Page 14

Willa

I t’s good to be home.

Agatha just about wept with joy when we drove her back to her farm and installed a whole bunch more cameras. She promised to call us if she saw even the smallest thing out of order or if she so much as had a feeling that something wasn’t right.

After we dropped her off and headed back to Hart this morning, Atlas checked in on his parents. They were getting settled back in too, getting ready to go head to work the next day. Georgia had her bags packed into her car, and we were just in time to give her hugs before she got back on the road for Seattle.

The club spent all day yesterday after the weird money exchange, going over security and a plan to keep track of the mysterious woman. It wasn’t until this morning that Tyrant decided it would be alright for us to return to our normal lives.

I made the decision to keep the shop closed until Tuesday, to give myself a few days to decompress and get everything sorted. I know it’s odd for a business to have a grand opening and then just randomly be closed, but the people of Hart are nice, and my explanation about a plumbing disaster seems to have pacified even the most eager shoppers.

I’m at the front with my laptop open on the counter, updating the store’s opening hours on all the social media sites and on the website, when Atlas’ steps echo from the back and creak over the worn hardwood.

“Okay, I’ve done a whole sweep of the place and taken the cameras offline for the next few hours while I set up a bunch of others to tie in with the ones you already have. Wizard gave me clear instructions and it’s not so different than what we did at Agatha’s this morning.”

There’s something off about his face right now. I study him boldly, searching for what it is.

He’s way too serious, but his eyes are alive and practically sparkling. “Are you just about done those updates?”

“Uh- if I say yes, what’s going to happen?” I’m half hoping that he’s going to leap over this counter and tackle me over his shoulder, take me upstairs and give me that surprise he promised, but there are only so many hours to set up cameras before Wizard will want us to check in. We should probably be doing that instead of doing filthy things to each other with the desperation of having to wait for the past few days.

Abstinence only makes the heart grow fonder.

Wait. That’s not how that goes.

Abstinence makes the cock grow harder.

“I’d like your opinion on camera placement in the back area. One isn’t nearly enough for the whole loading bay and shop.”

“Okay.” I can’t hide my disappointment. “And here I was hoping you were going to tell me to get on my knees so you could feed me a late lunch.”

His lips twitch. “I’m not up on the terminology, but if I told you to do anything, I know you’d have something to say about it, and right you should.”

“The term you’re looking for is brat, but that’s for a specific type of thing. I’d get on my knees for you anytime .”

He says something soft under his breath that I don’t catch, but I love the way his shoulders heave with a great and ragged sigh, like he’s trying to hold the scraps of himself together. His jaw stiffens because he’s grinding his teeth against what I hope is the urge to fuck me right here on the counter. And then work on the cameras.

I shut the laptop. Maybe we can be fast with the security and still have time to do something wicked down here before we have to turn them back on.

I’m in such a state of wanton need that I’m pretty sure it would only take me thirty seconds to come anyway.

I walk calmly around the counter. “I’d love to help you with the cameras.” The sooner that’s done, the sooner this torture can be over. Hopefully.

We walk to the back together. If it was pitch black, I’d be burning so hot that I’d have a trail of fire gliding after me like a comet.

Atlas closes the door to the workroom.

I’ve only taken two steps before he’s on me. He hikes me up by my hips, slanting his mouth over mine to claim my lips. I scrabble at his shoulders and climb up his body, banging my hips against the hard ridge of his cock with every step he takes. He eats the whimpers off my tongue, cupping my ass so hard that I know I’ll have red marks from his fingers later.

How the fuck was I worried that he wouldn’t find me attractive if I changed my hair? It just about knocked me right over seeing myself at the end of the appointment, and Agatha hooted and clapped for me, her fresh permed curls so tight they barely even bounced with her enthusiasm. I stepped out of that salon like a new person, feeling more like me than I ever have.

I kiss Atlas too hard, almost clashing our teeth together, but that’s not why he lets me down. He sets my feet on the floor and lifts my arms, securing them while I’m in a haze of kissed senseless glory.

What the fuck?

He said he was turning cameras off back here, and he probably did, because there’s no way he’d hang straps from the ceiling with black cuffs for my wrists.

I don’t know where he got this or when, but these are professional grade, kinky sex type stuff.

