Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 76780 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76780 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Now that I’m staring at the way his dick strains through his jeans, I can’t look away. I can’t do anything but wonder what he tastes like, what he’d feel like stretching my mouth wide. I wonder what he’d smell like up close with my nose buried against his groin as I swallow him whole.
“Beg for me to let you get by with just sucking my dick,” he commands, his voice deep and gravelly. “Beg, Callan.”
The way he says my name sends a shudder of desire rippling through me. “Let me go.”
He’s patient. I’ll give him that. I’m used to people giving in to my willful personality. When I push, they relent. Not Atlas. He stands there like a fucking statue and wears a pleased grin. Like he could wait all day.
And I have to piss.
That’s the reason I’m saying yes. That and that only.
Liar.
“If I suck your dick, you’ll let me go?” I challenge, my brow lifted.
“I won’t arrest you, criminal.” He winks at me. “As far as the rest goes, I guess we’ll see.”
He unbuckles his belt and then yanks it off with a whoosh. My heart rate stutters violently in my chest. I gnaw on my bottom lip, a mixture of unease and eagerness warring inside me.
“What’s that for?” I demand.
“What do you want it to be for?” He wraps the leather around his fist, the veins in his forearm popping with the movement. “I can be accommodating sometimes.”
“I’m not some freak who likes his ass whipped.”
“Yet.”
“No, dumbass. Not yet. Not ever.”
He shrugs, tossing the belt to the floor. Disappointment floods through me. Okay, so maybe I am some freak who wants his ass whipped. I shamelessly watch as he unbuttons his jeans and then slowly unzips them. His black boxers are yet another layer of deliciousness hiding from me. The slow strip tease he’s doing is making me crazy.
I want him naked already.
He bends to untie his boots and then kicks them off. Once they’re gone, he sheds his jeans and socks. Dear God. This man could model for some fancy underwear company. They’d sell out because thirsty, horny motherfuckers like me would buy them just so we could lick the picture on the packaging.
“Beg for it, Callan.”
“Please.”
His eyes widen in surprise at my compliance. “A little more feeling…”
“Please, bad cop, can I suck your dick?”
He rubs himself boldly over his boxers. “Hmm. I’ll think about it.”
“Really?” I hiss. “You make me beg to tell me no.”
“No, to tell you maybe. I want to punish you, not give you a reward.”
“Please let me suck you off,” I murmur, this time with a little more feeling. “I want to. I’ve been thinking about it since we met in the restaurant.”
Fine, he can have that truth.
He shoves his boxers down, revealing a nice, thick, heavy cock. It’s veiny and gorgeous, the tip glistening with a bead of pre-cum.
I do want him.
I really do.
I’m great at making terrible decisions, and Atlas Larson is one of those. I can feel it all the way down to my toes. The bad part is, I don’t even give a damn. Not anymore. With each passing second, I’m losing my resolve.
He rounds the side of the bed, his intense, predatory stare never leaving my lips. When he’s close enough, he reaches out, gripping my jaw in his tight grip. His rough fingertips are foreign on my skin but a sensation I’d love to feel everywhere. On me. In me.
“You can touch it,” he rumbles, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip. “Feel how hard you make me.”
My free hand has no trouble finding its way to his cock. It’s perfect. Incredibly hard but the skin surrounding his erection is so smooth and soft. He circles my lip with his thumb, and I match the movements on the tip of his cock with my own thumb. The wetness that leaks there entices me. I’m craving one tiny taste of him.
“If it’s too much, give me the finger,” he says, wicked smile turning his lips up on one side. “And if you can somehow manage to speak, come up with a word.”
“Like a safe word?”
“Yes, little one. A safe word.”
A full-bodied shiver racks through me. “I don’t need one.”
“That sounds like a challenge.”
“I’ve been told I’m quite a challenge numerous times.”
“All right,” he rumbles. “Time to play.”
Atlas
Doesn’t need a safe word, my ass. But, if that’s how he wants to play it, I’ll let him have his game. Eventually, if he’s going to do the things I want to do, I need to make sure we’re on the same page and that he has a way out.
His hazel eyes widen as I place a knee on the bed. He’s forced to let go of my dick as I straddle his slender body. I may be a freak in bed, but I’m an affectionate one. I’m craving to tear him apart so I can gently put him back together again. I grip my dick and tease his pretty mouth with it.