Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
ATLAS
Fuck, Calvin is amazing. He still needs to work on his hand-to-hand, and I probably could have completely taken him out if I really wanted to… but damn, just the way he’s careful and precise, the way he listens…
The way his body feels pressed down against mine.
He could take out an entire army of men with how fucking good he looks when he’s trying to be dangerous—and I can see it, the potential there, the natural talent.
Maybe it comes from working with human bodies all day, or maybe he’s just a survivor…
but before I’m through with him, Calvin is going to be able to kill a man with his bare hands.
For now, though… my fingers caress beneath the waistband of his pants, thumbs stroking the bare skin at his hips. He bites his lower lip, and I can see the same heat burning through my chest reflecting in his gaze. “Yeah, what do you want to show me, Atlas?”
The tease there, the challenge in his voice… it does things to me. I arch a brow and use my grip to slide him down, just enough that he can feel how hard my cock is getting. When he starts to move his hand from my throat, I catch his wrist and keep it there.
“I want to see you like this—just like this. You’re powerful, Calvin.
Stronger than you realize, I think.” My hips flex up, just the slightest bit of pressure against his ass.
It makes him squirm on top of me, so my next words come out in a low groan.
“I want to feel you ride me until we both fall apart.”
Training. We were supposed to be training.
I could count this as endurance, right? I’d make up an excuse later, because right now all I can think of is how good he looks with his thighs squeezing around me and his cheeks slightly flushed from exertion.
It’s even sexier that we’re outside—I know I chose the property because it’s private, and I have security set up so no one can easily sneak up on us…
But the thought that someone might see—that someone could see us like this?
Fuck, it does it for me.
“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Calvin asks the question like he’s not already rocking himself on top of me, like his body isn’t completely on board with the suggestion even if he’s going through the motions of playing demure.
It actually makes it even more appealing.
I nod slowly, tilting my chin back so his slender fingers have better access to my throat. They don’t squeeze, but the heat and pressure of him there makes me shiver. “I think it’s a great idea.”
“We don’t have… anything to… mmfh…” he murmurs, though his hips are still working in direct contrast to the excuse. I finally release his wrist and drop my hand between us, snaking my fingers into his pants and encircling his cock.
“I’m sure I can figure something out.”
His eyes widen at the promise of what I’m saying, and my lids flutter slightly when he starts to thrust into my hand, pausing only long enough to pull my wrist up to his mouth so he can spit into my palm for a bit of friction.
The move is dirty enough that it makes me groan, and that noise catching in my chest as he leans down to kiss me with his warm fingers still on my throat seems to spur him on.
He fucks my hand like he’s already fucking himself on me, and I’m caught up in the way his breath comes faster, the way his dark eyes go hazy even though he never takes them off my face.
Calvin is giving me all of himself—every bit of vulnerability and sensation—and he’s doing it without a second thought.
I’m caught between the heat of him and the cool dampness of the grass soaking into my back, and I’m pretty sure this must be what pure temptation feels like.
My back to the earth, the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen above me.
It’s like Calvin is the sky, and I feel completely untethered to the world beneath me.
I don’t need that, though—I don’t need an anchor, a tether.
If I can leave the ground, if I can float in his atmosphere for the rest of my life, I’ll be happy to do it.
Calvin can be my sun, my moon—my entire universe.
I want to be helpless in a world where there’s nothing else.
Just him—his hot eyes, the movement of his body as he starts to fuck himself faster and faster, until his breath is coming in sharp, quick pants and I can feel his cock pulsing in my hold.
I’m not surprised. My entire body is worked up just from the training, from the physical touches…
from his proximity. I tighten my grip and stroke him in tandem with his movements, and he whimpers.
“Come for me, sweetheart. Please?” I ache out the request, and his fingers at my throat squeeze once before he shudders on top of me and fills my palm with the heat of his release. He rocks into me until he’s gasping, panting words that sound husky and sex-drunk.
“Oh, fuck, Atlas. Fuck.” His hand spasms again, and he bows his head as he gives aborted little thrusts to milk out the last of his orgasm.
I’m careful, catching as much as I can. As tempted as I am to bring my fingers to my lips, as much as I want to taste him, I have a better idea. He’s still shivering above me when I growl out in a voice like gravel, “Take your pants off.”
His eyes widen, but he’s already moving at the demand, and I take the opportunity when he comes up on his knees to unfasten my slacks and slide them down to my thighs.
He moves long enough to toss his pants and underwear to the side before straddling my hips again and looking down at me expectantly.
Helpless—I really am helplessly caught up in everything he is.
The wet grass against my skin makes me shiver, but the way Calvin’s eyes widen when I bring my cum-drenched fingers up to his hole and stroke it makes me forget the cold.
