Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
CALVIN
When I called Atlas, I thought I’d tell him my secret, that he’d snap because I’d kept the fact I was married to one of the country’s biggest drug kingpins a secret and then dump me.
What I didn’t expect was for him to eat me out until I couldn’t remember what the fuck I’d called him for, and have his fingers so deep in my ass he could use me as a puppet.
This is far outside what I expected, but I’m not complaining. Atlas has a tongue that needs to be bronzed, it’s so fucking amazing. I’d worship at the altar of his mouth if it’ll get him to do it again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
And… one more time.
He shoots me a filthy grin as he curls his fingers, pegging my prostate dead on. I arch my back, a garbled moan leaving my lips as I try to wrap my head around how I got here.
But… is that really important?
Yeah, not right now.
Right now, I want to soak up the feeling of someone making me… well, feel. After so long of not having anyone, of being alone and lonely, here’s Atlas, giving me everything I thought I’d never have again and some things I didn’t know I needed.
He pushes in a third finger, his thick digits stretching me deliciously. I grip his wrist, holding it steady as I grind my hips.
Atlas hums, his eyes glowing as he watches me move. His fingers feel like heaven, but I’d rather have his cock. His nice, big, thick cock. God, I want to taste him, want to suck him down until he gags me, until he fucks my face and shouts my name when he’s coming down my throat.
But I’m impaled on his fingers and I want him to split me in two. Giving him head can wait.
“I’m ready, Atlas,” I whimper when he curls those fingers again, pulling steady moans from me. “Please.”
He withdraws his fingers and blindly reaches for the lube as he plants his lips on mine. I wrap my arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. My toes curl as his tongue licks inside, tasting me like he wants to commit it to memory. I arch into him, wanting more, wanting everything.
“You taste good everywhere,” he murmurs against my mouth before licking the seam of my lips. I pant, squirming, unable to hold still while he does with my body what he wants.
A faint whimper escapes me as he lowers himself, brushing his slick cockhead over my hole. “You ready for me, Calvin?”
Instead of answering with words, I wrap my legs around him and dig my heels into his ass to draw him forward.
I gasp when he breaches me, his dick feeling so much bigger inside me than I expected.
He groans as he slowly pushes in, the sound steady and surprised. If I wasn’t gasping at the feel of him, I’d smile. It’s been so long since I’ve felt this, so full.
“Fuck,” he curses when every inch of him is deep in my channel. His hand falls to my hip and he grips tightly. “God, sweetheart. You feel good.”
My heart does a funny thing in my chest at him calling me “sweetheart,” the word sounding different with him owning my body.
He slides his free hand under my ass and holds me steady as he pulls back and rocks forward in a smooth thrust. My eyes flutter as I try to absorb the pleasure. God, he feels so fucking good, better than he has any right to. Is this what I’ve been missing all these years?
He thrusts into me again, strong and deep, and I dig my nails into his back. My hands drop to his ass as I urge him on, moaning as he fucks me thoroughly.
No, I’m sure any other man wouldn’t have made me feel this good, this fucking hot and out of control.
His lips make a trail down my neck as he rolls his hips in the most delicious way. I give him all the access he wants, panting as I thread my fingers into his hair.
“Calvin, Jesus.” Atlas bites down on my neck and I cry out, the flash of pain feeling so fucking good that it makes my cock twitch. He grips my chin, making me meet his eyes as he picks up the pace. His pupils are blown so wide I can see none of the gray, just black pools of lust.
“You wanna come for me?” he asks, biting his bottom lip. “Want to—”
Before he can even finish his sentence, pleasure so blinding that I have to shut my eyes flows through me and my cock erupts, painting our bellies with my release. I shudder as he fucks me through my orgasm, whispering sexy words that keep my orgasm going.
When the last of the trembles rack my body, I open my eyes to see Atlas looking at me in awe before he stills over me with a soft grunt.
We stare at each other, breathing each other in. An invisible thread, a connection that I’ve never felt before, ties us together in this soft, quiet moment.
Atlas frames my face with one hand, rubbing my cheek. “You okay?”
“Mhm,” I hum with a smile, running my hands up and down his back. “Didn’t know how much I needed that until now.”
He grins, then gives me a soft kiss. “I’ll be right back.”
