Page 25 of Atlas & Miles
But when would I learn that Atlas saw everything and wouldn’t let me get away with anything? “Like what?”
I flushed bright red but kept going. For him. “I go to a kink club in Atlanta some weekends to scene with several of the Daddies and Doms there. Anyone who’s a member and up for a scene is fair game, and I rarely scene with the same person twice. The members often go there when they feel like working things out on someone’s ass—or having someone work things out onmyass, in my case.”
Atlas’s eyes flared with heat. “If we’re doing this, you won’t be scening with them anymore.”
A possessive warmth suffused my entire being, and I blushed. “Really? Do you mean we’re doing this more than once?”
He smiled, nodding. “I want to if you do.”
“I do. I just have one question.” A grin burst on my face, and I blurted the only thing on my mind. “Can I call you Daddy?”
Chapter seven
Atlas
It was official; Miles was going to kill me. Hearing “Daddy” on his lips was going to seriously take me out.
But what a fucking way to go.
“Absolutely, sweet boy.”
The grin on his face just got bigger, which I wouldn’t have thought possible. “Thank you, Daddy.”
My dick twitched in the light-gray sweatpants I’d donned not-so-innocently. So I was horny with Miles in my home late at night and wanted to tempt him; sue me. “I definitely have at least one follow-up question—specifically what you meant when you said your partners would take things out on your ass—but we need to start at the beginning. Do you have preferred safe words?”
His smile softened, but it was definitely still there. “I use the stoplight system.”
“Perfect. And just for clarity, can you tell me what that means to you?”
He nodded, and the expression on his face told me he was taking this seriously. “Red means stop everything. Yellow meansslow down or take a pause so we can check in, readjust, or catch our breath. And green means everything’s good, keep going.”
“Excellent. You’re not new at this.” Not a question.
He shook his head, clasping his hands in his lap. “Nope. I’ve been in the scene for a while now.”
I nodded. “Good. Then let’s chat about limits.”
Miles settled back on the davenport, stretching an arm out along the back. I loved how comfortable he was in my space already. “I don’t do bodily fluids aside from cum and maybe . . . maybe sweat? I’m not opposed to licking you when you’re sweaty, I mean.” His blush was adorable. “I’m not into knife or breath play, but I do love impact play.”
I lifted one eyebrow—that was good news. I was definitely on board with that.
“Aside from that, I’m up to try almost anything except bondage or positions that make any part of me immobile. I get claustrophobic and panicky.”
I nodded. “That’s reasonable.”
When I didn’t continue, he raised his eyebrow to match mine. “And you?”
I chuckled, leaning back. “It sounds like your limits complement mine well.”
He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “Oh?”
I nodded again. “Yeah. I’m the same on bodily fluids, don’t like knife play or breath play, and love impact play. Giving and receiving, actually, though the latter is more rare.”
His eyes widened at that, but he didn’t say anything.
“I’m indifferent to bondage, so that doesn’t present an issue, either.”
Miles smiled softly, almost shyly. “Good.” His expression turned serious. “Any other hard or soft limits?”