I’m careful as I tease my way inside him, but Calvin apparently isn’t in the mood for careful. Even though the sensation of me working a finger into his ass makes his whole body jerk, he rises up and meets my next thrust with the downward motion of his hips.
When I add a second finger to my first, he moans, throwing his head back and tangling his fingers in his curls before rocking down. He rides my fingers like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do, and I’m so caught up in the motion of it I nearly lose it.
Calvin drops his palm to my chest and grinds on my hand until his eyes fly wide and he licks his lips. When he lifts himself up this time, he raises a few extra inches, and I know what he wants before he even speaks.
“I need to feel you inside me, Atlas. All of you.”
I nod, dropping my hand to my cock and slicking it with what’s left of his cum.
I don’t even have to line myself up—Calvin’s so eager for it that he reaches between his legs and takes my dick in his hand, shifting his hips again and dropping down.
He’s so tight like this, barely stretched, but fuck me if it doesn’t feel amazing…
And fuck if I don’t see his cock already getting hard again.
He lets out a moan that comes from somewhere deep in his chest and lowers himself until he’s flush against me, his trembling thighs squeezing my hips and his hands stroking against his chest, his stomach, his arms. It’s like he’s trying to center himself, to calm the fluttering beat of his pulse that I can see jumping in his neck.
“Fuck,” I whisper as his lashes drop to dark crescents against his cheeks.
“You’re so beautiful, Calvin.” The whispered reverence almost comes of its own volition, and when his eyes open and he fixes me with his stare, I can’t do anything but beg.
“Move for me, sweetheart. I might die if I don’t get to watch you ride my cock like you own it. ”
“Mmm, fuck,” he moans, but he’s already listening to me.
He rises and falls slowly, and the sensation of his ass nearly strangling my cock as he lifts up and then slams back down is nearly enough to send me over the edge.
I take a deep breath, and he drinks down the sight of me. “I want every part of you. All of it.”
My clean hand lifts, stroking his bare hip. “All of it. You can have all of me.”
The words are enough to send heat streaking through his expression, and Calvin drops one hand and grabs my wrist, bringing my fingers to his cock. “Touch me, Atlas.”
It’s a demand that I’m happy to obey as he starts to fuck me in earnest. The rise and fall of his hips is punctuated by sharp little exhalations of breath, by his teeth catching his lower lip as he moans.
He’s sweat-soaked and beautiful, and I’m completely caught up in exactly how much I want every part of him too.
“Mmm, Calvin. I can feel how tight you’re squeezing on my cock. I… mmm, fuck, sweetheart. More. Give me more.” I’m not ashamed of the way I’m begging—I’d get on my knees every day for him if he wanted. I’d wake up every morning with a prayer on my tongue just for him.
He doesn’t even open his eyes—he just nods.
His hips work faster, even though I can see he’s reaching his limit—honestly, he’s fucking impressive.
I knew I could wring multiple orgasms out of him when I had him beneath me, but he’s working for this one, even though his entire body is one fine line of trembles and his breath is coming in short, sexy little gasps that tells me his nerves are on fire.
“Fuck, sweetheart. Look at you… you’re an absolute wreck for me, aren’t you? Come on, Calvin,” I murmur, my voice a strained ache, a low growl that gives away how close I am to flying apart. “Come for me again… show me how much you can give me.”
He lets out a low sound and falls forward, sweat-slicked palms incapable of keeping him up as they press to my chest. That’s fine—I catch his lips with mine and thrust into him as he starts to shudder on top of me.
The orgasm doesn’t soak my stomach, but the feel of him clenching his ass around my cock in near desperation as he comes, paired with a few more thrusts, is enough to bring me with him.
I come hard inside him, and I know my hands digging into his hips are probably rough enough to bruise, but I can’t help it.
He feels so good—he feels so fucking perfect. All I can do is moan his name in desperation against his lips, letting him drink it down like it’s his oxygen, while I piston my hips up and into him a few more times before we both collapse into the grass.
He stays on top of me, trying to catch his breath as my cock starts to go soft, but I’m too greedy to let him go quite yet. I drop my hand between us as I roll him over, slipping three fingers into his stretched hole as I do.
“Do you feel that?” I lean down, whispering my words against his lips. “That’s both of us inside you. Mixed together… you and me.” I slick my fingers through the mess of our combined cum until he’s shivering and arching up, and he fixes his fucked-out gaze on me.
“That’s how it should always be.” The confession spills from his lips like he can’t quite help it as he shivers again. I lean down to kiss him one more time, and I know the next words I whisper are more a promise than anything.
“It will be.”
I know there’s danger after us, but I also know I’m willing to remember the man I used to be—the monster I thought I’d left in my past, willing to kill without remorse—as long as it means I can keep that promise for the rest of my life.