Page 229 of Pretty Ruthless Monsters: Complete Series

QUINN

This kiss is different. There’s purpose behind it now, and I can feel the raw intent in the way Atlas claims my mouth. His tongue slides against mine, deep and demanding, making it clear that he’s in control.

I surrender to it completely, loving the taste of him as he guides me onto my back.

My hands fist in his shirt, pulling him closer as he braces himself above me.

I can tell that he’s being careful not to put any weight on my injuries, but those stab wounds are the last thing I’m thinking about right now.

I just want him. All of him. All over me.

“More,” I whimper, raising my head to meet him before he presses me back down again.

His kiss turns harder, hungrier, until I’m gasping against his lips. One of his hands slides up my side, then starts to drift lower, his fingers teasing at the hem of my shirt.

Then he stops.

Breaking the kiss, he pulls back just enough to look at me. His eyes are dark with desire, but there’s concern there too.

I’ve learned with all three of my men that they will always have a protective edge when it comes to me.

“If anything hurts,” he says, “you tell me. Don’t try to push through it.”

I nod, already breathless. “I will. I promise.”

His eyes search mine for a moment, as if he’s making sure I mean it. Then his mouth claims mine again, and holy fuck—if I thought he was intense before, it was nothing compared to this.

Atlas kisses like he fights, with his whole body and soul. Like he’s trying to consume me, to mark me, to own every part of me that I’ll give him.

His hands move carefully over my body, gently skimming the bandages at my side before trailing lower. This time, he slips his hand underneath my shirt and barely allows the tips of his fingers to graze my skin as they move across my bare stomach.

The gasp that comes from my lips is mostly pleasure with just a tinge of pain—that tiny reminder from my body that it’s probably too soon to be doing any of this.

Thankfully, I’ve learned to ignore most of my body’s warnings when they don’t line up with what I want.

And right now, all I want is more of this.

His touch is more confident now that I’ve told him he’s not hurting me.

More possessive too. He knows exactly what he’s doing to me.

His thumb brushes the sensitive bud of my nipple, and I can’t stop the little whimper that escapes my throat.

He takes advantage of my arched back, palming my breast and rolling my nipple between his thumb and forefinger until I’m pressing against him and moaning into his mouth.

He kisses me through the spike of pleasure, moving his hand to my other breast, kneading and squeezing and tugging until I can hardly take it anymore.

I’m panting now, and my senses are completely overwhelmed.

Needing to touch him, I reach down until my fingers find the waistband of his jeans.

With a little effort, I work my hand inside, finding his cock hard and straining against the layers of fabric that still separate us.

His hips jerk at the contact, and he groans into my mouth as I wrap my hand around him.

I stroke him slowly, teasing him as I spread the precum from the tip of his cock over his length. His hips rock into my touch, seeking more friction from the space between us while he continues to go back and forth between my breasts.

He isn’t the only one who knows how to use his fingers though. I run them across the sensitive head of his cock, making it slick as it throbs and twitches from every touch.

“Fuck, vicious,” he exhales, pulling back to look down at me. His eyes are hooded, and his cheeks and lips are flushed red from the kisses we’ve shared. “You’re killing me here.”

I give him a slow, teasing smile and tighten my grip just a little, rubbing my thumb over the bead of pre-cum at his tip. “This is killing you?”

“Fuck yes,” he grinds out as his hips buck against me. “I need to be inside you right the—oh, fuck?—”

He cuts off with a strangled groan as I give him a few quick, tight strokes, then slow down again, drawing it out.

“Torture,” he huffs, glaring at me playfully. “But fuck, I don’t want you to stop.”

“Are you sure?” I ask with every bit of fake innocence I can muster, speeding up my strokes just a fraction. “Because I can ease up if you want… just say the word.”

“Fuck that,” is all he says as he moves his hand from my breast down past my stomach, leaving sparks of pain where my muscles contract and tighten as he works his way lower and lower.

All I can do is bite down on my lip and moan my way through those few seconds of discomfort because I know what’s coming next, and I can hardly fucking wait as his fingertips finally slip beneath the waistband of my pants.

He keeps his touch light and teasing as he explores, sending shiver after shiver up my back and down to my toes. Then his hand dips lower still, and his fingers find what they’ve been looking for.

