Chapter 27 Miles
Chapter twenty-seven
Miles
“Here,” Atlas said, handing me a cold water bottle after we’d caught our breath and he’d cleaned us up with a rag he’d brought from the en suite bathroom. Said bathroom looked huge from where I sat on the bed, and I couldn’t even see much of it.
“Thanks, Daddy.” I grinned up at him then downed a quarter of the bottle, only stopping so I didn’t get brain freeze. I spoke again after I’d swallowed. “By the way, what are your pronouns? I’m sorry I didn’t ask before.”
Atlas sipped his more primly, as he usually did.
He gave me a sweet smile at my question, brushing hair off my forehead as he sat down, facing me.
“You were a little preoccupied with your extremely romantic grand gesture, so you get a pass.” He smirked at me, making me laugh.
“It’s he/him right now, baby boy. Thank you for asking. ”
“Always, Daddy.” I took another drink, more slowly this time, knowing Atlas wouldn’t let me get out of this bed before I drank at least half the bottle. He was always taking care of me, and I loved it. I wanted to take care of him, too.
When I’d finished the bottle—I felt dehydrated from the flight—I set it on a coaster on the nightstand and turned to him, wiggling my eyebrows. “So . . . you mentioned something about a tour?”
He threw his head back and laughed, capping his nearly empty water bottle. “I would love to show you around, baby. Clothes or no clothes?”
I whipped my head around the room. “As much as I don’t want to, I’m a little cold, so clothes. But I don’t see my luggage . . . Dave said he would drop it off.” I frowned. I would’ve thought a chauffeur of his caliber would be more reliable.
Atlas kissed the frown off my face and stood, crossing the room to a door that was painted the same color as the light-blue wall. “It’s all in here.”
Curious, I stood and followed him through the door. When I stepped inside, I gasped. “Holy shit.”
Atlas laughed again. “It’s a little . . . large for just two of us, isn’t it?”
I took a few more steps into the room and still hadn’t reached the giant island in the middle. This was bigger than Cloudy’s kitchen, and I’d thought that room was huge.
In fact, Atlas’s clothes only took up a small corner in the closet.
I knew he had more to pack up at his house in Gomillion, but I doubted we would fill up half of these bars and shelves between the two of us.
Even the shoe racks, which took up most of a wall to my left, held space for dozens of shoes.
“Looks like I have room to expand my clothing collection.” My head swiveled to look at Atlas, who was smirking as he continued. “We might even have to upgrade some of your wardrobe. If you want, of course.”
My mouth was still open. I was having a hard time wrapping my brain around all this luxury, all this space. “Are you sure, Daddy? This is your money, your place. I don’t even have a job yet.”
Atlas tucked his hand in the crook of my arm. “You will, boy—of that, I have no doubt. Let me take care of us for a bit until you figure everything out.” He hummed. “Actually, it might be fun for you to play house husband for a while.”
He tapped his chin, and I laughed, though the word “husband” sent sparks down my spine in the best way. “Maybe,” I conceded, lifting an eyebrow in jest. “We’ll have to negotiate the terms of that arrangement.”
Atlas just chuckled. “But of course, boy.”
I spotted my suitcase—on a suitcase rack in the corner, of course, just like in a fancy hotel—and found a pair of clean boxers, joggers, and a T-shirt. I didn’t want to put my travel clothes back on.
Atlas dressed in a matching sweatshirt and joggers in hot pink, the word “bottom” bejeweled on the seat of his pants. I laughed when I saw them, pulling him into me and kissing the top of his head. “I love these, Daddy.”
He grinned up at me. “I thought you would, baby boy. Plus, it’s literally accurate in more ways than one.”
I snickered as Atlas took my hand.
“Now for that tour.”
He pulled me into the living room where we picked up the clothes we’d discarded in our haste to get each other naked.
I gasped after I’d deposited them on one of the couches—excuse me, davenports—and looked out the floor-to-ceiling windows that made up an entire wall.
The windows were massive, as the ceilings had to be a good fifteen feet or more in here.
The view was spectacular, and despite the cloudy day, I could see the city laid out before us, a body of water to the left, and mountains off in the distance, mostly obscured by the clouds.
Atlas pointed at the water. “That’s Elliott Bay.
It connects to the Pacific Ocean, so it’s saltwater.
” He pointed off to the right. “The Space Needle is over there, a little hard to see from here unless you’re close to the glass, but we’ve got a decent view of it from the office and a great one from our bedroom. ”
I nodded, trying to absorb everything. I felt like we were living in the sky.
I took in the rest of the room, from the wall of bookshelves stuffed with books to the cozy-looking fireplace that would be perfect for chilly winter nights and a high-tech entertainment system.
Though the davenports were white leather, throw blankets and fluffy pillows abounded, and they looked supremely comfortable.
After a tour of the large chef’s kitchen and dining room with a six-seater wood table, we headed down the hall to see the three bedrooms: a guest suite complete with its own bathroom, an office with room for the second desk I knew we’d need once I got my handyman business underway, and our bedroom.
