Julian #2
In the main foyer, I call Landon’s phone one last time. As it reaches his voicemail, I end the call and accept my fate. I guess I’m just not meant to know.
Now I can get Atlas alone. Alone and naked.
Suddenly reenergized, I head up the main staircase.
Tonight will be a good night. With Atlas, it always is.
“Julie,” Atlas whines, his hands grasping for purchase at my wrists.
“Oh, god,” I groan, feeling each roll of his hips as I grip them, as he rides me with everything he has.
His head is tilted back, his hair damp as it bounces with each downward thrust. A flush has worked its way over his smooth chest and up his neck, pebbling his nipples and making him appear bright and pure under the sheen of sweat he’s sporting.
“So much,” he says, slamming down on my hard dick so hard that his ass slaps against my thighs. “It’s so, so much.”
I can’t tell if he means the length of me, the angle, or how long we’ve been going at it, but either way, it sends jolts of pleasure straight down my spine.
“Fuck, baby,” I grit out, bending my knees so that I can meet him thrust for thrust. “You can take it. You’re such a good boy, you’ll take it, won’t you?”
“Julie,” Atlas cries, tilting his head forward to meet my gaze. Tears soak his cheeks, and his brow is furrowed. “I’m a good boy. I’ll take it.”
It’s such a sweet, beautiful promise that I almost blow right here.
“I need… Atlas, I need to fuck you for real,” I tell him, digging my fingertips into his hips as he stops sliding up and down the length of me, pinning my hips and opting for grinding the head of my cock against the sweet little spot inside his ass instead.
He sputters, slumping forward as he places his hands on my chest. “O-oh, god. Let me just… so good. Let me just feel you here.”
Oh, fuck. I’m going to come. I’m going to come, but I need to be railing him while I do it.
“Atlas,” I warn, feeling frantic as he grinds on me, his walls quivering and gripping me tighter and tighter by the second.
“Please,” he begs, looking up at me through thick, wet lashes. His blue eyes are so dark, so deep and dilated that I can’t even breathe. “Please let me come like this. Don’t make me stop. Don’t take this from me. I’m such a good boy, right, Julie? Right?”
“Ugh, fuck!” My hand snaps up, cupping the side of his face roughly, feeling his tears soak into my skin. He moans obscenely. “Such a good boy, little bunny. So sweet and pretty.”
“L-let me come. Say it. Tell me how good I’ve been and that I can come all over you, then you can fill me up.”
I want to chastise him, maybe slap his ass for bossing me around this way, but I’m so pent up, so desperate that I want to obey. I want to give him what he’s earned.
Sliding my hand from his cheek, I grip the back of his neck and pull him down until our chests are flush together, rolling my hips as he grinds harder.
And this has to be the angle, because Atlas’s entire body tenses, locking over me, and he wails so loudly I’m convinced the whole estate might be able to hear him.
“Yes, yes, yes,” he mumbles, his words beginning to slur together. “P-please, Julie. Oh, god, please.”
“Shh, it’s alright,” I whisper into his ear, my own vision beginning to blacken at the edges. “You’ve done so well. You feel so good, sweet boy. Take what you want; use my cock and come on me.”
I barely get the whole command out before he’s screaming, warmth spreading between our chests as his dick explodes and he’s coming all over the place.
His walls tighten even further, strangling me, and I can’t last. Not with him sounding so desperate and broken in my ear, the warmth of him overwhelming me.
I begin to shoot my load inside of him, pushing in as deep as I can, and Atlas falls limp against me.
He’s making a soft mewling noise as I fill him up, as the warmth spreads inside him.
I rub at his back, still emptying inside, as I murmur praise in his ear.
And then everything is quiet, and I feel so thoroughly drained that I’m convinced Atlas has just sucked my soul out as he milked my cock.
“Thirsty,” he mumbles into my neck, still completely limp.
My soft cock slips out from inside him, and my own arousal drips from his entrance and onto my legs.
Even now, with the room heated by our exertion, it is still not as warm as it was the day I first found the incubus. I have never felt that heat again.
I spent weeks after jumping from the cliff just waiting, terrified it would come back. It never did; Atlas is safe.
“Let me get you some water,” I coo, sliding out from under him.
Atlas doesn’t fight me, just nods softly as I wipe myself down and slip on my pajama pants. The only thing that sucks about living in the west tower is having to walk so far for a glass of water.
