Page 14 of Nightmare

I can’t let him win.

He’s bad for me, goddamn it, and I can’t let him slip his way back inside my head and fuck me up all over again.

I can’t…

But I’m not burning those letters, and I’m sure as shit not stopping him from sliding his tongue all over me. He’s at my collarbone now, licking a path over the marks he put on me outside the cabin before. The mix of the chill in the air combined with the heat of his mouth is making me shiver, but I’m not cold. I’m burning all over, my legs falling open as if they have a mind of their own, inviting him to lie on top of me and wedge himself between them. He does just that, his hand moving down beneath my skirt to rub my clit. I arch my back up into him, needing more, impatiently pushing his head down to get him to move faster.

“You want something?” he asks with a smile in his voice, taunting me.

“You know what I want,” I force out between my teeth.

Before I can even blink, he sits back on his heels and rips my fishnets open, baring my pussy to him. “Is that it?” he rasps, and I shake my head.

“More.”

He smirks and looks down between my legs, gathering the wetness there before he slips his finger inside me. Not all the way, though; just enough to make my walls clench around him.

“You wouldn’t let anyone else in here, would you, baby?”

“No,” I say, partly because it’s the truth, but I’m mostly saying it just to please him.

He loves asking me shit like that and hearing my answers.

“That’s my good girl,” he says softly, pushing his digit deeper until I can feel the black, chunky ring on his middle finger nudging at my entrance.

I squirm and shift my hips, my mixed feelings about that damn ring rushing up to the surface. Of course he notices, his smirk turning vicious as he watches my face.

This motherfucker.

Last time he did this—the day I bought him the stupid ring for his birthday last year—I was scared shitless it was gonna get lost up there. It didn’t, but still. I don’t know if I want him to do it again, but I don’t open my mouth in time to say no. Not that he’d stop if I told him to, anyway. No never really means no with me and Atticus. We’ve known each other for so long that we can always tell what the other is thinking. He knows my limits just as I know his—not that he has many—and he’ll only stop if he thinks I really want him to.

Eyes on mine, he moves the ring up and places it on the tip of his finger, turning it the other way around so it’s face up when he turns his palm upside down. Then he carefully eases that finger inside me and fucks me with it, hooking it upward, the square part of the ring rubbing the spot inside me that makes me moan every time he touches it.

“Atty,” I say, confused, because I’m freaking out but feeling good all at once. “Fuck.”

“What is it, baby? You need my tongue to make it better?”

I nod helplessly, and he gets to work, holding himself up on one hand as he lowers his face between my legs. He doesn’t tease me. His tongue lashes at my clit, and he brings my hand up to the back of his head, encouraging me to fuck his mouth with my pussy.

“Harder,” he demands, so I pull his hair until I know it hurts, eagerly rolling my hips up to match the pace of his finger. “There you go, dirty girl.”

God fucking help me with this guy.

Licking my clit just the way I like it, he eats me out for so long that his jaw must be killing him, but he doesn’t stop. Not until he knows he’s got me dancing on the edge.

“Asshole,” I growl, kicking at him when he sits up and pulls his finger out.

“You wanna come?” he asks, snatching my ankle to keep my foot still. “Take it.”

I narrow my eyes and place the sole of my other boot on his chest, pushing him down until he’s the one lying on his back in the dirt.

He might let me fuck him, but I already know he won’t fuck me. Not yet. He told me so in letter number thirteen, that he’d drag this out for as long as it takes and make me beg for it.

I may have secretly been hoping he’d cave when it finally came to it, but he’s a stubborn prick and it’s always push and pull with him. He’s unpredictable. I can read his emotions like a book in the moment, but at the same time, I never know what’s coming next with Atticus, and that’s what I love so much about him. He’s exciting and fun and so different than any other person I’ve ever met.

And he’s mine.

Whether I want him or not, I’ve got him for life.

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