Page 21 of Tempting the Titan

With a single sweep of his tongue, he melts my insides.

He slips his hand under my top and caresses my breast. When he tweaks my diamond-hard nipple, a zap twists my core. I gasp in shock, inhaling sharply before melting into him. My worries and fears fall away under his powerful yet gentle touch.

When we break apart to catch our breath, Atlas runs his hands down my back, stopping to squeeze my ass as he lifts my skirt.

He focuses his dark stare on mine. “Are you wet, Celeste?”

So wet, and all because of him. “Yes,” I pant.

Grinning, he takes a step back. “Lift your skirt and show me. I want to see for myself.”

I do as he says, hitching my skirt over my hips. Two of his thick fingers find my core when I slip my panties aside, sending lightning zipping through my body.

“You’re soaked.” His voice is deep. Guttural. Dripping with need.

I get onto my hands and knees and turn to present myself to him. When I look over my shoulder, he places his hand on my back above my tailbone. The sheer possessiveness in his expression makes me whimper.

I arch my back, craning my neck as he works me with his fingers, priming me to take him. I’m nervous he might rip me to pieces with his huge shaft, but the swipe of his fingers sets me ablaze and obliterates my worries.

My heart flutters when I hear the crinkle of foil. He grips my hips, pulling me into position and preparing to take me. My body responds, yielding to him. I’m putty in his hands, and Atlas Everlast is the master sculptor.

Slowly, he presses inside until he’s deep. God, so deep. My core floods and pressure builds relentlessly between my legs. Every inch of my body sparks with pleasure, and the sensation of him filling me is sheer bliss.

Holding me captive, he presses my shoulders down so my ass stays in the air. My body clamps around him, not wanting to let go as he takes me wholly and thoroughly. I’m lost in the rhythm he creates as our bodies slap against one another. I struggle to breathe, straining under the power of his thrusts.

Atlas reaches around, rolling my clit between his finger and thumb, and I explode, calling out his name as waves of pleasure wrack my body. He doesn’t slow his pace, showing me a glimpse of the raw monster concealed beneath the carefully crafted exterior.

That's what I want. I need the untamed beast within.

Although we’re clothed, Atlas has lost his hat, and his dark hair stands on end, giving him a wild appearance. I grip the desk as he slams into me, holding on for dear life until his primal roar fills the room, and he empties himself inside me.

He slumps over me as we catch our breath. Once we’ve recovered, he heads for the bathroom and returns with a washcloth, tenderly cleaning me up before helping me rearrange my clothes.

“You’d better go,” he says gruffly.

I wish I could stay, especially after what we just experienced. “Yeah. I’m late for my–”

He doesn’t allow the lie to fall from my lips, kissing me goodbye instead.

Atlas

I can’t get enough of Celeste, and every moment we spend together pulls me deeper under her spell. I press a kiss to her lips, willing her to stay, but she eases her way out of my arms, leaving me empty and alone.

My gut churns uneasily as she reaches for her coat and steps out of the office. Something about the situation doesn’t sit right. She gave a flimsy excuse to talk her way out of making dinner plans, and I could smell her lie from a mile away.

Although she made up for it in spectacular style, she’s hiding something, and her defensive behavior worries me. She’s innocent and doesn't see danger lurking around every corner like I do. Especially with the criminal gang Knox tipped me off about – wreaking havoc across Screaming Woods.

Despite how much I despise going out in public, I wait until I hear the front door slam before grabbing my coat and hat and racing after her. I'm a professional investigator and don't always work from my desk. I follow her distinct scent down the block, keeping a watchful eye as she slips into her car.

I tail her as Celeste drives downtown, heading straight to the notorious red-light district. She pulls up at a shady-looking strip club, bathed in the glow of a neon sign that reads Sinful Sirens.

I pull up in a dark corner of the parking lot, remaining hidden, and quietly observe the ragtag crowd filtering in and out of the bar. The rear doors of the club burst open and leather-clad bikers spill out, locked in a messy brawl. A couple of burly bouncers are hot on their heels to break up the fight.

Soon after, a kitchen hand sporting a grimy apron and puffing on a cigarette props himself next to the trashcan in the parking lot.

Celeste steps out of her car with her head bowed and shoulders hunched. She’s still wearing her office clothes as she scurries into the bar clutching her purse tightly to her chest. She’s not carrying an extra bag to suggest a change of outfit, so what is she doing here?

I wait a bit longer before entering and stick to the shadows once inside. I'm not the only burly guy here. Imposing figures loom in the corners, some I recognize as non-human.

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