Chapter 19
Nineteen
E verinne was the queen of bad decisions.
And taking the Prince of Prava’s cock in her hand was definitely a bad decision.
After all, she hated him. Because eighteen years ago, he’d brought her to orgasm in a room full of nobles at the palace.
To make matters worse, it had been her first one.
Oh sure, she’d had sex with plenty of other males before, but none of them had ever delivered to the extent Atlas had.
And the bastard hadn’t even touched her.
That moment replayed in her mind—the way she sank back against the far wall of the parlor, her fingers curling into the draperies until she thought she’d tear them from the window.
The way she cried out, gasping, unable to contain the waves of pleasure crashing into her so her toes curled and her knees softened.
She’d been left panting, chest heaving, while raucous laughter echoed in her ears. Atlas hadn’t even spared her a glance.
She’d been humiliated. Absolutely mortified.
The ridicule followed her around for months on end.
She’d been teased relentlessly, called the prince of pleasure’s whore.
The stain of embarrassment had branded her.
Anywhere she went, she was followed by smug, sidelong glances, or overly obnoxious jeers meant to insult her further.
Females called her a pathetic harlot, males thought of her as an easy fuck.
She spent many lonely days curled up in a chair on her balcony, watching the world pass by without her as Starysa’s skies bled from sunrise to sunset.
But for weeks on end, at night when she was alone in her bed, she would replay the sensation of his magic pulsing through her. Over and over.
Gods, she’d never felt more alive.
Atlas had never apologized, and she’d never forgiven him.
Now it was her turn to be in control. She’d drag him over the edge, coax him until he was spent, then walk away and not look back.
Everinne slowly unbuttoned his pants, the bulge beneath the taut fabric thickening beneath her touch. With the final button undone, Atlas’s cock sprang free.
More than ever, she wished she had that visor pulled over her eyes, because she knew without a doubt they betrayed her.
He was far larger than she imagined, not that she tried to imagine the size of his shaft very often, but nothing could have prepared her for that .
She half expected him to be pierced, at least according to the rumors she’d heard, but she was actually quite astonished to find him unadorned.
Atlas leaned back on the volt , propping his hands up on the seat behind him. “Something wrong, Wildheart?”
Her head snapped up, her blood thrumming beneath the intensity of his gaze. The helmet he wore obscured almost all of his face, only his eyes were visible. Those endless depths of green flecked with gold. They weren’t mocking. They weren’t even cocky. They were hungry.
“No.” She choked the word out on a harsh whisper and reached for him, but he caught her by the wrist.
“Take off your ring.”
There was a quiet demand in his tone, and a chill that had nothing to do with the cold breeze sent shivers racing down her spine. She wouldn’t mind him telling her to take off other things as well. Her gaze dipped back down to where her hand hovered above his cock.
“The ring, Ever. Take it off.” His thumb traced tiny, lazy circles along the inside of her wrist. “The last thing I want is for you to accidentally release the dagger hidden on the underside of that amethyst with my cock in your hands.”
She unhooked the strap under her chin and took the helmet off, shaking out her waves of dark hair. Then she set it on the handlebars, the corner of her mouth curving as she bent forward. Meeting his gaze, she smirked. “Who says I’m going to use my hand?”
“Fuck,” Atlas groaned as she twirled her tongue around the tip of his cock before taking him into her mouth.
Skies above, why was he so damn big?
Her lips glided over the smooth flesh, teasing and lightly scraping with her teeth as she took him a little deeper.
She licked and sucked, sliding her hands beneath the waistband of his pants, her fingers exploring the carved muscle near his hips.
Warmth pooled between her thighs, and she rubbed herself against the ridge of the seat, desperate for any kind of friction.
She pulled back, tempted to slip her fingers into her own wet heat, when he fisted a hand in her hair, forcing her lower.
“All of it, Wildheart.” He bit the words off, sucking in a ragged breath. “Every inch.”
Everinne relaxed her jaw, and the head of his cock nudged the back of her throat. She hastily blinked, her eyes watering from the sheer bulk of him, hating and loving every minute of it. Hollowing out her cheeks, she sucked harder, practically drooling down the length of him.
“Everinne.” Atlas ground out her name, his hips thrusting up, forcing her to meet his demand for more. He slid one finger between her breasts, snaring the beaded fabric of her bodice. “I want to rip this damn thing off of you.”
She yanked her head back, freeing him from the confines of her mouth, and stared up at him. It was the only way for her to ensure he realized her intent. “I know you said you wouldn’t touch me. But your magic can.”
“It’s not a good idea.” He shook his head and shadows danced across his eyes. “Last time?—”
“Last time is burned into my memory, Atlas.” She sank her teeth into her bottom lip. “For many reasons.”
His hand, still tangled in her hair, slid to the back of her neck, gently caressing. “Then you know I can’t.”
His voice was too soft. Almost pitying.
Everinne set her jaw, her spine stiffening as she pulled away. “Then I guess you can finish yourself.”
“Gods, Ever.” Atlas tightened his grip, just enough to send a thrill of pleasure ricocheting through her. “Please, don’t stop.”
She tilted her head, eyeing him coolly. “Then play fair.”
His chest rose and fell with the beating of her heart. “Are you sure?”
Nodding once, she lowered her head, but he pressed two fingers under her chin, tilting her face back up. His eyes searched hers, looking for something she couldn’t quite pinpoint. “Say it. I need you to say it.”
“Use your magic on me, Atlas.” She dug her nails into his hips. “Please.”
His head rolled back. “Thank fuck.”
The moment she took the full thickness of him back into her mouth, a thousand sensations stole into her, gathering her up in a haze of lust. That delicious scent of his magic, of amber and vanilla, infused her blood until he was all she needed to breathe.
Her nipples hardened into painful peaks, scraping against the tight stretch of fabric binding her.
She rocked her hips, sucking at him greedily while his power overtook her body.
Phantom touches cupped her aching breasts, stroked her thighs, and delved into her throbbing core, applying the perfect amount of pressure to her clit.
A cry escaped her, but her gasp was garbled by Atlas’s thickening cock. Each time she pulled him further into her mouth, it expanded in size.
Her eyes rolled back in her head, the tears she’d kept suppressed streaming down her cheeks, as his enlarging shaft speared her mouth.
His magic was a wraith, stealing into her, eliciting pleasure from every fiber of her being. She couldn’t think, she couldn’t focus. Her whimpers became moans and when his illusionary touch reached the most sensitive part of her core, curling inside of her, she lost control.
Everinne convulsed, tremors overtaking her. She spasmed, gripping his hips to keep from falling, and her name tore from his lips on a sky-shattering growl. They climaxed together in a devastating crush of desire—him whispering her name over and over as she swallowed every last drop of his spend.
Gradually, she eased off of him, and he reached out, wiping his thumb across her mouth.
Clearing away any traces of their shared moment of longing.
He adjusted himself, buttoned his pants, and save for the faint call of the sea and the howl of the wind, silence stretched between them like a gaping chasm.
Atlas reached behind her, gently placed her helmet back on her head, and fastened the strap under her chin.
She told herself it was better this way. There’d been no kissing, no feigned intimacy. Simply a mutual need for release. Nothing more. Nothing less.
“Come on, Wildheart.” He scooped her up, tucking her back behind him on the volt . “Let’s get you back home before sunrise.”
Everinne didn’t have the heart to tell him she hated going home. Because it meant she would be alone. Like always. And though she tried not to read too much into it, she clung to him a little tighter on the ride back to her apartment, and he kept one hand comfortably on her thigh the whole way.