Summer #2
“What did you say, honey? I didn’t quite catch it. You want a kiss?” he coos in my ear, and neither his scent nor his hot breath against my skin helps to clear the desire from my head, or stop me from clenching my thighs.
“Fuck you!” Technically, I’m not sure if I’m cursing or offering. That’s how badly my mind is spinning with lust.
“I’d love to,” Atlas croons, but when he switches the vibrator on again, his tone turns harsher.
“I’ll fuck that smartass mouth of yours.”
Grabbing my face, he holds my cheeks between his fingers, forcing me to look at him while the intensity of the vibrations goes up.
“I’ll fuck your deliciously tight pussy.”
Another increase, and my legs are threatening to give in.
“And the next time I put this in you, my cock’s gonna wreck your cunt with it still buzzing inside. Then I’ll fuck your ass, too.”
I fall apart, my walls tight on the device, squeezing my thighs together, completely surrendering to the pleasure.
I try to silence my scream, but he catches my wrist, pinning it against the wall. My second attempt to stifle any sound ends in a short-lived victory before he pockets the phone and peels my hand off.
“I’ll swallow your cries. Give them to me. Kiss me!” His tone is meant as a command, but a plea cracks in the last notes.
It’s not like I don’t crave what he offers. But if there’s one thing stronger than my lust, that’s the disdain of losing a battle.
Plunging my face into his chest again, I bite on his skin, using that to silence my scream.
I can fucking die with the sheer force of the orgasm that hits me.
It keeps rolling with the device inside me still not stopping, but I peel my teeth off him and rest my head on the wall.
My legs are as wobbly as noodles, but the worry they might give in doesn’t have time to slither inside my mind, when Atlas’s hands release mine, only to support me by wrapping his arms around my waist.
Why does he have to be gentle sometimes, and with that, make it so much harder not to care?
“You bit me,” he says, amused, no anger whatsoever in his tone.
“No. My teeth kissed you.”
“As it turns out, I found out one more thing I like about you—your stubbornness.”
The vibrator, still at full intensity inside me, unleashes another wave of pleasure so fast my brain refuses to respond. Nothing but a tiny whimper comes out, which my pressed-in-a-line lips fail to suppress.
“Wanna go for round two, honey?”
“I’ll bite your nipple off next time.” I hiss, before my forehead falls to his chest again, and so do my palms.
Atlas shifts, and a moment later the vibrator stops, allowing me a sigh of relief.
“You’re welcome, my little demon.”
He leans against the wall and pulls me along, forcing my back to his front, his erection insistently poking at my ass.
“I think we both need a moment or two to cool off.”
“And how would that work with my ass on your dick?”
How I form a sentence with both my mind and my breathing in shambles is a complete and utter mystery.
“Beats me. I’ll have to get creative.”
He pulls my hair to the side and does what he seems to love doing most—burying his face in the juncture of my neck.
“Is this helping?”
“Not in the least. But I can’t help it.”
I give myself a few more deep inhales before I decide to bite again.
“You know, some women want a gentle touch, but that doesn’t compare to being manhandled, having your clothes ripped to shreds, an elegant belt placed around your neck, and then being paraded like that for half the campus.”
“You’ll get over it,” he murmurs, kissing my cheek.
“If you had done this,” I point at myself, “to another girl, she would’ve been amidst a mental breakdown at this point.”
“Yet here you are, enjoying yourself.”
“Maybe my breakdown is internal.”
“No, it isn’t. You’re not weak. You can handle anything.”
“Even you?”
“Especially me.” Another kiss. This time on my neck, and his dick is no less hard than it was a minute ago. “Tell me a truth about yourself. Anything to distract me from wanting to get you back upstairs and do to you the things I promised. Or don’t, and let me do all of that and more.”
Not now. I’ll let him, but on my own terms.
“Summer!” The name comes out as a warning when I take too long to answer, while his grip tightens on my waist. My mind is all over the place while I struggle to figure out what insignificant information I can offer.
“I love cooking.” Lame, but true. I might as well tell him more. It’s not like that’s classified information. “Used to, at least.”
“Why used to?”
“Because I cook only for the people I love. There are none left now.” Half truth. Half a lie. I still have Raven, but she doesn’t even know I’m alive.
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” his voice is low and gentle, as his palm skims the skin of my arm in a featherlight caress.
“It’s not like you did it, so nothing to be sorry for.”
