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When he releases it, he pulls back to look at me. The heat in his eyes bring a twitch to my clit and I give him a slow smile back, leaning forward to whisper in his ear, “Fuck me.”
I almost never curse and just saying the word feels wicked, but not as wicked as when he flips me over onto the bed, ass up. I tense, but large hands find my hips quickly, pulling me further into the air.
“Fucking perfect,” he says, giving my ass a small smack. I’m about to say something when a finger trails down my slit and I let out a cry. Atlas only chuckles as he traces my every fold with slow precision.
“Does this feel good?” he asks as his thumb finds my nub of pleasure and presses firmly. My answering moan must be enough because he shifts to press a finger inside me. I feel so exposed as he pulses them in and out, hitting places inside me I didn’t know existed.
“Fuck, I can’t wait,” he mutters, and I feel him shift to press against my opening. I don’t have time to even move before he thrusts in to the hilt, and I cry out.
Maybe it's because he’s drunk but he’s rougher than before, his fingers digging into me as he slams into me again and again. I feel myself tightening around him but before I can get to my release, he shouts behind me and I feel his balls tighten against me. He pumps a few more times before falling to the side, breathless.
Even though I didn’t cum, I turn and smile at him. He gives me a sleepy smile back and pulls me close.
“You didn’t cum,” he mumbles against my forehead.
“It’s okay, that was for you and it still felt amazing,” I tell him honestly. That seems to be enough for him because he pulls me closer to him and quiets.
“Atlas?” I ask, not sure if he’s already asleep.
I wasn’t expecting tonight to end like it did, but I can’t not try.
“Mmhmm,” he mumbles with his eyes closed. Propping myself up on his chest, I wait for him to open his eyes. When he does, I give him a smile and run a finger down his chest that makes his face soften instantly.
“Will you help me help my friends?” I ask, hope lacing my chest. I feel his entire body tense.
His eyes are on me, direct with no hint of drunkenness remaining. He sits up, effectively pushing me off him.
“Is this why you’re here?” he asks angrily, and though I try to school my face, his almost immediate scoff of derision tells me I failed.
“Do you realize what you’re asking me to do? What I’ve already fucking done for you?” I can’t help but feel a pang of guilt at his words.
“I didn’t ask you to do any of it,” I reply, though the words sound hollow and childish even to my ears. He pauses, without a shirt and pants still undone, and steps up to me. I have to resist the urge to step back.
“You’d rather I left you there? To be raped and sold?”
“I’d rather be there than here, knowing I left others behind for the same fate!”
He shakes his head and turns around, grabbing his shirt and shoving it over his head.
“You don’t understand shit,” he says, and I roll my eyes.
“So tell me! Help me understand.”
“Understand what? That the world is fucked up and unfair? I ain’t here to fucking teach you.”
“No, just to screw me and leave.”
He pauses, turning to me with narrow eyes. He shakes his head and turns back around.
“Can’t believe I almost fucking fell for it,” he mutters. “Fucking sneaky bitches.”
Anger replaces the guilt and am on my feet in an instant.
“Excuse me!”
He looks down at me with a laugh and I feel my face heat up as he leans down, gripping my chin to look into my eyes.
“Nice fucking try, sweetheart.” He kisses the side of my mouth and tosses his shirt over his shoulder before stalking out of the room, leaving me naked and fuming. I look around for something to hit, to throw, anything, and find only a soft pillow.
