“So, the whole mansion in Briar Lakes was unexpected,” I said after swallowing a bite of food.
“I, uh, I moved here with my ex.” He raised his brows and took a swig of his sparkling water.
“Ah, I see. I’m assuming the mansion was her idea?” I didn’t want to push him to bring up his personal life with me too soon, but I was genuinely curious. I wanted to know why he hated this house. I wanted to know more about him period.
“Absolutely,” he said with a deep laugh that did things for me. “I’d prefer a little cottage in the woods.”
“You say that now, but you haven’t seen the inside yet.”
Atlas set his fork down and folded his hands, placing his head on them to stare at me intently. “Not yet. But I want to.”
—
When he was finished eating,Atlas pushed his plate away and puffed out his cheeks with a deep groan.
“You all right over there?” I asked.
“I always eat too much when I have pasta.” There was a whiny edge to his otherwise deep voice.
“We can always skip dessert if you want.”
He scoffed and hoisted himself to his feet to collect our dishes. “There’s always room for dessert.”
Given his history, it felt like a win.
Atlas placed our dishes in the sink before coming up behind me. He nuzzled his snout in my hair, his nostrils flaring and sending little puffs of warm air out over my neck.
“You smell so good, Tegan.” His voice was so gravelly, I could feel his chest vibrating against my back.
I sighed, leaning into him as he kissed and licked along the column of my neck, trailing his lips and his tongue from my jawline to my collarbone.
“Shit,” I gasped as one of Atlas’s clawed fingertips drew a line up my thigh. It was gentle enough not to draw blood, and the sensation sent a shiver down my spine.
“So soft. So sweet,” Atlas said as his hand continued to explore beneath my dress, his fingers creeping closer toward the heat of my pussy.
“Please,” I asked, eliciting a dark chuckle from Atlas.
He stepped away from me and I fought back a whine at the abrupt loss of contact.
I wanted him.
I needed him.
He was being a total fucking tease.
But in a way, I liked it.
The evidence being how wet I was and how tightly I clenched my thighs together, doing whatever I could to create some friction.
Atlas stepped toward the box I brought and flicked it open with the tip of his finger.
“What’s this?” he asked as he pulled out the piping bags full of icing.
My cheeks reddened.
“I—I thought maybe we could have some fun with icing. If—if you’re into that sort of thing.”
I already knew the answer. He’d be down.
