Summer
Pleasure hits me like a shot of pure adrenaline, ripping the air from my lungs, until I’m panting, breathless, and trembling, completely consumed by this overwhelming bliss.
Open-mouthed kisses travel across my body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
The occasional bite makes me tremble, bracing for the next one.
A nipple taken hostage by a set of teeth, but instead of pain, it only stokes my desire for more.
Those fiery kisses grace my neck and chest, while a hand has found a special spot between my legs, circling back to it over and over again, my body begging for even more friction.
I don’t want to open my eyes and end this dream. The sound of my own raspy moan is accompanied by an approving growl right after. Kisses trail further down my body, lingering over every spot they land on, before a bite on my inner thigh makes my nerve endings fire up like—
Wait! A growl?!
My eyes shoot open, and a gasp slips past my lips, unsure if Atlas between my legs is real or part of my dream.
I stare at him. He stares right back before smirking.
This is not a dream.
My attempt to push him off promptly dies the second I realize my hands are bound to the bed frame, double zip ties keeping me from choking him to death for pulling this shit on me.
I look back at him. White T-shirt. Blue jeans. Enough light from outside to see every line of his face in high definition.
Fuck his pretty face!
I should kick him. No luck with that either when both my legs are pinned under him.
“Untie me, asshole!” I hiss, tugging at the ties hard enough to bruise my wrists, but I’m not breaking a thumb to get out of this.
“You’re only going to hurt yourself like that.” His palm lands on my hands as an additional attempt to deter me from struggling.
I go still, eyes narrowing.
Atlas runs his thumb along my jawline, but I pull away, leaving the warmth of his touch behind. He collars my throat, but he doesn’t squeeze while holding me in place, letting his eyes settle on my lips. Then that dark gaze climbs, locking with mine.
“You didn’t want to attract my attention? Too late, Succubus. You’ve attracted the biggest, baddest wolf out there.”
Bark all you want. You don’t scare me.
“Fascinating way to hit on a girl. Most men ask for a date. But obviously, your idea slightly deviates from the socially acceptable norms.”
“See, I don’t do dates, but just out of curiosity, would you have said yes if I’d asked you out?”
I haul myself up as far as the restraints allow, trying to get in his face, but Atlas doesn’t retreat, mocking my attempt at intimidation.
“Not a chance in hell,” I snarl.
“You’re mesmerizing when you’re angry.” Those words sound more like a stray thought slipping free than something meant for me.
“Back to the point. You wouldn’t say yes to a date with me, hence the different approach.
” He points at the way he has me tied up.
“I haven’t had the chance to use it thus far, but I like this much better. ”
“I bet you do. There’s no other way I’d let you touch me.”
Not a shred of anger crosses his face, only pure amusement dancing in his eyes.
“Need I remind you that you kissed me in the club?”
“I told you, I didn’t know it was you.”
“So you kiss random guys like that?” Atlas tsks while tapping his lower lip.
“You knew who you were kissing. You kissed me in the heat of the moment, because it felt right.” The hand on my throat glides down, caressing my breast, moving further to my waist. “So fuckin’ right,” he drawls, like the memory controls him.
“Fuck off, freak!”
He smirks.
Did I say “Fuck me, please” instead?
“You’re neither screaming nor pleading?”
“If I scream, you’ll gag me. How would I hurl insults at you then? And pleading . . .” I scoff. “Boy, you’ve got the wrong girl.”
“No! I’ve got the right girl. You’re going to scream, but it will be screams of pleasure, just as you’re going to plead . . . for more,” Atlas states with a predatory grin, his eyes consumed by complete darkness. Lust, desire, excitement, churn within them—all for me.
“In your dreams, asshole!” I shoot back.
“Then let’s start dreaming, Succubus!”
I’m sure his megawatt grin can be disarming for most, but unfortunately for him, I’m way too pissed at the fact that he’s taken my control away to be able to enjoy the sight before me.
Atlas stands on his heels, reaching for my legs when I take the chance to try and kick him in the face. His left hand catches my ankle, squeezing hard as a warning, and my left foot is caught even before the instinct to kick him actually registers.
All I managed to do is have him once more on top, pinning me under, with a knife at my throat.
I freeze. But he doesn’t look the least bit angry. In fact, his dick feels quite friendly, playfully poking at my belly.
Ignore his dick!
Yeah, right! That’s like saying ignore the shark circling me in the water.
“Come on, honey! Stop fighting me.” Hot breath fans a featherlight caress on my cheek.
“What fun would that be?”
