My silence makes Atlas’s cockiness go from a hundred percent toI’m a Godlevel 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 spelloh shitthere.
“Huh? Seriously?”
“Yes,” I let out, voice and lower lip quivering.
But he keeps staring with that thunderstruck expression, and Ican’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.
My laughter is promptly disrupted by the sensation of a finger plunging deep inside me. I yelp at the intrusion, attempting to pull myself up, but he doesn’t let me move an inch from my spot, pinning me under him.
“Fuck! Your cunt is so insanely tight!” he utters those words against my neck, the scorching desire in his tone fanning a fire inside me. “You sure you’re not a virgin?”
“Are you deaf? I just told you I am in my ears. The armpits, too,” I joke on a breathy exhale, hanging on by my eyelashes not to move my hips against the hand between my legs.
“A paradigm of chastity,” he quips, with a nibble on my neck, stealing a shudder out of me.
Apparently, after such a long dry spell, him on top of me, along with his magnetic scent, plus one finger inside me, and I’m already teetering on the edge.
He works me up torturously slow, and it takes everything in me not to give out a single sound at his ministrations.
“If it’s pleasure you’re hoping to draw out of me... you wouldn’t know how to find my G-spot... even if it was a huge red button... with a label on it.” I’m barely holding down a moan to finish the sentence.
He stops, leaving only a thumb to circle my clit, turning up a notch the level of torture. Count to three, and Atlas’s hand leaves my private parts without a proper goodbye, and I’m about to cry at the emptiness.
But then he starts lowering himself onto me, and I’m biting my lip to stop myself from smiling.
“Tell me to stop,” he taunts again, before going all the way down between my legs.
Crickets!
The whole army in my head rebels, screaming:Don’t you fucking dare tell him to stop!
Atlas glides his palms on my thighs, pulling down my panties. I should fight him, but my brain seems unwilling to give the command, and my legs part for him without any resistance whatsoever. There isn’t a single cell inside me that would protest what he’s about to do.
“Look at that, honey...” He gently blows over my private parts, teasing me, stripping all shreds of self-control, as my walls choke the shit out of air. “Your perfect little pussy is weeping for menotto stop.”
I open my mouth for some semblance of rebuttal, but he knows how to silence me. My words at least. They all but die out in some deranged gibberish when his tongue runs up my slit before diving inside me. I can no longer keep that moan at bay, and it’s ripped loose when my back arches off the mattress. Can’t pretend what he’s doing isn’t what I yearn for, nor protest against it, shamelessly grinding on his tongue.
I’ve been with two men before him, but I’ve never been eaten like this, making my whole body tremble when he sinks into me.
But then the sweet pressure vanishes, and right now, I might be ready to plead with him not to leave me high and dry if that’s what he’s up to.
“So fuckin’ delicious! You’re more addictive than a drug.” His hot breath fans over my pussy before he yanks my thighs wider and seals his lips back on me with a hungry grunt.
As soon as his tongue lashes my clit, two fingers enter me, setting every nerve in my body on high alert, every strand of hair standing on end, and the knot in my belly tightening, ready to explode. He fucks me with deep, steady strokes, all the way to his knuckles, like he owns my pussy and knows precisely how to ruin me, where to press, how fast or slow, every thrust pulling me deeper into torturous bliss. My eyes shut tight, a second away from falling off the edge, but I don’t get to take the leap, because his mouth and fingers abandon me abruptly.
