Page 48 of Atlas

The scissors get relocated back on the bench and he returns with the orange juice instead. It’s only half full, and I’m about to question what exactly he plans to do with it, when he uncaps it, silencing me.

My mouth goes bone dry while an explosion of wet soaks my panties.

He upends the bottle, and the juice trickles from my shoulder down my chest. It’s so cold that my hard nipples pebble further.

He spills another trickle down my other shoulder, bathing my breasts.

His mouth is wickedly hot, almost scorching, after the cold liquid. He licks a trickle from my belly all the way up to my breast before sucking hard on the nipple.

“Atlas!” I nearly lose my grasp on sanity. My legs get watery and my arms strain against the bindings.

“Mmm,” he growls. “I can’t wait to lick this off your pussy.”

He punishes my nipple with his mouth, flicking and rolling his tongue over it in a torturous cadence. He grasps my other one between his fingers and twists them together, pinching hard. Pleasure arrows straight down my belly, strobing in sharp pulses in my burning thighs, before shivering back up to center between my legs.

“Do you like having my mouth on you?”

“I’d like it if you had your cock in me better.”

“In time.”

He palms both my breasts, the heavy orbs overflowing his huge hands. He rubs both rough thumbs over the peaks. It’s so sexy seeing him hold me like that, a look of sheer concentration on his face, that I drop my head back and close my eyes. I let the bindings hold me up when my legs are too rubbery to do it.

He cups me through my lace panties, surprising the hell out of me. My eyes fly open.

“I can’t tell how much of this is juice and how much of it is you, but you’re soaking.” He slips my panties down my legs and brings them to his nose, inhaling deeply. “Mostly you, but it’s hard to say until I taste you straight from the source.”

“Yes!” I pull on the bindings so hard the straps rattle. I want my legs wrapped tight around his shoulders as he hoists me off the ground and eats his fill.

He reaches for that juice again.

“Atlas! Hurry up.”

“If you insist.” He tips the bottle and spills orange juice all down my front and all down my back at the same time. I can feel the beads trickling down my shoulder blades and spine, trickling like a river over my ass cheeks.

“I hope you’re planning on releasing me and ending this in the shower.”

“Sure. In a minute.”

He starts a trail of burning kisses on my shoulder, then licks the juice off my back with long strokes of his tongue.

This should not be this hot. I’m going to come out of my skin. Out of my mind. My soul is about to leave my body completely.

He explores me like he’s determined to learn every muscle and bone, every nuance of my skin.

“I want to get my back and ass tattooed,” I admit. I currently don’t have any, so that’s a rather bold statement.

“You’d look hot with something like that. Or without. You’d look hot no matter what you did.”

“I hear that. I like your tattoos. I like that you’re not more ink than bare skin, but if you were, you’d be just as gorgeous.”

“You want some work done, I can take you down to Crow’s studio. He has some great artists working there.”

“I- oh fuck!”

He cups my pussy from behind, spreading his fingers around to slick through my folds in the front, holding me open as he slips another inside me.

Now I fully comprehend just how good he is with his hands. That has to take some serious coordination.

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