An enormous laundry room and decently-sized half bath sat across the hall from the other rooms.
And the floor-to-ceiling windows in our bedroom showed off the Space Needle perfectly, just like Atlas had said.
Once we were back in the living room, I turned to my Daddy, eyes still wide from everything I’d taken in. “This is . . . this is all for us?”
Atlas nodded, his hands pressed against my chest as he gazed up into my eyes. “Yes, baby. Chase . . . was motivated to bring me into his C-suite.”
I wrapped my arms around his tiny waist. “I can tell. This place is incredible, truly. I’ll have to thank him profusely the next time we see him.”
Atlas smirked. “I’ve already tried; he’s one of the most modest CEOs you’ll ever meet.”
“I’ll still try.”
He reached up to cup my cheek. “Such a good boy.”
Heat flashed through my entire body as lust slammed into me, thickening my cock. As much as I enjoyed the vanilla sex we’d just had—and it was incredible—I needed my Daddy.
Of course, Atlas sensed that. “Oh? Does someone need a reminder that he’s my good boy?”
I nodded quickly. “Yes, Daddy.”
He went up on tiptoes to press his lips to mine. “Strip and kneel beside the bed.”
As I hurried to comply, he disappeared into that massive closet.
When he returned, he was tapping what I recognized from searches online as a riding crop against his palm.
My eyes shot wide before I yanked off my joggers and boxers and fell to my knees in the plush carpet, turning my gaze to the ground as I settled into the submissive position I’d first shown him all those months ago.
“I know you saw what I have in my hand, boy. What’s your color?”
“Green, Daddy.”
“Good boy.” My dick hardened until it stuck straight out between my parted legs, bobbing for attention, my balls tight beneath it. Atlas laid a foot against my balls—holy shit, he’d put on heels—and pressed just enough for me to feel it, for the fear to shoot through me at what he might do next.
After a long, terrifying moment, he pulled back, and I stared at those gorgeous forest-green satin heels that had nearly made me lose my breath.
The end of the crop was tucked under my chin, and I let Atlas use it to bring my head up so he could look me in the eye. His expression was stern, but the love in his eyes was everything I needed. Fuck, I loved him so much.
“You’ve gone a long time without a reddened ass, haven’t you, boy?”
I nodded.
“It’s about time I warmed it for you. Since you’ve not had the crop before, let’s start with ten, shall we?”
“Yes, Daddy. That sounds perfect.”
He nodded toward the bed. “On your feet, then bend over, elbows on the bed.” As soon as I assumed the position, Atlas tossed the crop beside me—right where I could see it, the sadist—and grabbed both cheeks. As he massaged them, warming me up, I grinned. This was exactly where I wanted to be.
After a minute, he picked up the crop, moving to my side. “Remind me of your safe words, baby boy.”
“Green is good to go, yellow is slow down or pause, and red means everything stops.”
“Good boy.” He pressed a soft kiss to my left cheek then my right. “Count for me, baby.” Then he swung.
I cried out a “One!” at the sharp sting that sliced across my left cheek, realizing that one, I’d forgotten how much this could hurt, and two, I was so out of practice.
Oh, and three, that I’d missed this so much.
The next strike hit, and I screamed out a “Two!” My legs shook as my body tried to absorb the pain in my right cheek.
Atlas, being the sadist he was, rubbed what was sure to be visible red lines across my cheeks. “Good boy. Now brace yourself. Here comes number three.”
I shouted my way through the next seven stinging strikes before Atlas paused again, letting me catch my breath as he rubbed the ache into my muscles.
“Last one, baby. And I’m not holding back.”
I heard and felt the swish of the crop arcing through the air before its stinging blow struck both of my ass cheeks, making me call out and fall onto the bed as I eked out a weak “Ten.” Atlas’s entire body was there, covering the bottom half of my back in a hug from behind as I came down from my high.
I hadn’t hit subspace—I needed a more dull, thudding pain over a longer period of time for that to work—but euphoria was still running through me. The crop had sure been fun to try.
After I’d settled a bit, Atlas took off his sweatshirt and crawled onto the bed.
Then he leaned against the headboard, pulling me into his arms for the sweetest of aftercare.
After a few still moments, he reached for his bottle of water and handed it to me to finish.
I gulped it down gratefully, wishing for more but not wanting to move from my Daddy’s arms.
“How was that, my love?” Atlas asked, pushing my hair out of my face.
I smiled up at him, feeling a little love-drunk. “Perfect, Daddy. Though . . . I may only want the crop every once in a while. That was intense.”
“Of course, sweet boy. I’m proud of you for trying something new.”
I caught his gaze, and love poured between us as our eyes held. “Always for you, Daddy.”
A few more minutes passed, then he tapped my back lightly to encourage me to stand up. I followed him into the kitchen—him in his sweats, me completely naked—and downed another water bottle while he started dinner.
It was so wonderfully domestic, so perfect for the first night in our new home, the first night of the rest of our lives.
And tomorrow, when we faced our future together, as we settled into our new life, I would finally get the chance to love him out loud, just like he deserved.