“Yes,” I moan, spreading my legs and raising my hips to give him better access. His middle finger slides between my folds, easily finding my clit and giving it a little stroke that makes every nerve ending in my body come alive. “Oh god, fuck… right there.”

“You like that, don’t you?” He works me slowly, in maddening circles, applying just enough pressure to drive me wild. “The way I rub your clit and make you moan for me?”

“Mm-hm,” is all I can manage as he slips that finger inside me. My breath hitches and my chest heaves as he finger fucks me with slow, deliberate strokes. “I—I love it. Need it.”

“Fuck, vicious,” he growls, grinding against my body as he looks down at me. “You’re so fucking perfect like this, all hot and wet for me.”

His finger crooks inside me and he flicks my clit with his thumb, taking my breath—and any reply I might have wanted to make—away with a sudden jolt of pleasure that lifts me off the mattress before slamming back down again.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he says as he slips a second finger inside me. “And you get so damn wet. You’re fucking drenched for me. Just for me.”

“Just for you,” I repeat, panting as I reach for him. I don’t know what I need, exactly, just that I need more. More of this. More of him.

“There it is,” he says, keeping his thumb focused on my clit even as he fucks me with his two fingers. “So responsive for me. So damn beautiful.”

I whimper as he teases me relentlessly, toeing the line but never giving me that final nudge I need to tumble over the edge.

His fingers fuck me in a slow, steady rhythm that doesn’t let up, doesn’t even give me a chance to catch my breath.

And the whole time, his eyes never leave mine.

No matter how much I arch and buck and writhe under him, those intense, hungry eyes stay fixed on mine.

“Please,” I whisper, desperate and frustrated after being pushed right to the edge for what feels like forever. “Don’t stop now.”

“I’m not stopping, vicious.” There’s a knowing look in his eyes. “But my hand isn’t enough, is it?”

“No,” I admit. “It could be, but I… I want more. Want you to fuck me hard.”

“Oh, I’m going to,” he says. “I promise I’ll fuck you as hard as you can take. But first, I have to taste you. I’ve gotta get between those legs and feast on that pretty pussy. Right. Now.”

My breath hitches and I squirm as he looks me up and down. I need to touch him. Need to feel every part of him. I reach for his cock again, but he captures my wrists and holds them gently above my head while he kisses me hard and rough and deep.

“Not yet,” he murmurs, breaking away to look into my eyes again. “I want you to come first while your pussy clenches around my tongue.”

I whimper at the thought, and my core clenches in anticipation as he releases my wrists. “Are you ready to come all over my fucking face, vicious?”

“Yes,” I breathe, not trusting my voice to say more.

He doesn’t keep me waiting. His hands move to my knees, nudging them apart as he eases himself down between my thighs. Then, with a quick, hard tug, he pulls my jeans and panties completely off, leaving me completely exposed and vulnerable.

With a growl, he dives in, using his fingers and his tongue to tease my clit before moving deeper and making my whole body come alive.

“So fucking sweet.” His voice is a deep rumble that I can feel as it moves through me. “I could eat this pussy for days. For weeks.”

“Yes, god yes,” I gasp, fisting one hand in the sheets while I reach for his hair with the other.

I thread my fingers through his hair and raise my hips off the bed, pressing myself against him and moaning shamelessly when I feel his tongue thrust even deeper inside me.

He’s holding my thighs wide open, working me relentlessly, stroking and flicking and swirling, sending jolt after jolt of pleasure through my body.

“Fuck.” He raises his head to take a breath, then moves right back into place, sucking my clit into his mouth, circling it with his tongue, then sucking hard, making my vision blur as my orgasm builds inside me.

But with each thrust of my hips and shift of my body, there’s a twinge of pain. The stitches in my side are pulling and stretching, but it’s so hard to care about anything but the feel of his mouth on me and the tidal wave of pleasure that’s building inside me.

I’m getting close, so close, but something is still missing. Even as my body clenches tighter and tighter, my mind keeps flashing horrible, terrifying images behind my eyes.

And the sounds… fuck, it’s all still so real and raw.

The gun going off next to Atlas’s head at Noctura, or Ambrose’s grinning, gloating face as he tortures him within an inch of his life.

I shake my head, wishing we’d never left him behind at Blood and Ink. I’ve made so many bad fucking decisions over the past few weeks that it’s a miracle we’re all still alive.

Each memory is like an electric shock, a splash of ice-cold water that threatens to put out the fire building inside me.