Page 70 of Force of Gravity

Iwake with a startto the sound of a door shutting. It takes me several moments to gather my bearings enough to wrap my head around where I am. When I finally do, I see Atlas prowling toward me, a look of sheer seduction written all over his face.

Without a word, he peels off his work polo and undershirt, throwing them both to the floor before he begins working on his pants. He has them over his hips by the time he reaches the bed and quickly tugs them the rest of the way off, taking his boxers with them.

I suck in a breath at the sight of him.

“What, do tell, are you doing in my bed?” He tugs the comforter down, eyeballing my pajama shorts and tank. “And why are you wearing so many clothes?” He quirks a brow, a smile playing on his lips.

He doesn’t wait for me to respond before he’s crawling into bed on his hands and knees, closing in on me like a predator ready to devour his prey. I lick my lips in anticipation, my heart beating so hard and fast I can hear the sound of it hitting my ribs.

He grabs the waistband of my shorts, pulling them and my panties down together. I lift my hips so he can easily wiggle them down my legs.

“Are you going to answer me?” He pulls me upright, tugging my tank top over my head before allowing me to relax back to the pillow.

He hovers over me, pushing my hair out of my face as he settles between my thighs.

“About what?” I finally find my voice.

“Why are you in my bed?”

“Honestly, I’m not really sure.” I laugh nervously.

Atlas responds by pressing the tip of his erection at my entrance.

“Try again.” He pushes forward an inch or two, just enough to tease me but not enough to satisfy the sudden inferno raging beneath the surface, threatening to burn me alive. “Why are you in my room?”

“I was tired.”

He slides in a little further but pulls back out.

“Certainly, you can do better than that.” He smiles against my lips as he teasingly kisses me.

“I was...” I groan when he slides all the way inside in one delicious motion, filling me to the brim.

“Liar,” he hisses.

“Atlas,” I whine when he still hasn’t moved. The feeling of being so full, yet getting no relief from the deep ache, is the sweetest form of torture, but torture none the less. “Why aren’t you moving?” I try to buck my hips but he’s too strong and easily keeps me in place.

“Is this what you want?” He slides out and drives back in, causing me to cry out.

“Yes!”

“Then tell me why you were in my room.” He once again goes still.

I weigh my options. Do I lie here and play this game or do I tell him the truth?

“I missed you,” I admit sheepishly, blood rushing to my cheeks. “Happy?”

“Very.” The dimple filled smile that takes over his face is enough to pull the air straight from my lungs.

And then he’s moving. Pounding inside of me with so much force that I have to reach up and brace myself against the headboard to keep myself from scooting up the bed.

It’s fast. It’s hard. It’s unrelenting. And it’s everything I need.

I come apart twice before Atlas spills his release inside of me with a deep groan that reverberates off the walls around us.

“For the record, I love coming home to find you in my bed.” Atlas pulls back after a brief moment, dropping a kiss to the tip of my nose. “But next time, nix the clothes.” He grins, pushing himself off me.

I instantly miss the weight of him.

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