Atlas #3
If Julian doesn’t like me as I like him, and this is all pleasure and self-preservation for him, does that make me the bad guy for taking this from him while I clearly feel more? Will I end up back in the chapel, on my knees, begging for forgiveness after this?
The head of Julian’s cock keeps dragging over my prostate, making it difficult to assess the mortality of my actions.
“I need you to come, little bunny. My sweet boy. Come for me so I can fill you up.” As his sentence ends, his hand wraps around my hard shaft, pumping it roughly and in time with each thrust.
The arm wrapped around my chest is pressing into my nipples, and his lips keep brushing my ear.
“More; I need more,” I cry.
Julian slams into me even harder, his body locking up with effort. “Give it to me. Milk my cock.”
At that demand, with his hand still gripping me tightly and his length buried deep inside, I climax.
My come shoots out onto the duvet, coating his hand. I’m moaning so loudly that I can no longer hear the slapping of skin, but with his lips pressed to my ear, I hear his responding groan as it rattles deep within his chest.
“Yes, baby,” he praises. “Perfect. So fucking perfect, I—fuck!”
Hot, thick warmth begins to flood inside of me, and my entire body goes slack at the feeling. The intensity of it, the way it robs me of thought and breath, is overwhelming. I can feel him everywhere, and now he’s giving me a piece of himself—buried so deeply inside my core.
It is so much better than the incubus—than the cool, damp feeling I get from it.
“Julian,” I mewl. “It’s hot inside. I-It’s so hot!”
Another spurt of come shoots from the tip of my cock, and Julian growls from where he’s slowly thrusting into me, drilling his own release further and further into me.
“Does it feel good? Do you feel warm and full, Atlas?” he asks, kissing the side of my face as he grinds into me softly.
“I didn’t think… I didn’t think it’d feel like this,” I tell him honestly.
“Like what?” His movements still, but he doesn’t pull out, doesn’t let me move from his grasp.
“Like claiming,” I whimper.
Julian does not move a muscle, does not speak. I don’t even feel his breath anymore. I can feel his arousal leaking out from in between his shaft and my entrance, sliding obscenely down my thighs.
“Juli—”
“If you keep talking, I’ll get hard again. I’m dead serious. Fuck, Atlas. Claiming? Really?” His voice sounds strained.
“I’m sorry,” I offer quietly.
“When you say that, it makes me want to fuck you even harder—to come deeper inside. Do you understand?”
A startled sound leaves me, and I realize he’s not angry; he’s horny.
“You can,” I tell him, “come deeper inside. If you want.”
“Fuck!”
Julian pulls out, ignoring my cry as he rolls me onto my back, shoves my thighs up, and leans down—pushing his tongue back into my hole.
He grunts loudly, his eyes rolling back as he begins to suck his own come out from inside of me.
I’m panting again, gripping his hair like I’ll die without the hold. It feels so good that it borders on pain, but the way he’s basically whining into me, grinding himself against the bed, I don’t have the heart to pull him off.
Only when I’m certain that I’ve been licked clean does Julian pull away, breathing harshly as he glares down at me.
“You’re dangerous,” he complains, wiping spit from his chin. “I already want to fuck you again.”
I say nothing. I have nothing to say about that. Because I’d let him, I’d let Julian do whatever he wanted to me. But I fear that if I say that now, he’ll lose his mind.
I take in his messy dark hair, exhausted appearance, and heated gaze. He looks so deliciously fucked that I want to lick him all over.
“I liked it,” I tell him. “I liked it more than any other time.”
I don’t know why I feel the need to tell him, but I do. As if I don’t, he’ll never have sex with me again, and I’ll be left to cold intercourse for the rest of my life.
Julian licks his lips, his hands reaching out to knead my thighs gently, possessively.
“I’m going to find a way,” he promises. “I’ll find a way to stop that thing from touching you; that way, you’ll always be warm.”
“Okay,” I whisper.
I’m unsure if he means that he’ll be the one to warm me up, but I am pretty certain this arrangement only lasts as long as I’m cursed. He’s being nice; Julian is a good guy, and he’s trying to comfort me.
“I’m not sure what the first steps will be, but we can figure it out together. Atlas,” Julian leans down, pressing his forehead to mine, “we’re going to figure out how to save you.”
Something hot and painful ignites in my chest, taking his kindness for something more. I have to learn how to separate my heart from the physical side of our arrangement, how to take Julian at face value—otherwise, I’ll end up broken-hearted.
“Meet me in the main foyer soon; I have something to show you,” I tell him, and Julian nods, brushing his lips over mine.
“Okay. How will I know to meet you?”
“I’ll let you know,” I promise. “It’ll be our first move together. As a team.”
Julian grins, his fingers grazing my sides affectionately. “Yeah. Together.”
For a moment, I allow myself to believe he means it in the same way I do.
Then, I return to reality.