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His hint of stubble leaves goosebumps in his wake, and I’m torn between letting the coming pleasure consume me and watching every movement he makes. Atlas’ large frame hunched to fit between my open thighs is a deeply arousing sight, made even more enchanting when he gives an open mouthed kiss to the head of my dick and sucks the waiting precum from the tip. He trails his tongue down the underside, making me thrust up in desperation for more contact, and then he folds my legs forward so he can dip his head to my exposed hole.
The first swipe of his tongue is electric. Tendrils of bliss race from my groin to every nerve in my body, and when a steady stream of spit leaks over my rim with the firm press of his tongue begging me to open up, I can’t stop my hands from flying to his head and my hips from pushing down to meet the probing muscle.
His shoulders tense, but instead of pulling away, he simply moves my hands to hold just under my knees, and then those hot as sin eyes seek out mine as he moves his mouth back to my dick. He doesn’t take me between his lips, but he mouths along the side of my length, licking and slurping at the wetness, making sure to get another powerful suck at the tip that makes my legs tremble.
It becomes a pattern. Atlas turning my cock into a dripping, leaking mess that he collects and uses as lube to soften my hole. The first time he wiggles his tongue inside, he moans louder than I do. The sound vibrates inside my body, only heightening my need for more.
The press of a finger breaching me startles a hiss between my clenched teeth. It burns dully—not quite painfully—and Atlas throws me a worried glance.
“I’m okay,” I say, letting out the breath I’ve been holding in anticipation. “It’s been a while.”
He nods slowly and sits up straight, lowering my legs but keeping them spread, and smoothes a hand along my abdomen, stretching his fingers across the Dahlia.
“You want this with me?”
I clasp both of my hands over his and bear down on the finger still lodged in my ass. He presses in to the second knuckle, a whoosh of air leaving his chest as he sees it slip inside.
“Atlas Huxley.” Honey eyes fix on me, and I slide his hand resting on my stomach up to my throat. He instinctually cradles his fingers around me, and I rest my hands above my head. “I love you. And if you’re willing to give it to me, if this is okay with you, then what I want is for you to hold me down and bury yourself inside me. I want to feel this—feel you—until I can’t breathe. Until I have no choice but to give everything up. To let you have me. Darkness and all.”
I can’t tell what he’s thinking, can’t tell what’s going on behind that stormy expression. Was that too much? I never seem to have a filter with Atlas. It’s like my heart decided the moment it found out Atlas was A that it would give itself entirely over to him in that instant.
That’s why this all hurts so much.
It’s why I need this to happen before it all falls apart.
Atlas presses his fingers into my throat, not hard but grounding, keeping me present and locked on him. He stretches me slowly, adoringly, drawing sounds past my lips I’ve never made from another person’s touch. I grip the arm of the couch with both hands, straining not to fuck myself on his fingers.
This is Atlas’ first time. He should be in control of how fast or slow we go. I need to know that if he needs to stop then I’ve given him every opportunity to shut things down. But god I hope he doesn’t.
I’m trembling by the time he’s stuffed three fingers as deep into me as they’ll go, whimpering with each stroke and curl inside as he explores.
“You sure you’re okay without a condom?” He bites his lip as he hovers over me, early morning light streaming through the window making his eyes appear molten. “I can run and grab one.”
I force myself to take a deep breath in through my nose and close my eyes to push through the rush of hormones taking over me. “Do you want condoms? I’m okay without, but if it makes you more comfortable, we’ll use them. I’ve never—” I nearly choke on the words, and Atlas presses on my throat just enough to make me gasp and throw my eyes open. “I’ve never gone bare with anyone. Topping or bottoming. I want to feel you—all of you—inside me. But if you don’t want that, the condoms are in the table beside my bed. Just come back. Don’t… don’t leave.”
“Blair…” Atlas’ eyes go soft, his grip loosening, and then those warm, wet lips are on mine again. It’s gentle and steady, and with a twist of his fingers all of my tension fades away, leaving me pliant against the cushions. “This isn’t something I can imagine. It isn’t something that crosses my mind and excites me. But you lying here, begging me to make you feel good, asking me to be the person you trust enough to let wholly inside your body? I’m okay with that. I’m okay with this. I want you to have what you need. I want to be the one to give it to you.”
And then I’m empty, but only for a moment before the head of Atlas’ dick notches at my rim. He leans over me to grab one of my wrists and coaxes my hand around his girth.
“Guide me. Show me what you like.”
What I like is him. What I want is him.
The fat head of his dick stretches my hole, and the moment it pops inside I want to thrust myself down to swallow his entire length. Instead, I take it easy, and feed him slowly into me, paying attention to his labored breathing until he sinks down to the hilt.
Atlas bottoming out inside me is the fullest I’ve ever been. I can barely breathe, can barely feel anything other than the way I’m stretched around him. His eyes are blown wide as he stares down at me, both of us adjusting to this new sensation.
“Blair…” I can hear a dozen questions, a million statements all wrapped in the amazement in his voice. The incredibly overwhelming feel of having your cock buried in someone else? It’s a mind-blowing moment.
My own cock twitches—wanting a turn—but that’s not what I’m after tonight.
Sometimes I want to be the one taken apart and fucked back together.
Atlas’ thrusts are awkward and clumsy, and though each press of his dick deep inside builds a heavy pressure in my gut, I can see the concentration lines on his forehead and the downward tilt of his lips.
“Atlas,” I pant, lacing my fingers behind his neck. “If this isn’t good for you, we can stop.”
He shakes his head. “It feels amazing. You feel amazing. I’m just…” He breaks off in a dry chuckle. “I’m thinking so hard about making sure you’re enjoying it and not in pain that it’s kind of hard to stay in the moment.”