He’s even secured hooks into the wooden beams above. Strong, thick metallic ones.

I’m basically at his mercy now.

And fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to be anything more. “Atlas, please, I need your—”

He kisses me, cutting off the word. “Hold that thought,” he says, backing away and grinning deviously. His cock is a steel rod in his jeans, the outline of it absolutely clear. “I’ll be right back.”

I have no idea where he’s going unless it’s to get whatever other part of this surprise he has planned.

I turn my head up to study the bonds again, tightened around my wrists, but soft and non-abrasive. The hooks gleam in the fluorescent lighting. They make me wonder if other hooks could go up there. Hooks for a swing or something that involves lots of knots. I’ve never tried it, but I have seen photos.

I want Atlas to get back in here and tear my clothes off. I’m not just aching for him. I can feel my hammering pulse echoed in my groin. My panties are soaked under my jeans.

The door opens and closes fast. “Sorry I took so long.” Atlas’ beautiful face is pinched with desire. He holds up a jug of orange juice. “I thought you’d have more in the fridge. Why didn’t you tell me that groceries were a must before we came back here?”

“You’re going to pour that on me and lick it off?” I sound skeptical, but the idea grows on me by the time the words are out.

The floor is concrete back here. I have a shower and a great mop bin. Even if I turn into a sticky mess, it’ll be fine.

He sets the juice down and sheds his jacket, carefully setting it on the workbench at the far side of the room, then shucks his t-shirt and works his belt open.

“I didn’t bring a change of clothes. It was a vast oversight.”

“That’s okay. I much prefer you without.”

He toes off his boots and strips his jeans and boxers off with easy grace. I’m captivated by the ripple of his muscles under his bronzed skin, by the slight tan lines he’s developed already this year, by the swirling trail of blond hair that brackets his belly button and trails down to bisect that prominent V of muscle.

His cock stands out, long and thick, moisture dribbling and trickling down from the tip.

Oh yeah, I’d so go down on my knees right now.

I haven’t taken him inside of me yet, and the frustration of not being able to do that over these past few days practically unspools me. I tug at the bindings, eager to go to him.

He comes to me instead. He helps me remove my shoes, since they’re not easy to wash. He takes his time stripping me down, every second more torture than I can bear.

He works my jeans off, leaving my black lace panties in place. His hands are maddening, touching me everywhere except where I need him most. Which is buried at least three fingers deep inside of me. Four? I think that might be biting off more than I can chew. Or take.

It’s a ridiculous time to giggle, but I can’t help it.

“Are you partial to this shirt?”

It’s a plain black sleeve cotton long sleeve. “I’m not partial to it at all.”

“Good. I’ve already secured your wrists and I didn’t think about taking it off before.”

“Tear it off of me.”

“I was going to cut it like a gentleman, but if you want the beast, you can have him.”

“I want the beast,” I pant. “I want your thick cock inside me right now.”

He tsks, chiding me, but the massive iron rod that passes for his dick bobs and pulses. I know he wants it too.

He starts at the bottom of my shirt, taking it in his huge hands and tearing the thin cotton easily. It rends all the way up, and a second tear takes care of everything but the sleeves. He studies them, considering, and then he goes and gets the scissors. They’re wicked looking things, and very, very sharp.

He’s so careful, pulling the fabric up and away from me before he cuts.

It’s weirdly erotic. I never knew that scissors could be sexy.

In under a minute, the shirt falls away, useless tattered fabric. He looks at my bra and at the scissors.

“Cut it.” It was expensive, but if I don’t have his mouth on me, on every part of me immediately, I’m not going to recover.

He does, snipping the straps and undoing the clasp.

The scissors get relocated back on the bench and he returns with the orange juice instead. It’s only half full, and I’m about to question what exactly he plans to do with it, when he uncaps it, silencing me.

My mouth goes bone dry while an explosion of wet soaks my panties.

He upends the bottle, and the juice trickles from my shoulder down my chest. It’s so cold that my hard nipples pebble further.

He spills another trickle down my other shoulder, bathing my breasts.

His mouth is wickedly hot, almost scorching, after the cold liquid. He licks a trickle from my belly all the way up to my breast before sucking hard on the nipple.

