Page 43 of Westward

“Wait a minute.” He pulled back, his hands sliding to the front of my dress. My eyes widened as he slid my dress up and brushed his knuckle along the front of my panties.

“Do you touch yourself while you think of me, Ms. Elizabeth?”

“I’m not answering that,” I said so primly that he snorted.

“Well, does it make me a horrible person that sometimes I think of you when I get myself off?”

“Atlas,” I said with a laugh.

“What? You’re so fucking beautiful it’s hard for me to breathe.”

“I would say the same about you, but you have enough of an ego as it is.”

“I’ll have you know that my eyebrow’s Instagram account is soaring right now.”

“I’m one of the trolls on it, if that helps.”

He grinned then and took my mouth again. This time it was heavier, both of us grasping at one another. He picked me up with one arm, and I gasped into his mouth as he carried me to the bedroom. Dinner forgotten, I wrapped my arms around him, needing his touch, until he set me down at the edge of the bed.

“I’ve been dreaming about this for far too long,” he whispered as he kneeled between my legs.

“You know, we’re a little out of practice when it comes to this. We’re not exactly the same people that we were the last time we did this.”

“Well, if I had known it would’ve been the last time then…” He let his voice trail off, and I let out a soft sigh. I slid my hands through his hair as he tugged my dress up over my hips.

“I have missed this,” he groaned, before leaning down and sucking on my tattoo.

It had been such a stupid thing to do, considering his jersey number could have changed at any point, but because Atlas was the star he was, that number was the only one he’d ever had. He sucked and licked at the tiny tattoo that nobody could see, not even when I wore my bathing suit, and I let my head fall back.

“Mine,” he growled, biting down.

I sucked in a breath. “Mine,” I said as I moved and traced my fingers along his shirt over the tattoo I knew that held my name.

“We’re both idiots, you know.”

“You are on your knees between my legs, and that is how you want to start this?”

“Neither of us covered up our tattoos, Lizzie. How the hell were we supposed to fully move on?”

“I don’t want to think about that right now.” The idea of Atlas with all of those women that he was connected to in the media made me want to throw up.

Atlas cursed under his breath and then leaned forward to kiss me hard on the mouth. “I’ve never. I haven’t been with all of those women. I know neither of us wants to talk about other people while they’re in my bedroom, because it’s just you and me right here. But the media lies. And random celebrity pop stars need good PR. But I’m not it for them. It’s been you, Lizzie. Just you.”

I knew he wasn’t saying that he hadn’t slept with anyone else in over a decade. After all, I had tried to be in a relationship over the years. It had never worked out, and we all knew the reason why. Anybody who got too close to me knew what that number meant. Knew who had branded themselves on my skin and my soul.

But that didn’t matter right now. All that did was this moment. So I nodded, and then Atlas leaned forward, pressing his nose against the seam of my panties. I’d groaned, leaning back on my forearms as Atlas worked my panties off, my knees spreading to the side.

“I’ve been missing this,” he said softly, and I knew he was staring. A blush worked its way up my body, but I didn’t look down. If I did, I would close my legs, and this would be over. But I needed Atlas’s mouth on me. I just needed Atlas.

With a soft sigh, he licked at me, and I let out a gasp.

He licked and sucked, spreading with his fingers, and I let my legs come up slightly, one leg wrapping around his shoulder, the other settling on the bed. He spread me, going deeper with his tongue and his fingers, and before I could take a breath, to ask for more or tell him to stop, the orgasm hit with full force, and my eyes rolled to the back of my head, my entire body shaking.

“Dear god,” he growled next to me, and I didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. I could barely think with the blood roaring in my system.

I finally opened my eyes to see Atlas standing there, shirtless, his hands on the button of his jeans.

I sat up then and slid down the straps of my dress, knowing that if I didn’t do it now, it would get tangled later. My dress bunched at my waist, and since I hadn’t worn a bra, Atlas let out a deep throaty purr at the sight of my breasts. He leaned forward and cupped one with his large hand, his thumb gently caressing my nipple.