Chapter 41 Steam & Surrender – Atticus
STEAM & SURRRENDER
ATTICUS
Iwait for her to take her retribution, intending to take everything she wants to give me, no matter how far she goes.
My eyes close.
My hands fall to the floor at my sides, palms up, empty, submitting myself to her wrath. To her darkness.
I force my body to relax as she shifts forward.
I wait for the pain I know I deserve, but then her fingers are in my hair, palms hard against my jaw as her lips crash into mine.
My heart pounds hard against my rib cage, thudding in my ears as I fight to catch the breath she stole from my lungs.
And I think…
I think when she drew her hand back, there must've been a gun in it. And the thudding in my ears was the sound of the bullets leaving the chamber and burrowing through my skull.
But if she's killed me, then why is this heaven and not hell?
Aurora's warm body slides against mine, and the taste of her fills my mouth, and I'm dying to touch her.
She gasps into my lips, and I taste the salt of her tears and tremble beneath her.
For once, I don't know what to do with my hands. If anyone ever told me I'd have the woman of my fucking dreams in my lap and not be able to touch her, I'd have laughed in their face.
But here I am. Wondering how much she had to drink at dinner. Wondering if finding out about Ambrose has somehow made her crave acceptance so badly that she'll take it from anywhere, even from someone she hates.
I don't want her to regret this.
"Trouble," I mumble between kisses, my chest heaving as my entire body comes alive from the feel of her slippery against me in the hot steam. And fuck, it takes every ounce of willpower to keep my hands to myself. "I don't want you to do something you—"
"I won't. Please, Atticus. Touch me," she murmurs, and something inside of me snaps. "Please, I need you to—"
I kiss her like a man starved, making her whimper when I wrap a hand around the back of her neck and pull her closer to me. Needing the press of her everywhere I've ached to feel her for weeks.
Fuck, she smells so good.
I need to taste her.
I'm dying to taste her.
Our lips part, and I press a kiss to her jaw. Using my grip on the back of her neck, I angle her head to the right so I can kiss and suck a path down to her collar as her fingernails dig into my biceps and her bathing-suit-covered tits heave against my chest.
My cock is already solid as steel, and I know she must feel it against her because I didn't bother with fucking shorts.
I tug the string at the base of her neck and lean her back against the tile seat as my mouth draws lower and the little dark triangles of her bikini top fall away.
She arches violently into me as my mouth closes around a nipple, tongue swirling and flicking mercilessly at the sensitive bud.
She squirms against me, and the movements of her body slipping against my cock make me see white, and before I'm conscious of it, I've started to shift against her, my body seeking the friction of hers.
I groan against her steam-warmed flesh, not stopping my teasing assault of her nipples until she's shaking in my hands.
But I need more. I'm starving for her.
Gripping her around her waist, I lift her with ease to sit on the edge of the tile seat and shift forward on my knees before her, cock dripping precum all over the floor.
Her fingers find my hair, and she grips tightly when I shift her knees apart and press my face into her bikini, drunk on the scent and feel of her even through the fabric.
"A-Atticus," she whines, her hips rolling against my face. Unwilling to remove my hands from around her waist yet, I use my teeth to bite the silky fabric and am rewarded with the sound of it tearing as I jerk my head to get it out of my fucking way.
Then I'm on her. Burying myself in her.
She gasps and writhes, and I have to hold her still so I can feast properly. Her grip on my hair tightens painfully, but fuck if it doesn't make me want to eat her alive even more.
Her thighs bracket my head, squeezing as I flick and spear and swirl my tongue, groaning as her taste fills my mouth.
She's soaked, and I don't want to waste even a drop.
The sound of skin on skin echoes off the tile, obscene and perfect.
The steam makes everything wet and hot, and my head is spinning from being in here too long, but I don't care. The devil himself couldn't drag me from this room.
I slip two fingers into her, fucking her with them to increase the sensation.
“I’ve thought about this every night,” I growl between vicious licks. “Dreamed about how you’d taste. The sounds you’d make.”
I flick my tongue against her, fucking her faster with my fingers. “So fucking sweet.” I flick it again and she gasps. “I could eat this pussy for hours.”
When I close my mouth over her again, Aurora shifts her hips, and I let her. She rolls into my mouth, fucking my face how she needs to. Chasing her release.
I flatten my tongue and rub her clit with it ruthlessly as her movements turn stilted and jerky, and fuck, my cock is going to burst. It pulses, aching with how badly I want her. So sensitive that when the tip of it brushes against the tile seat, I hiss and my muscles coil.
Her little sounds turn sharper, more insistent as she nears her ruin, and my body reacts to every one of her movements, every fucking sound she makes.
And it's every time I imagined this moment with my hand around my cock, praying, wishing, begging the universe that one day I'd feel the press of her body against mine again. Even knowing I didn't deserve it.
When Aurora comes on my mouth, I can't fucking help it. As she screams her release, I choke out a broken groan against her pussy and come all over the damn floor.
Between shuddering breaths in the steam-filled dark, she pulls away, and red-hot shame burns in my neck.
"Did you…"
Jesus fucking Christ.
I'm already getting hard again, still aching to be inside her, but whatever fucking spell we were under broke. The energy's shifted, and the dark shape of Aurora pulls from my hands and leans back against the wall.
"That's a first," she pants.
"I…"
I don't know what to fucking say.
She sighs and sits forward like she's about to get up. Like she's about to walk out, but I can't let her. Not yet. I need to know…
"Wait." I take her wrist in my hand and swallow. "Aurora, what was this?"
She tenses in my grip.
"This was me trying, too." Her voice is small, nervous almost.
"You're giving me a chance?"
The steam pulses around us in the few seconds of silence before she replies and my anticipation heightens with every millisecond.
"Yes," she says finally. "Please don't make me regret it."
It's more than I hoped for, and my next words scrape raw from my throat. "I won't. I promise. Thank you."
I flex the muscles in my hands to keep them from trembling where they touch her.
"And, Atticus?"
"Yes?"
"I'm going to tell them tomorrow—about Ambrose. It should be me."
I shake my head even though she can't see me. "I won't say anything until you're ready. You have my word."
She slips from my hands and then she's gone, taking the warmth with her.