“Atlas!” I nearly lose my grasp on sanity. My legs get watery and my arms strain against the bindings.

“Mmm,” he growls. “I can’t wait to lick this off your pussy.”

He punishes my nipple with his mouth, flicking and rolling his tongue over it in a torturous cadence. He grasps my other one between his fingers and twists them together, pinching hard. Pleasure arrows straight down my belly, strobing in sharp pulses in my burning thighs, before shivering back up to center between my legs.

“Do you like having my mouth on you?”

“I’d like it if you had your cock in me better.”

“In time.”

He palms both my breasts, the heavy orbs overflowing his huge hands. He rubs both rough thumbs over the peaks. It’s so sexy seeing him hold me like that, a look of sheer concentration on his face, that I drop my head back and close my eyes. I let the bindings hold me up when my legs are too rubbery to do it.

He cups me through my lace panties, surprising the hell out of me. My eyes fly open.

“I can’t tell how much of this is juice and how much of it is you, but you’re soaking.” He slips my panties down my legs and brings them to his nose, inhaling deeply. “Mostly you, but it’s hard to say until I taste you straight from the source.”

“Yes!” I pull on the bindings so hard the straps rattle. I want my legs wrapped tight around his shoulders as he hoists me off the ground and eats his fill.

He reaches for that juice again.

“Atlas! Hurry up.”

“If you insist.” He tips the bottle and spills orange juice all down my front and all down my back at the same time. I can feel the beads trickling down my shoulder blades and spine, trickling like a river over my ass cheeks.

“I hope you’re planning on releasing me and ending this in the shower.”

“Sure. In a minute.”

He starts a trail of burning kisses on my shoulder, then licks the juice off my back with long strokes of his tongue.

This should not be this hot. I’m going to come out of my skin. Out of my mind. My soul is about to leave my body completely.

He explores me like he’s determined to learn every muscle and bone, every nuance of my skin.

“I want to get my back and ass tattooed,” I admit. I currently don’t have any, so that’s a rather bold statement.

“You’d look hot with something like that. Or without. You’d look hot no matter what you did.”

“I hear that. I like your tattoos. I like that you’re not more ink than bare skin, but if you were, you’d be just as gorgeous.”

“You want some work done, I can take you down to Crow’s studio. He has some great artists working there.”

“I- oh fuck!”

He cups my pussy from behind, spreading his fingers around to slick through my folds in the front, holding me open as he slips another inside me.

Now I fully comprehend just how good he is with his hands. That has to take some serious coordination.

He fucks me slow with that finger. It’s nowhere near enough and he knows that. That’s why he works me so leisurely and doesn’t go near my clit.

I try to swivel my hips and buck against his hand, but it’s hard because he’s behind me. All that I can do is push my ass back at him.

“Shower?” I suggest hopefully, so beyond ready to have my hands back so that I can trace and map his body, ending with a little wicked teasing of my own.

“That would wash off all my handiwork,” he complains.

He takes his fingers away and moves back like he’s punishing me for being impatient. I groan, trying to swivel around to face him, but he’s faster. He dodges around me, grasps my hips, and drops down onto his knees. He hikes me up by my ass, planting my legs on his shoulders just like I dreamed about, but the reality is so much better.

He runs his nose through my slit before he traces the same path with his tongue. He shuffles my legs wider on his shoulders, opening me up for him. He latches his mouth to me, filling me with his tongue.

I’d grasp his hair and ride his face if I could, but all I can do is shiver against the restraints. This is the hottest payback.

I was wrong. The hottest is still yet to come, when he swirls his tongue over my clit and notches two fingers at my entrance.

“I want to see you ride my fingers and fuck my face, babe . If you earn it, I might let you come.”

“Babe?” I rock my hips, pushing myself onto his fingers. He impales me on a hard stroke, curling them at the end to hit so deep inside of me that my body twinges with shock before pleasure ripples down my legs like hot lava. “That shouldn’t be so hot, but coming from you, I almost like it.”

“Do you want a third finger, babe?”

“If you babe me one more time I’m going to- to- oh. My. God.”

“What were you going to do?” he asks innocently as he adds a third finger, filling me so full that it aches, and pumping them until the stars I see are real in my galaxy, even if they’re not actually there in the room with us.

