Page 105 of Killer Confections

He chuckles, sitting up and extending his legs on either side of me before pulling me into his lap. We’re both sweaty and now the beautiful library with its stacked shelves and cute little nook smells like sex.

“One family on the compound is having a barbecue and everyone is invited. I figured I would leave the decision to you if you wanted to go, seeing as we’re playing right now…”

I frown at him. “We would stop for the party, right?”

He shakes his head slowly, and heat unravels in my core. Doing this out in public shouldn’t sound as hot as it does…

But the act of possibly being caught appeals to me.

Oh, god, somethinghasto be wrong with me…

“I want to go,” I say shyly.

His smile spreads as he gives me a questioning look. “A bit of a voyeur, are we?”

I push his shoulder. “Don’t kink shame me.”

He holds his hands up as he scoffs. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited to have you sit on my lap with one of those little dresses on, baby. There’s no shame here.”

I return his smile, feeling comfortable and warm in his arms. “Is there something wrong with us? Why do we think the act of being caught while fucking is hot?”

“Something is wrong withme,” he corrects before brushing my hair back. “You’re perfect. And it’s a normal kink.”

I roll my eyes. I don’t know how to combat the notion that Atlas thinks I’m God. It’s a little worrisome that he believes I can do no wrong, but I also don’t hate it. I can basically get away with anything, and he’ll probably applaud me for outsmarting him.

He’s spoiling me and I don’t plan to stop his scheme to keep me here.

He can have me. I’ve given up fighting.

I’ve also devised my own scheme of what to tell my parents when we visit for Christmas. I’ll warm them up to Atlas before, and then he can make a show of proposing before we open gifts. I still want a ceremony with the pretty dressesand fancy glasses of champagne, so we planned for next spring to be our ‘wedding.’

If anyone finds out before then that I’m married and my last name is no longer Bennett (yes, it was confirmed by my very apologetic husband, who didn’t seem sorry in the slightest) then we can play up that we eloped.

It’s a good enough plan for me, and Atlas didn’t have any objections to it. So long as we stay married, we could have our ceremony in front of a dumpster fire, and I think he would still be the happiest guy on Earth.

I push up from the floor, fixing my white sundress as I dust out the wrinkles.

Atlas’s hands find my thighs as he stares up at me. “Where do you think you’re going?”

I lift a brow. “To take a shower—”

“No, you aren’t.” He cuts me off with a devilish smirk. “Did I say you could shower?”

One of Atlas’s rules for our game was that I couldn’t shower until he told me I could. I agreed to it at first, caught up in the heat of the moment. But now…

“We’re going to be around other people,” I sound scandalized as I pull away from him.

He stands, peering down at me with half-lidded eyes. “I don’t care aboutthem. I care about seeing my beautiful wife, smiling and having a great time while my cum drips down her thighs. No one will have any idea how ruined that pussy is while you join in on the conversation. It’ll be our little secret.”

I chew on my bottom lip, hating that I find that so hot. It’s the raw possession mixed with primal claiming that has me really considering this. I was never this sexually accepting before Atlas. Now, it's like every new thing is begging for me to experience it. So far, I’m not hating it either.

It’s freeing.

“Okay,” I sigh. “But we aren’t going empty-handed.”

He smirks, brushing a kiss to my cheek. “That’s my girl. What are you wanting to bring?”

“I looked in your kitchen earlier—”