He drags my sweats down. Just enough. Past my hips, down to my knees. The duvet is halfway onto the floor. The cool air of the room hits the bare skin of my thighs and ass and I shiver. He hums approval against my throat.
"There you are. Good boy. Lift this leg for me."
I lift it.
He hooks his hand under my knee and guides it up over his own thigh, opening me up against him, and I can feel that he is already hard, already pushed against the small of my back, hot through the thin cotton of his pants.
"Stay just like that for me. Don't move."
"Okay."
"Good."
He brings the hand he had on my stomach up to his own mouth. I feel the wet of his tongue against his fingers more than I see it—two fingers, three, slow and deliberate, the soft sound of him licking them in the dark right next to my ear. My cock jumps so hard against my own stomach that I make a small embarrassing sound.
"Easy, baby."
"Atlas—"
"I know. Relax."
His wet fingers slide down my body, between my thighs, find me. Press in.
The first finger goes easy because my body already wants him. I am soft and open from the heat at the beach house and I am more than ready for him at three in the morning in my own bed with him pressed all the way against my back. He slides in to the second knuckle and curls and my whole body shudders against him.
"There you go. There. That's it."
"Oh god—"
"Quiet, sweetheart. Can’t make too much noise."
I press my mouth into the pillow.
"That's it. Good boy."
The second finger slides in alongside the first and my mouth opens on a sound the pillow muffles. He works me slow. He has all night and we both know it. His thumb finds the hollow at the base of my spine. His mouth is at my ear, my throat, my temple, the bond mark that thrums every time he passes over it.
"Look at you," he breathes. "Look at how easy you are for me. Already relaxed. Already opening up. Christ, sweetheart, what you do."
"More—"
"More what."
"Another—Atlas, please—"
"Yeah, baby. Of course. Anything you ask me for."
The third finger eases in and I see stars. He scissors them gently. Hooks them and finds the spot inside me that turns my vision white. My hips push back against him without my permission and he chuckles, low, against my temple.
"Fuckingmenow, are you."
"Atlas."
"Patient, sweetheart. We have all the time in the world. I am not going anywhere. You are not going anywhere. Just lie there and let me get you ready."
His pants come off somewhere in there—I don't see it happen, I just feel his bare cock hot against the back of my thigh, then between my thighs, then sliding slow against me where I am aching for him. His fingers slip out of me and his hand moves to my hip and tilts me. He guides his cock against my hole and pauses there.
"Eyes closed?"