I rattle the bindings at my wrists, tugging and fighting madly, straining so hard that my shoulders ache.

Atlas doubles down, lashing my clit and humming against it, sending sweet vibrations through me while he works his fingers in that steady, brutal rhythm. Just like the last time, I ride his face with zero shame and zero reticence.

There’s nothing I’d consider wrong if he wanted to try it.

What Atlas is doing is so good because it’s so meaningful. That base of friendship, that emotion, all those days and nights, memories and moments. That’s what makes this ten times better than anything I’ve ever known before.

I never understood why people would want to not have sex. I enjoyed sex very much. I know now that I had no real idea. I enjoyed the physical aspect, but I could give that to myself if I wanted. What Atlas gives me, I can’t find in any other person. He’s under my skin, in my heart, but he’s in my mind too.

All the parts of me cherish all the parts of him.

I couldn’t understand that until I experienced it.

I’m experiencing it now, now that he’s all around me, inside of me, his scent and his sounds, his aura and his energy surrounding me.

He’s fucking me like nothing else in the world exists. He’s losing himself in me as I’m losing myself in him. It’s that elemental joining that blows my mind, and the next time Atlas sweeps his tongue over my clit, I writhe and whimper, moan and buck, thrash and explode.

The pleasure eviscerates me, a black hole that I let suck me in and own me. I fall into it, and suddenly I’m really falling.

Not metaphorically.

But into air.

Atlas catches me, buffering my fall so that he hits the concrete hard, his arms wrapping around me to shield me from the ground. He takes the blow right in the back so hard that I can practically hear his tailbone grind into dust.

My face is tucked into the crook of his neck and my body is folded at an odd angle, my legs splayed out over him, but I didn’t feel the impact at all.

I twist around and stare at the ceiling. The restraints are still tight on my wrists.

I must have gone a little bit too wild because the hook that was holding everything up is no longer in the beam.

“Atlas!” I shove up, pressing down on his chest too hard by accident. He groans as his breath rushes out. I just winded him again. “Are you hurt?”

It takes a second, but a grin slowly works over his face. He runs his tongue along his lower lip, making a sound low in his throat at the taste of me still lingering there. “Just my pride.”

“Your pride? You saved me from hitting that floor like an egg and splattering all over it. And you gave me the best orgasm of my life.”

“ That was better than the last one?” he asks incredulously.

“You were doing things with my g-spot that I didn’t know were possible. It was magnificent.”

I straighten up, getting my legs arranged on the concrete in a way that’s almost comfortable. I’m naked. He’s naked. I just had my mind blown, but as I realize that his hard cock is trapped underneath of me, pulsing against my ass, a throbbing need deep inside of me responds at the same time.

I stare down at him. All I’d have to do is shift an inch and his cock would be right there. I could slip him inside of me and we could fuck and it would be glorious . Mind blowing all over again. Ground breaking. Earth shattering. Cosmic realigning.

“If I rode the shit out of you right now, would your spine handle it?”

“My spine can take it. Can your knees?”

“My knees can take it. Can you handle my magic pussy?”

His eyes practically cross and it’s the cutest thing to watch a faint pink stain creep up his neck and over his jawline to his cheeks.

“That was a joke, babe . You’re my ride or die. I’m going to ride you until you die. You don’t stand a chance. You’re going to be fucked into oblivion.”

His eyes fix firmly on my sticky breasts, and he groans, but then his smile slowly works its way back into place and he grasps my hips. “I can’t think of a better way to die.” His strangled noise as I wrap my hand around the base of his cock sounds like he might do just that. In a good way. “Willa?”

“Yes, Atlas?” I notch him at my entrance, but wait to make sure he’s not truly hurt and he also fully wants this.

He doesn’t look hesitant. His face is suffused with desire and desperation. “You’re really great, you know that?”

“Thank you.” I ease down a little bit, taking his fat cockhead. My eyes practically roll in their sockets at the sensation of him stretching me. “That’s incredibly touching given that you haven’t experienced the full power of my charms yet.”

I drive myself down in a single movement, impaling me so fully that his balls hit my ass. Now it’s his eyes that are rolling back, his head too, his back arched, his whole body shuddering with pleasure, every muscle tense and rock hard.

Now he knows.