“Do what you want with me,” I manage to murmur, and Julian’s eyelids fall closed as he groans into my skin.
“Jesus, Atlas.” He peers up at me through his dark hair, his lips shiny with his own spit. “You’re trying to kill me.”
I shake my head fast, as if the accusation is arealone, and let my hands grip the duvet beneath me.
I really thought that after hearing me speak, he’d back out. That once Julian fully understood who I am and what I’ve done,he’d want to retreat. I didn’t expect to be here, under his tongue and his lustful gaze.
I had no time to prepare myself; no time to consider the outcome.
I’m startled back into reality as Julian runs his tongue over one of my nipples, flicking it repeatedly. I arch into him, attempting and failing to catch my breath. The urge to make noise is building dangerously, but I’m too embarrassed. What if he thinks it’s annoying? What if he stops touching me?
I think I’d die fromthat, too.
One of his large hands trails downward until he finds where my hard cock is pressed against my inner thigh, and he begins to rub me through my shorts.
“J-Jeez!” I choke out, spasming briefly under his touch like a teenage virgin.
I am inexperienced outside of the demon who comes to me, and even then, I never move. So now, I’m unsure how to speak, what to do with my hands, or ifI’msupposed to be touchinghim.
Can I ask? Is that proper sex etiquette?
“S-should I—”
“No,” Julian interrupts, lifting his head from my chest. “Just… let me lead you.”
A soft, breathy whimper leaves me. A ridiculous amount of stress falls away at his words, at the realization that all I have to do isfeeland experience him.
Julian chuckles quietly, his hand over my crotch moving faster by the second. “You like that, little bunny? Do you like it when I take control of you and force you to feel me?”
At these words, his hand slipsinsidemy shorts, gripping the length of me without a single thing between us.
I choke on my own spit, my hips lifting to press myself into his palm without my consent.
His thumb brushes over the head of me, pressing down just slightly, drawing a moan from somewhere deep and shameful inside of me.
“Use your words, or I'll stop touching you.”
“Y-yes,” I force out. “I like it.”
“Hmm,” he sounds again. “I want to taste you, Atlas. I’m going to do that now.”
Before I can fully register his words, Julian leans up and rips my shorts down, pulling them clean from my body and throwing them haphazardly over the foot of the bed.
I gasp at the rush of cool air as it greets my hard length, where it lies proud and wet, already dripping onto my lower stomach. Julian makes an approving sound at the back of his throat, his hands gripping my thighs as he pulls my legs apart.
Feeling incredibly vulnerable and far too exposed, I cover my face with my hands.
Does he like what he’s seeing? Are there any marks left from the incubus? Is he turned off by it? What if I’m…loosedown there?
Julian clicks his tongue in disapproval. “None of that.” He pulls my hands away. “I want to see your face while you fall apart, while I rip you to shreds.”
The hungry look on his face, the desperate need in his eyes—those two obvious signs and many others tell me that Juliandoeslike what he sees, and he’s just as excited as I am.
“Please,” I beg.
Once again, Julian just grins.
Then, he’s gripping the back of my thighs and pushing my legs so far back that my knees nearly reach my ears. Cold air touches parts of me that I’ve never truly felt so exposed before.
