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He thrusts in and out of me, and as the pain subsides, it’s quickly replaced with pleasure.
He strokes me again and I wrap my legs around his neck. “You’re so gorgeous.”
So many emotions swarm in me as his words yank at my heart. I haven’t felt beautiful in a long time. People deem me as an ugly woman, yet he doesn’t see me as that way. He doesn’t see the scared, broken woman; he sees me as someone worthy. I want to cry, but I fight back my tears. Who the fuck cries during sex? God, I’m a mess. Hot tears burn in the backs of my eyes. I suck in a breath as I try to hold in a sob before I embarrass myself. The sound of my moans and our skin slapping together bounce off the walls.
He picks up speed. “Your pussy is so tight. I love stretching you. Your pussy is mine. Mine to eat and play with me.”
He thrusts harder and harder before he pulls out and flips me onto my stomach with my ass in the air, then he thrusts back inside of me. Gripping my hips, digging his nails into my skin, riding me hard.
“I won’t be satisfied until my dick is in your ass, fucking you hard.”
My heart races harder, and my core becomes sensitive. He’s so deep inside of me, and I love it.
“Oh, God!”
“Don’t use my name in vain.”
“Shut up, you arrogant asshole!” I scream, gripping the pillow, sinking my teeth hard into the cushion.
He wraps my hair around his hand, yanking gently. “Good girl. That’s right. You’re doing so good taking my dick so well.”
“Atlas. I’m about to come.”
My core contracts as I come around his shaft as he fucks me harder, making me ache with each thrust, and he chases his own orgasm.
“Where do you want me to come?”
“On my ass.”
Several moments later, I look back and watch him remove the condom, then I feel hot cum spraying all over my ass. He gives me a weird look, then he frowns, his face glistening with sweat. He ties the condom in a knot, then he disappears from the bedroom and comes back with a wet rag. He wipes the now flaky dried-up cum on my back.
His shoulders are rigid. My gaze meets his and his blue eyes are distant, vacant as if he’s not here with me anymore. I don’t know what happened in those few minutes, but I lost him mentally. Shaking my head, I put on my bra and panties. Without a word, he stomps to the bathroom, and I hear the water from the shower blasting. I know what this means, he’s ready for me to leave, and I don’t want to feel awkward when he comes back, so I sneak into the laundry room to quickly change into my clothes.
I slip out of his penthouse and head home.
I shower and take a nap, then wake up to visit my mother for a few hours. Next, I go to the cancer center to visit Mr. Walter, an old friend of my mother’s. He used to buy his wife flowers from my mother’s floral shop. His wife died last year from a car accident, and his relatives don’t visit him often. My mother always told me if you want to feel better about yourself, do a good deed and it’ll help you out of a funk. Unfortunately, it’s not working.
I replay the morning over in my head, trying to figure out what I said or did to make Atlas so cold toward me earlier. No, I will not blame myself for something I had no control over. He’s the one who checked out, and maybe the sex wasn’t as good as I thought it was. Maybe he regrets it. So many conclusions swirl in my head. I don’t want to ever feel like how he made me feel in those last few minutes, as if he used me as one of his fuck toys. I knew he was too good to be true. Someone who is as gorgeous as him wouldn’t want me for me. He made me feel so alive before and during sex, but now I feel like shit. I made myself vulnerable, admitting to him I felt like I wasn’t enough. Yet, he made me feel exactly that. I don’t allow people to see the raw side of me because people will use it against me. He’s too charming for his own good. Men like Atlas don’t stick around.
I have to see him Monday morning, and I have to face the music, even though I don’t want to. Why can’t he have been someone I met on a dating app? As soon as I speak to him on Monday morning, I’m going to act like nothing happened. My ego took a hit, but I’m not going to put it through the wringer again. I’m not going to put myself through a heartache like I did with Carter. I have to admit, it was the best sex I ever had in my life, and I’m not going to find someone else to fuck me the way he did. To have someone to meet your needs for once felt refreshing. He was so attentive, caring, and the complete opposite of my ex. The man knows how to use his tongue and his dick.
“Miss Lake, you’ve been quiet since your arrival,” Walter states. He’s now thin and lanky, his brows and hair gone.
“I’m fine.” I fake a smile and sit back on the chair.
The A/C pumps out cool air, so I wrap a blanket across my body. Mr. Walter tells me his dreams of living long enough to see his granddaughters attend NYC, and he wants to travel the world. I love the way his eyes spark with his passion. And I’m grateful because for one split second, I keep my mind off of Atlas.
On Sunday, I spend the day putting my sketches into my portfolio so I can sell it to a company, then I design a few dresses. I need to find another job quickly. I might not make enough money at my next job, but right now, it’s not about the pay. It’s about me staying away from the devil. It was a big mistake on my judgment to be wrapped up in Atlas. I shouldn’t have slept with him in the first place, and I shouldn’t have showed up at his home.
A few messages from Atlas pop up on my phone, and my heart leapfrogs in my chest. I debate if I should read them, but I give in to temptation.
Arrogant Asshole: Why did you leave without a word?
Another text message comes in.
Arrogant Asshole: I know you read my message. iPhone tells me.
My phone rings, and I watch his name pop up on the screen, then it stops. Then it rings again before I receive another message.
