Page 92 of Claiming Atlas

Because it is.

I brand her with each thrust and she takes ownership of me with each fucking moan from those perfect lips.

Her nails dig into my shoulders as she cocks her hips in such a way that she can rub her clit against me as I pound into her, and as I fuck her silly like I’ve wanted to do since she said goodbye, she brings her mouth to mine. I grip her ass and thrust harder still, as if easy love making is the last thing either of us needs right now.

Sometimes only a good hard fuck will do, and I have the rest of my life to make love to this woman.

It takes no time at all for us to reach the finish line, but as I’m about to unload into that tight pussy I love so much, she pulls back and looks at me. Reaching her hand up, she runs her fingertips across my lips and holds my gaze steady.

“Where’s home, Atlas?”

I frown. “I don’t have one.”

“Wrong.” She starts to move again and my eyes flutter closed. She feels so good, so—

“Where’s home, Atlas?”

I groan and claim her mouth, plunging my tongue as deep as I can because somehow, suddenly, just being inside her isn’t enough, I want to taste every inch of her, brand her with every inch of me. When I pull back and look into her eyes, they’re lidded and sparking with lust, and as she clenches around me, and her breathing quickens, I lean forward and press my lips against her throat.

“Where’s home, Atlas?” She can barely get the words out as her body starts to shake.

“Right fuckinghere, Kayla.”

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THE END

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