“I can never get used to how soft your skin is.” The words scatter against my neck, lips brushing each syllable.
“You wanna make a ‘woman suit’ out of it, Buffalo Bill?”
Pulling away from where he’d buried his face in my neck, he bites down on his amusement. Did he get the Silence of the Lambs reference?
“No.” He releases the smile he was holding captive. “I wanna eat you!”
Teeth bared, he makes that all-too-famous Hannibal Lecter hissing sound, stopping mere inches from my face.
I’m left with my jaw in a permanent state of detachment. He caught me off guard.
In this single moment in time, we click so perfectly with our twisted minds.
Atlas’s eyes drift to my lips and stay there, studying the amused curve I don’t bother to hide. He earned it fair and square.
He’s staring at me like a child in a candy shop. Does he crave the kiss I gave him at the club? Thankfully, I have a good enough poker face to conceal the fact that I’d like that too. Much more than I should.
Atlas leans in, desperately attempting to get what he wants, but I turn my head to the side, shattering his illusions by denying him that kiss.
A displeased grunt reaches my ears when his forehead stops at my temple.
Tap, tap, tap . . .
His middle finger tapping on my lips pulls my focus back to him.
“Suck!”
It takes me a second or two of dazed staring before my brain gives actual feedback to his kind request.
“Suck it yourself!”
“It’s either my finger or my dick. It’s up to you.”
I like my options. No, really! How could I be this fortunate to be given so much freedom in choosing what I’ll have to suck on?
“Your dick, please!” I let him swim in confusion, observing his stupefied stare long enough to feed my twisted mind with joy. “I’d much rather bite your dick off. It’s far more precious to you than one of ten digits.”
“I love this smart mouth of yours.”
Atlas taps once more, while the blade of his knife digs into my skin. I don’t think he’ll draw blood, but it’s enough to make my mouth part for him.
His middle finger plays with my lower lip for a second before sliding inside, and I’m tempted to bite right away.
“You bite my finger off, I bite your clit off. I’d still have nine more fingers, and I’ll fuck you with each and every one of them.” He offers those threatening words, probably prompted by my I’ll-bite-your-whole-hand-off-if-I-could glare.
He thinks he’s winning the power battle. I’ll show him another level of the game he never thought existed.
My tongue glides the length of his finger, eyes pinned on him, watching how the control shifts.
The way his jaw ticks. The tensing of his shoulders.
The widening of his pupils when I make a swirling motion with my tongue, that if it were his cock inside my mouth, I’m sure I would’ve made him come.
My cheeks hollow, and by the look on his face, it’s me who’s winning, even though I’m the one tied up and blowing a finger.
Right when he’s enjoying himself more than he should, I sink my teeth in a bit, and he shoots me a dirty look . . . not because of pain. One final lick and I release his finger with a smile.
The knife disappears from my throat when he puts it away at the back of his jeans.
“Aren’t you going to thank me?” Teasing a psycho is such a wise tactic.
“For?”
“Treating your finger so nicely instead of biting it off.”
“That’s exactly what I’ll be doing, honey,” he says, while pulling my panties to the side without grazing my skin. Then he halts, boring his eyes into mine. “Tell me to stop!” he dares. “Say it, and I’ll untie you and leave.”
How fucking cocky is he to think I won’t?
I open my mouth to say the word, but nothing comes out. Like I’ve been muted.
My silence makes Atlas’s cockiness go from a hundred percent to I’m a God level with the grin he’s flashing. His I-just-got-lucky finger slides up my slit, stopping on my sensitive bud, staying there for a torturous micro-eternity, goading a reaction.
“S-s-s—” I try again to say the word, but nothing comes out. Not even a lukewarm suggestion for him to stop, let alone a firm command. I sound like a freaking snake.
Atlas bites on the swell of my breast, the part where my crop top doesn’t cover, his eyes transfixed on mine while his finger circles my entrance.
I’m supposed to be in control, yet the zip ties on my hands and the wetness between my thighs make it clear I’m not. But I’ll regain it.
“I’m a virgin,” I spit out the first thing that comes to mind, because saying “Stop” is boring, and playing with him is so much fun.
Atlas releases my breast from his bite, looking at me saucer-eyed, forehead wrinkled enough to spell oh shit there.
“Huh? Seriously?”
“Yes,” I let out, voice and lower lip quivering.
But he keeps staring with that thunderstruck expression, and I can’t take it, as the laugh bursts out of me without warning.
“In my ears, sucker. You’re so fucking gullible!”
Yes. I’m poking the lion with a stick, asking to be eaten alive.