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 theSilence of the Lambsreference?
