Page 59 of Atlas
Big. Hard. And way more intimidating than I remember from my one awkward, forgettable first time.
He notices the shift in my face. “Hey,” he says gently, stepping between my legs again. “We go slow. We stop if you need.”
“Okay.”
I watch as he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet. He retrieves a condom, something I hadn’t even thought about until now.Fuck.I can’t think straight around him.
He leans his forehead to mine as he rolls the condom over his thick length. “You trust me?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
He guides himself to me with one hand and cups the back of my neck with the other, kissing me as he pushes in slow and careful. I gasp at the stretch, my body tensing.
He pauses, breathing hard. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Just . . . give me a second.”
He waits, not moving. He just kisses me again and again until I melt around him, my body relaxing enough to take more.
Then he starts to move again.
And it’snothinglike last time.
This isn’t fumbling or rushed or selfish. This is Atlas groaning my name in my ear, his hands gripping my hips, our bodies moving in sync like we were always meant to fit this way.
My fingers dig into his back. His thrusts are slow and deep, hitting something inside me that makes me tremble all over again.
“Look at me,” he says, and I do—Ican’t not—and he kisses me like he’s starving. “You feel so fucking good, Rue.”
I hold his face, fingers in his hair, and that pressure builds again, faster this time, sharper.
“I think . . . I think I’m . . .”
“I’ve got you.”
And I fall apart around him, again. Completely.
He follows a moment later with a curse and a shudder, burying his face in my neck as he comes, his whole body trembling against mine.
The only sound in the room is our breathing. Sharp. Rapid.
He kisses my temple, my cheek, the corner of my mouth.
Then he rests his forehead against mine and says softly, “If that was your second time ever, I’m terrified for what your third is gonna do to me.”
I laugh, breathless. “You planning ahead?”
He grins. “Damn right I am.”
Chapter Twelve
Anita
Anthony: You’re not home again?? Where are you???
My fingers curl tighter around the stem of my wine glass. I take a slow sip, just to busy my hands, then tap out a reply.
Me:Dinner with Tessa. She’s been nagging me to catch up.
