go for the element of surprise and also give into my base desires, running my tongue over his balls, licking a hot path up his shaft, all the way to his tip.

His hands smack the door behind him, hard.

I wrap my hands around him, shucking off my shackled restraints, and dig my fingers into his tight ass while I take his cock all the way to the back of my throat in a single motion. I swallow against the gag reflex, opening my throat and forcing him as far back as he’ll go.

I’m not a sword swallower or a miracle worker, but I take at least half of him.

“Fuck!” Atlas’s head slams back against the door. His spine collapses against it. I fall back with him those few inches, pulling back and using my hand along the base of his shaft to work him while I take him to the back of my throat again.

I dare to look up after I work him for a few passes. His eyes are barely blue anymore. They’re deep black and burning, his pupils blown out. He has this slack look of amazement that comes from unexpected pleasure. I love that I can give this to him. I love that just for right now, he’s given me complete trust.

I drink my fill of his gorgeous, hard face. I don’t turn away for so long that eventually his hand peels off the door and strokes my hair, almost reverently before his fingers dip through the strands. His fingertips feel so good pressing into my hair that I almost purr. I change up what I’m doing, licking along the side of his shaft before swirling my tongue around the base of him. I breathe in that deep, raw male scent as I cup his balls in my hand.

My whole body aches to have him buried inside of me. I’ve never felt so empty. My panties are soaked beneath my dress. When I imagine our positions reversed, me pinned to that door, Atlas on his knees, his hot mouth sealed to my pussy as he eats me like a wild beast, my walls clench in on themselves, aching so brutally that my thighs buzz with electricity. This is for him,though. I’m getting plenty of pleasure from the torture of giving it.

“Atlas,” I whisper against his cock. I trace the veins up to the tip, lapping at him, teasing his slit and the underside of his head until my tongue is coated in the salt of him again.

I got rid of my fake nails after moving to Hart, and I keep them trimmed short enough now, but I still love sparkly polish. I scrape them down the inside of his thigh, digging in just hard enough to leave a bright red line along his sensitive skin.

“Willa,” he groans, his hands falling back against the door to brace himself. His whole body flexes, his abs standing out stark with every panting breath.

He’s more beautiful than any statue I have ever seen, any work of art.

“Yes?” I flutter my lashes and look up at him.

He opens his mouth, but no words come out.

“Did you want me to do this?” I lock my mouth around his cockhead and take him slowly along my tongue, pushing forward until it feels like he’s wedged halfway down my throat.

“Fuck. Fuck!”

I can feel him vibrating with the effort to control himself. If he even flexed his hips right now, he’d probably do real damage to me. He stays perfectly still until I’ve pulled back a safe distance, keeping him on my tongue, but no longer choking myself. A sigh explodes out of him, and he pushes forward just slightly.

“I want to fuck your mouth so badly,” he admits, his tone a dark growl.

“I know. I can feel how hard you are. I can feel you throbbing against my tongue when you’re in my mouth.” I cast my eyes up, finding his on me, his face wrecked by the force of his desire. “Would it make you even harder to know how much I want you in my pussy, Atlas? In my asshole? Does it make you want to lose control knowing that you could do anything to me and I’d fucking love it?”

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