Chapter 20 #2
I stare up at him, anticipation and nerves coursing through me as he slowly parts the shirt, one side at a time, exposing my breasts.
My chest heaves.
My mouth goes dry.
And my nipples pucker as he stares down at me.
“Fuck,” he says, dragging his hand over his mouth, a look of awe crossing his expression. “Jesus, Betty. You’re so fucking hot.”
It takes all but two seconds before he brings his mouth back to mine, but this time, he’s greedier.
And I fall into his desire while his hand drags up my side, against my ribs, where he holds me in place.
I squirm, wanting more, but he keeps still, taking charge of my mouth instead, owning me in this moment, not letting me lead but instead demanding that I follow and . . . I love it.
I love being possessed like this; I love his strong hold and his demanding kisses.
I love the way his jaw scrapes across mine and how he nibbles ever so slightly on my lip.
I love that he kicks my legs open with his knees, parting me to make room for his pressing body.
And I love that when he allows some of his body weight to crowd against mine, I can feel exactly how turned on he is against my leg.
His lips move across my jaw and to my neck, where he licks the column and then kisses the spot just below my ear. A chill breaks out across my skin, and my nipples go hard as he travels lower to my collarbone, where he kisses, nips, and sucks.
My hands glide across his back and down to the waistband of his pants, where I slip my fingers past and under his boxer briefs.
“Fuck,” he breathes before lowering his mouth farther while his hand slowly cups my breast.
“Please,” I say, my voice sounding distant as this out-of-body experience happens to me.
He kisses my sternum, then my cleavage, and then he glides his cheek across my breast, my nipple passing over his lips before he squeezes my breast and then sucks my nipple into his mouth at the same time.
My hand tangles in his luscious hair as I hold him in place, wanting him to continue to play with me with his mouth. And he does.
He tugs on my nipple with his teeth, sucks, licks, nibbles. He makes me so wet, so turned on, that I want to shed my shirt, push my pants down . . . and push his pants down as well.
“God, Atlas,” I say, my hips now thrusting against his leg, seeking out any friction to relieve some of the built-up tension that he’s created.
But he doesn’t give me what I want. Instead, he moves to my other breast and starts playing around with it, driving up my need, making me writhe beneath him, to the point that I move my foot to the hem of his pants and push them down.
I can feel him smile against me before he lifts up and quirks a brow at me. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“The same thing you’re doing.”
He shakes his head. “No, I’m playing with your tits. You’re trying to strip me down to nothing.”
“Um, you unbuttoned my shirt. I think it’s only fair that I push your pants down.”
“Nah, I’m in control.” He pulls his pants back up and then goes back to sucking on my breasts, nibbling across the sensitive flesh, making me so crazy with desire, I swear I might just come from him doing this.
And that has never happened before, but he’s teasing, playing with me in all the right ways. He’s making me needy, desperate, to the point that I let out a long moan and then move my hand between us to find some relief, only for my hand to be snatched away.
“No fucking way are you about to do that,” he says against my chest. “No fucking way.”
“I need relief. Please.”
He lifts up to stare down at me, his chest heaving slightly. “You want relief?”
“Yes,” I say.
“Betty, I haven’t even begun playing with you. This is just the beginning.”
“I need the end,” I say, a plea of desperation coming from me.
He rolls his teeth over the corner of his lip, considering my plea. “Then use me.”
“Huh?”
He rolls off me and lies on his back. “I don’t have condoms, but . . . use me. Get off on me. Make yourself come.”
Really?
Just . . . just use him?
I don’t think that has ever been offered to me.
But I want to. Bad.
Smiling, I move on top of him and lower my throbbing center over his erection. “Oh my God,” I say as I feel just how large he is. “Atlas . . .”
His hands fall to my hips and his eyes focus on my breasts, which peek out from my open shirt. “Ride me, Betty.”
Needing more contact, I slip off him and then take my pants off, only to lower myself back down on top of him, leaving me in nothing but my thong. His hands move up my legs and to my backside, where his fingers dig into my ass.
“Christ,” he says as he pushes me forward over his length. “Ride me, Betty. Come on me, baby.”
I plant my hands on his pecs and start rotating my hips, making my weight sink on top of him as the friction between us builds.
“Fuck, that’s it,” he says as his muscles strain beneath me.