But I’ll make sure your father is sorry.
“What happened to your family?”
I shake my head. That’s as much as he’ll get from me.
“You asked for a truth—I gave you one. The rest you haven’t earned the right to know.”
“Yet.” He lets a moment of silence pass by before his grip on me secures further. “Why only for the people you love?” he continues, fingertips tracing down a strand of my hair.
“Cooking is love for me. I pour so much passion into that seemingly simple act that not everyone is worthy to be on the receiving end of my efforts.”
My brain doesn’t have time to process another gentle kiss on my neck before a jolt of shock runs through my body when Raven enters the house.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
How did I not factor in she’d be here for Link?
I need to leave, but I’m pretty certain Atlas won’t let me. I need to come up with a plan before she sees me.
My attempt to face him is met with resistance. He doesn’t let me move, probably acting under the assumption I want to get away from him. I need to turn and buy myself time, so Raven won’t recognize me.
“Let me face you,” I whisper, soft and inviting.
He turns me so fast I get whiplash. Palms on his chest, I catch myself enjoying the intricate designs of his tats. I want to ask about them, I want to know their meaning, but now is not the time. Now, I have to get out of here before Raven blows my cover.
“You wanna hear something funny?”
“Always!” His eyes hold a gleam of hope that I’m letting my guard down.
I lean in closer, lips brushing his cheek, before I reach his ear and whisper in a way so each word grazes his skin.
“I’m wearing nothing but your shirt and a belt around my neck.
Take a look around this room. Notice how men are staring like they want to bend me over and use your belt to hold me while they fuck me from behind.
How’s that make you feel, wolf? Are you okay with someone eye-fucking what you consider yours? ”
Atlas pulls away ever so slightly, eyes narrowing at me. Then his gaze shifts, meticulously scanning the room. Men are indeed staring, and I don’t know, nor care, if it’s with the intent I so vividly portrayed, but once the lewd picture is imbued into his mind, it’s all he’ll perceive.
I gloat when his expression turns crazed, jaw tensing to the point he’s likely straining a muscle there, and his hands form fists while holding me.
He reaches for the belt, boring into my eyes while pulling it off. To my surprise, he doesn’t put it back on his jeans, but ties it on my waist instead, making his shirt look more like a dress on me.
Cupping my cheeks for a long moment, his eyes rake in my features. But then he lowers his hands along with his head, and whatever he was about to say dies on his tongue. Then his attention lands back on me.
“Let’s get you home, baby.”
Home? No such place for me.
His palm slides into mine in an attempt to lead the way, but the need to correct him overtakes.
“To my dorm.”
The way his brows knit tells me he doesn’t need me to clarify further. He understands.
“To your dorm,” he confirms, before resuming his stride for the door, making me feel like a kite taken by the wind, struggling to keep up with his pace.
Exactly three steps are all I take before glancing back at Raven.
And I’m screwed.
Our eyes lock, and it takes her split seconds for the shock to register as a single tear drops down her cheek.
She strides in my direction, and my eyes widen, giving her a subtle shake of the head, warning her not to do what she’s about to.
Raven is the only one who knows me as well as Milo did, and she freezes.
God, I missed her so much!
An under-the-radar nod. That’s all I offer her, hoping no one notices this whole interaction.
Atlas keeps leading the way, clueless about what’s happening.
I must admit, his touch gives me a false sense of security, which I have to reevaluate, because it’s all kinds of wrong. With the way I’m running the game, it won’t be long before those same hands that I enjoy the touch of will strive to kill me.
Giving Raven a final look, I exit the place, as Atlas pulls me along toward his car. I knew this might happen. I should’ve contacted her. I was so close to having my cover blown.
I was on the verge of reaching out a million times, but if I had told Raven what happened, she would’ve led a literal war against Mason Holt in the blink of an eye, resulting in many more lives being lost in the process. And I would’ve been risking her safety, which, in my book, is unacceptable.
How I wish I could stay here, hug her, tell her everything. That last part I will in case I survive my endeavor.
I’ll have to be extra careful when seeing her, because I can’t let anything lead to me being uncovered for who I really am and what I’m after. Not now, when everything is going according to plan, and I have Atlas’s commitment. Maybe even more.
Raven is going to be furious at me for not contacting her sooner, but that would have to be a fight for tomorrow, because my current battle with the man who holds my hand is nowhere near over, and I’m struggling to defend my front line. The rear one too.