I hiss when he pulls out, then my cheeks heat when I feel his warm load leaking down my ass cheeks. I forgot all about that feeling.
Mitchell and I never used condoms, being each other’s firsts. He never cleaned me up when we were done, making me waddle to the bathroom to take care of it.
Just thinking his name makes my heart race and my hands shake. He’s out of prison. He fucking escaped and…
Atlas comes back into the room with a wet cloth and wipes my belly and cock. Then he pushes my legs back and gazes down at my puckered entrance. My cheeks heat with embarrassment, but the look on his face—the awe, the lust, the pure filth—pushes that away and I preen.
“God, I’ve never seen anything like this,” he purrs. He reaches forward and swipes up his cum and stuffs it back inside me. “Keep that in there as long as possible.”
He tosses the cloth aside, then arranges us so his fingers are still inside me as we lie on our sides. I sigh, not hating the feeling.
“Are you okay?” he asks, kissing my nose gently.
I open my mouth to tell him yes, that it’s nothing I can’t handle, but honestly, it really is something I can’t fucking handle.
My crazy, deranged fucking ex is out of prison and he might know where I am.
I took my original surname back, but it’s not like I can hide where I work or my digital footprint.
And Mitchell has friends. Even though he went to prison, he still has people who know how to do shit that I can only dream of.
So yeah, I’m not fucking okay.
Sighing, I slide closer to him, then gasp when his fingers ease in deeper. I blow out a long breath and shake my head. “Gonna have to remove those fingers so I can talk.”
He grins at me, mischief dancing in his eyes. “I’ll be still. I promise.”
I crack a smile, but it drops almost immediately when I think about why we’re here. “No. I’m not okay. My ex-husband escaped prison, but you know that already. You have pictures of him.”
“Our situations might be entwined, just a bit. I need to know what I’m up against before I can tell you—”
“No,” I interrupt. “What we’re up against. We’re in this together, Atlas. Someone sent you pictures of me, with a fucking threat under the image. Together, you understand?”
A slow smile spreads across his face and he nods. “Yeah, okay. Together. Now tell me about Mitchell. What was his deal?”
“He hates me,” I whisper, tears welling in my eyes.
“When he needed me the most, I left him. I… after the verdict was read, after I heard everything he’d done, all the pain he put people through, all the crimes, all the charges…
I couldn’t stay with someone like that. And someone who’d lied to me for years.
” I hurriedly wipe my eyes, not wanting to break down in a fucking puddle in front of him.
“You don’t have to—”
“I do,” I say firmly. “I do have to tell you so you know why I have to protect you from him.” I don’t miss the smirk on Atlas’s face, so I shoot him a dry look. “I know how to shoot a gun, Atlas. After what happened with Mitchell, I had to make sure I could protect myself.”
“I can handle myself. Tell me the rest.”
I wiggle, dislodging Atlas’s fingers so I can fucking think without wanting to ride him like a bucking fucking bronco. Those fingers feel way too good.
Atlas wipes his fingers on the bed, then places his hand on my hip.
“After he was sentenced, I filed for divorce. I wanted that chapter of my life closed and I wanted to be as far away from his name as possible. But after I sent him the paperwork, he wrote me a letter saying that I’d left him at his lowest and I’d regret it.
That if he ever got out, I’d have to look over my shoulder because he’d come for me.
But come on, he was sentenced to seventy-five years.
By the time he was supposed to get out, he’d be old and gray, if he wasn’t dead already.
“Shortly after, I quit my job and moved states. Though the prison he was transferred to ended up being only one state away. I would have moved again, but I fell in love with my job and this new city. I thought… I thought eventually, Mitchell would give up on the grudge he might have against me. But he’s out of prison now and he’ll come for me.
One thing about Mitchell is he won’t let a grudge go.
He’ll keep coming until one of us is dead.
” With a voice I hardly recognize, I say, “And it won’t be me. Understand?”
“I understand,” Atlas says. “This is my fault, Calvin. I’m so sorry.”
“How? Did you break Mitchell out of jail?” I laugh without humor, knowing Atlas wouldn’t do that, and also because it’s so ridiculous.
He shakes his head slowly, his face grave. “No, but I am the reason he’s out.”
My heart plummets and I pull away from him, looking down at his haunted eyes. “Atlas… what did you do?”