We should really invest in some bottles.
I head down the steep staircase, my heart still thudding from the intensity of the orgasm I just experienced. After only receiving and giving oral for the past few months, coming like this is pretty overwhelming.
So much so that I’m a little slow in understanding my surroundings, which is probably why it takes me so long to realize I’m sweating more than normal.
As I open the door at the bottom of the staircase, something uneasy ignites in me. I feel unsettled. I feel watched.
But as I step out into Hall W4, I see no one.
I do hear someone, though. Coming from the room Atticus now occupies, I can hear shuffling, as if he’s awake and walking around.
And fuck, who turned on the heater in the middle of spring?!
The sound of something shattering resonates through the hallway, and I jump, startled.
Before I can think better of it, my hand closes around the doorknob of Atticus’s room. It is significantly warmer than the one that leads to the west tower.
The last time this happened was… certainly not.
Or could it be? I shove the door open, prepared for the worst. For a 7-foot-tall demon and a naked, abused Atticus.
Instead, I find the man himself standing by his window, right next to a broken snow globe.
“Atticus?” I call softly, hesitant to enter the room and have him yell at me. “I heard something shatter. You alright?”
He doesn’t respond at first; he only continues to stare out the window. But then he lifts his hand and makes a dismissive motion.
“Fine. Leave,” he replies, his tone monotone and distant.
“Are you sure you’re—”
“Leave. Now.” The words hit me like a truck, angry and foreign.
Of course it sounds like Atticus, because it is Atticus, but I’ve never heard him speak this way. Not even when he was angry.
“Fine. Jesus.” I pull the door shut behind me, the hall dropping a degree or two once it’s firmly closed.
That was… that was odd.
Atticus has never been my biggest fan, that much is true, but he’s never been so mean before. And the heat… the energy in that room…
No. I’m projecting. I’m so terrified that the demon is going to come back for Atlas—that my being alive means that I failed, that I’m projecting my anxieties onto Atticus.
Plus, I’m exhausted and weak from an epic orgasm, so of course I’m overheated.
I step away from Atticus’s door and head for the kitchen to grab Atlas a glass of water.
By the time I return to our room, he’s lying on his back, naked and covered in his own release. It makes me smile.
This is exactly how I found him that first night, so many months ago. Back before I showed him how good it could feel to be loved the right way, back before I died for him.
It’s one of those full-circle moments.
One in which I’m reminded of just how much I love him. So much so that I find myself belonging to him, just as thoroughly as he belongs to me.
“You’re water,” I offer quietly, and big eyes turn to peer up at me, a little startled and then completely relaxed.
“Oh, it’s you. Thank you.” Atlas sits up, taking the glass from my hands as I plop down next to him on the bed.
It’s you? What does that mean?
“Atty, are you still… do you still believe it will return?” It’s funny, considering I was being paranoid over the same thing.
Atlas gives me a shy smile, his slim shoulders shrugging. “I still get nervous.”
It makes me a bit sad, all things considered. Atlas is mine now—mine to hold and protect—and I can’t stand the idea of him continuing to live his life in fear.
But what can I give him? How can I tell him to never fear that beast again when I don’t have the power to close the gates of hell myself?
And then it hits me. It’s obvious, simple, really.
“Hey,” I prompt, taking the now half-empty glass and setting it aside. “Listen to me for a moment.”
“Alright,” Atlas murmurs, and he’s looking up at me with those big, trusting eyes that tell me that I’m doing alright—that if I can do nothing else, I can still do this.
“If it does come back, if I somehow failed you, I will protect you from it.” It’s a promise, a declaration.
Atlas grins, his fingertips raising to run over the scar on my face. “I know, Julie. I know you will.”
In one singular movement, I have us lying down with his small body tucked against mine.
“You don’t have to live in fear anymore. Not while I’m around.”
“This means you can never leave me,” Atlas whispers, scooting back further into my arms. “You have to stay and protect me for the rest of our lives.”
Well, yeah. I thought that was a given.
“Don’t worry, little bunny,” I murmur into his hair. “I will save you over and over again, like it’s my only purpose for breathing.”
And in this moment, I believe it might be.
As I said, we belong to each other now. What else could I possibly have left to do, other than to follow him relentlessly? To stay spinning in his orbit?