Chapter 17 #2
“Look at me,” he said. “Marta, Goddamn it, look at me.”
With tears making my vision blurry, I glanced at him, focusing on his concerned emerald gaze. “Breathe with me.”
He took a deep inhale, and a steady wave of relaxation and calm washed out of him and into me. I sensed his steadiness, the weight of his hands on my shoulders, the feel of the air sliding down the back of my throat and into my lungs.
“Exhale,” he said, blowing it out slowly.
Together, we inhaled and exhaled until my blood pressure returned to normal and the terrified side of me retreated into the background, leaving someone much more logical and levelheaded.
Atlas, of course, was correct. Tita was powerful, and her house was warded. After my disappearance, she would have strengthened those protections.
She can handle it. Whatever happens, she can handle it.
“We can’t do anything to help her from here,” Atlas said. “We have to keep our shit tight so we can get out, okay?”
I nodded and gripped his shirt, fisting the material between my fingers so hard, I dug my nails into the skin on his shoulders.
He wiped the tears from my cheeks and nodded.
His eyes were so green and comforting, his lips inches from mine.
His hot, hard body was suddenly so close and enticing.
I remembered how he tasted during the ritual, how it felt with his hands tangled in my hair, how his tongue had wrenched an orgasm out of me.
Atlas was infuriating and irritating, and he lived to argue with me, but I had to admit I didn’t hate him anymore. In that moment, I thought he was one of the most beautiful men I’d ever seen.
I want him…so bad.
I didn’t know my emotions could swing so quickly from one to the other. All I knew was that if I didn’t have him right then and there, I would die. Simply waste away.
Perhaps he read this in my gaze, or maybe felt it stir in my body, because he looked between my eyes and licked his lips, and that was it.
I pounced on him, wrapping my arms around his neck and slamming my lips against his.
He moaned and sank into the contact, grabbing the back of my legs to lift me so I could connect my ankles behind his back.
He carried me over to the sofa and sat down so I straddled his thighs, my knees near his hips.
His tongue wrestled into my mouth, and I sucked on it, remembering how decadent this experience had been last night in the woods.
It had been a week with nothing more than heated glances and innuendos wrought with sexual tension, but none of that mattered.
I needed this connection in a way I’d never known before, especially with him.
But fuck it. What happened in the liminal, right?
I went for his belt, ripping it open so I could get to the button and zipper on his jeans.
He likewise worked on mine, but when that proved to be too much of a struggle, he grabbed the knife from his holster and flicked it open, slicing down my denim with expert precision.
It should have scared me to have a blade so close to my cunt, but the sight of his impatience to get in my pants had me groaning with arousal.
Heat flooded my lower stomach, sinking between my legs, and once I freed his magnificent cock from his pants, he grabbed my wrists to stop me.
“Wait,” he said, clenching his eyes shut as he shook his head.
“What?” My heart clenched. “What for?”
“Marta.” His pained voice had me searching for a cut. Had he hurt himself? “Look at me.”
I glanced up to meet his gaze with a widened one of my own. He cupped my cheeks and held my head in place, glancing between my eyes.
“How are you feeling right now?” His cock twitched against my bare cunt, indicating the insatiable desire I felt brewing in his sternum. I wanted him. He wanted me.
“Can’t you tell?” What kind of stupid question was that? We were blood-bonded. He could sense the inferno inside me.
“I think…” He cleared his throat and closed his eyes again like he was trying to shove away a round of dizziness. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but…”
I whimpered in disappointment, twisting my fingers around his shirt like I meant to pull it over his head.
Under normal circumstances, I would never lower myself to beg a man for his attention. But this was one of my warriors…my Atlas… Mine.
“Please?” I sounded small and pathetic, even to myself.
He took a deep breath and let it out on a sigh. “Fuck it.”
He lined his cock up at my entrance so I could sink all the way down. I didn’t need any foreplay. I was wet from the moment he picked me up.
“Fuck.” He sighed, wrapping his arms under mine so he could hang onto my shoulders, his fingers digging into the skin near my neck, holding me down.
His massive size stung as it stretched inside me, but I welcomed the pain.
