Page 54 of Reaper & Ruin
“Yes.” He laughed before he sank his teeth into my neck, biting hard enough to leave a pretty mark behind. “I was letting him listen to me fucking the girl who loves me.”
He sounded so proud, and I enjoyed his pettiness that I really had no choice but to get louder. More petty.
“Oh, Atlas.” I panted. “Your cock is so big. The biggest I’ve ever had.”
“It is?” He played along, both our voices rough and sharp as we continued teasing Gio over and over again until it was no longer a game.
I fell apart with an entirely real scream, Atlas following soon behind me.
“You’re both in trouble.” Gio’s distant voice growled through the phone. “Get in here.”
Atlas laughed and hung up the phone, and we stayed there for a moment, just holding each other. A sense of peace between us that I didn’t know I was craving until now. But it felt right. So right. Not just because I enjoyed messing with Gio, or having sex, but because I was just with Atlas. I liked being with him.
“I love you.” I said again.
Atlas chuckled, giving me one last lingering kiss before he gently pushed me off his lap. “I love you more.”
With only a little sweatiness and aches, I climbed out of the truck, my legs wobbly from sitting on Atlas for so long. Not that I cared. It was one of my favorite places to be.
It always would be.
Chapter Seventeen, Plankton
The cabin was quiet, save for the low hum of the TV and the occasional rustling of snack wrappers. The three of us were sprawled across the couch, surrounded by half-empty bags of chips, candy wrappers, and an assortment of other junk food we had absolutely no business consuming this late at night. Or morning, seeing as it was almost four.
Heather was sandwiched between us, her head resting against Atlas’ shoulder, her legs draped across my lap. She was the picture of ease, munching on a handful of toffee popcorn as she flicked through movie options with the remote. The glow from the screen lit up her face, highlighting her sharp little smile as she made some sarcastic remark about my terrible taste in films when I insisted she try out an old eighties movie I loved.
As the movie played, we kept up a steady stream of commentary, poking fun at the overly dramatic dialogue and ridiculous plot twists all the way through till the end credits.
“That was ridiculous.” Heather snorted as she stole the remote again, picking her choice of movie. “I swore I knew you, Gio, and now I’m not sure. I think you have poor taste.”
Atlas squeezed her tighter to him. “What do you know about him,malyshka? Other than the fact that he has a pretty face and a rather big—”
“Big personality? Yes.” Heather smirked. “I know loads about both of you because I have the brains of a scientist. Ask me anything and I’ll tell you the answer.”
“What’s my favorite type of food?” I teased.
“Anything yournonnawould have made.” She replied. “You’re a basic bitch, no offense. You’re an Italian who loves Italian food. Which is smart because it’s good food, but yeah.Ya basic.Anything else you wanna quiz me on?”
“My middle name.”
She scoffed. “You don’t have one. Try again.”
“What are his siblings called and how old are they?” Atlas leaned over, snatching the glass of whiskey from my hand, sipping it with a slight frown of disgust before he returned it. He was such a drink snob, but only for vodka. If he had actual taste, he would have preferred something sweet and rich and aged for a few decades until it was perfect. Not the drain cleaner he usually sipped on .
“Gio is the oldest.” Heather trilled. “Then you have Emilio, who is only a little younger. I think he’s like twenty-seven, and he’s hot as fuck because he looks like Gio, but with a big beard, and he shaves his hair almost bald.”
“Excuse me.” I grumbled. “He isnothot. I am the only De Luca you find hot. In fact, aside from Atlas, I am the only man you find hot ever again.”
She ignored me. “Raphael and Vincente are twenty-two. They’re not fully identical, which seems like a waste of twinsto me, but whatever. Oh, and technically, Raphael is dead right now. Like murdered in a prison riot dead.”
She listed off all the rest of my siblings and their ages, even getting little facts right that I had told her about them.
Atlas lounged back, sprawling like a cat. “I think your mom needs a hobby.” He said. “Maybe knitting or chess or anything other than breeding.”
I chucked my cushion at him. “It was her sole purpose in the family, youbastardo. She was married tohimfor breeding and nothing more. I doubt it was her choice to have so many children, even if she loves us.”
“Maybe she’s super fertile.” Heather stole my glass too, sipping on it, pulling a disgusted face, then handing it back. “Like a magic womb, so that a single bit of cum in her pussy knocks her up.”