It’s so incredibly hot. I let my hands travel over his thick pecs, reveling in how muscular he is . . . all over. I’ve never been with a man like him, with such a strong, burly stature.
I rotate my hips to the left, to the right, and then thrust up and down, allowing my clit to run along his length, over and over again until I feel my orgasm build at the base of my spine.
“Shit,” I whisper as my fingers dig into his skin.
“Getting close?” he says, his breath labored.
“Yes.” I nod and then pick up my pace. “So . . . close.”
He helps me, moving my hips along his cock, making sure I don’t slow down but continue to pick up speed, rubbing me over and over until . . .
“Oh fuck, oh God, Atlas.” My head flies back, and a long loud moan falls past my lips as every muscle in my stomach pulls together and my orgasm skyrockets through me, pulsating and throbbing. I ride it out, feeling every last glorious sensation until I’m completely spent.
I let out a long breath and then open my eyes to find him staring up at me, looking crazed and hungry all at the same time.
I don’t have a moment to even ask him if he’s okay before he’s flipping me to my back and pulling his cock out of his pants.
“Oh my God,” I whisper as I watch him stroke himself.
So thick.
So long.
How . . . how could that ever fit?
Precum runs down the tip to his hand, where he uses it for lubrication, picking up speed as he lowers closer to me.
“Squeeze your . . . tits,” he says, the muscles in his neck straining, the sinew in his forearm flexing. “Fuck, I want to come on them.”
I part my shirt, then push my breasts together, only for him to lower some more and pump harder until he lets out a feral moan and busts all over my chest. It’s easily the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced, watching this breathtaking man unravel before my eyes.
“Fucking hell,” he mutters as he strokes himself lightly and then opens his eyes to find my gaze on him. “Christ.”
I wet my lips, his hot cum decorating my chest. “No one has ever done that to me.”
Catching his breath, he asks, “Did you like it?”
I nod. “More than I probably should have.”
He smirks and then leans down and places a kiss on my lips. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Max
Desperately, I want to text Cole like a giddy schoolgirl and tell him that I just came all over Betty’s delicious tits, but it’s past midnight, and I’m sure that’s the last thing he wants to be woken up by. Or told for that matter.
But fuck. What was that?
I wasn’t expecting to even share a bed with her, let alone get the opportunity to play with her. And yet here I am, waiting on the mattress for her to finish cleaning up, fresh from an orgasm and riding on cloud fucking nine.
And the best part about all of it is that she believes me.
She actually believes me.
I wasn’t sure that would happen. It still angers me that Dwight has held a grudge for all these years over something I didn’t do.
Why not just ask me? And although I haven’t been completely honest with Betty, I’m glad that she’s seen the parts of my character that show her that I’m not cruel and thoughtless. Vindictive.
Betty comes back into the living room, her shirt buttoned up but nothing on her legs. She tiptoes across the hardwood floor, and then quickly shimmies under the covers and attaches herself to my side, cuddling in close.
Fuck, I like this.
I like her.
I place my arm around her and keep her close as I kiss the top of her head. “Are you cold again?” I ask.
“Yeah,” she says, placing her feet up against my legs.
“Fuck, your feet are cold.”
She chuckles. “I’m sorry. Let me grab my socks.”
“Do you want me to grab you a new pair? Or maybe warm them up by the fire for a moment?”
“Maybe the fire,” she says.
I lift up, find her socks, and lay them out on the hearth. “Let those warm up for a second.” Then I lie back down and pull her against my chest again, hoping my body heat helps. “You want to put your pants back on?”
“No, they’ll just fall off anyway. I just need my feet covered, and then I should be good.”
“I can add another blanket,” I suggest.
She rubs my chest with her hand. “Really, this is good. Stop worrying about me.”
“Yeah, easy for you to say. You didn’t see what you looked like when I plucked you off your couch.” I let out a heavy breath, still thinking about it. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“Honestly . . . I thought that I could hunker down, but right before you came, I was thinking that maybe I’d have to call 911 because I could feel myself starting to slip. You . . . you saved me.” She kisses my chest, and I grip her tighter.
“You could have called me.”
“After what happened this morning? I didn’t think that was an option.”
“It wouldn’t have mattered. I’d have been there so much sooner. And not to be a dick or anything, but where the fuck is Dwight, and why isn’t he checking in on you? Is he really that mad?”
“He’s out of town for a conference,” she answers. “I don’t think he even knows that the power went out.”