I loved it, especially when I shifted my hips and he rubbed up against that fantastic spot inside me.
“God, you’re so tight,” he whispered. “You feel so fucking good. How is it this fucking good?”
“You love when I’m on top of you, don’t you?” I said. “You love letting your witch take control.”
He laughed and leaned his head back against the couch, exposing his throat to me. “Fucking hell. You can have whatever you want. Take me. Use me.”
I rocked my pelvis harder against him, stuffing as much of him inside me as I could get. Euphoria rocketed through my nerves, escalating this untamed desire for him.
“I love draining you, Atlas,” I hissed. “Having your cock in my mouth, swallowing you down, it shouldn’t be so good, but I can’t help it.”
“You hate me, witch,” he said, digging his hands into my hips so I fucked him harder, faster, more desperately. “I hate you. But fuck, I love this. I love seeing you like this.”
A small alarm blared in the back of my mind, reminding me that we were in my Tita’s house, fucking on her couch.
We were blood-bound to each other and to Wes, and maybe we shouldn’t be doing this without him.
Maybe Atlas was right. Maybe I should stop this.
Maybe we needed to slam on the brakes. What if this was the demon’s influence?
What if I wasn’t really the one in control?
But my orgasm crept up on me, heightening the already tight ball of impending ecstasy in my molecules, and I couldn’t do anything about it.
I dug my boots into the couch, using it as leverage to grind harder, fueled by the little groans and whimpers spewing from his delicious mouth.
I pressed my lips to his and captured them, swallowing them down like I was consuming him with it.
All of him.
His blood.
His power.
His soul.
Mine.
Atlas was mine. So was Wes. And I was theirs. I didn’t have to like it, and maybe once I got through the endorphin haze of lust, I would realize I didn’t. But as he used my momentum against me to drag my cunt along his pelvis, burying him deep inside me, I didn’t care about any of it.
There was nothing more important than this moment with him.
“Yes, fuck yes,” he cried, his muscles tensing, the veins in his neck standing out.
I licked up his throat just as he stilled, his orgasm crashing out of him as his cock twitched deep inside me.
It surged into me, and I crested my own pinnacle.
The height of my climax yanked me down into a dark abyss of hormones and utopia.
Somewhere inside, I sensed a third presence, a third orgasm that had nothing to do with Atlas or me.
In the midst of everything, I didn’t think much about it; I only used it to further my own pleasure.
Atlas’s cock kicked against my inner walls, the warmth of his cum coating my insides, and that should have appalled me, but I only wanted more.
Even as my pleasure subsided, I wanted to keep going. I wanted to drop to my knees and lick him clean until he was hard again. I wanted him inside of me in every way imaginable.
Atlas came to his senses first. He hummed in approval and leaned in to kiss me, sliding his mouth down my jaw to my neck before wrapping his arms around me to lean me in so I rested against his chest.
“I take it you’re feeling better now?” he asked with a smile in his tone.
I laughed and nodded, leaning back to look him in the eyes. “I don’t know what came over me, but thank you for being here. Thank you for…”
He grinned and rubbed his thumb over my lower lip before glancing down at my shredded jeans between us. “You should grab some clothes before we head back.”
As I climbed off him, reality set in. I’d fucked Atlas Colt on my tita’s couch. I’d like to think she’d be mortified, but knowing her, she’d probably be thankful I had someone to take care of me when I needed it.
We’d done this…without Wes. We said we wouldn’t get jealous. We said what happened in the liminal stayed in the liminal, but did this count? We hadn’t talked about it. Where were the lines? Where were the boundaries?
We were bonded. Had he felt it? While I walked into my bedroom at the back, I searched for him and sensed a deep-seated satisfaction, mixed with a small amount of guilt and loneliness, as if he were upset to have been left out.
I’d have to make it up to him. Atlas and I both.
After changing and grabbing a few extra clothes, I found Atlas standing in the living room, re-sheathing his knife and gun. At my entrance, he glanced up and smiled, his eyes sparkling in that after orgasm glow I recognized from the ritual.
“You ready?”
I nodded, grabbed his hand, and we left.