I remembered his breath, his touch, the grunts.
Fuck.
I squeezed my nipple, and I crashed. The orgasm came and went… come and gone way too fast.
I lay there panting, my body humming. It was good, but not good enough. Not like Atlas. I switched off the vibrator, tossing it aside. I needed the real thing. I needed Atlas.
I needed sex.
Like now.
I sat up, my mind made up. I was going to see Atlas. I was going to tell him I knew it wasn't a dream, that I wanted him. I wanted him to fuck me, to make me his. I wanted all of him.
I jumped off the bed, digging out some clean clothes. I caught my reflection in the mirror. Flushed cheeks, bright eyes, a determined smile. I looked like a woman on a mission. A mission to get laid, but still.
I rushed downstairs, Harlow looking up from the now-spotless kitchen. "Kassie, are you okay?" she asked, concern etched on her face.
"Never better," I replied, grinning. "I'm going to see Atlas."
Harlow's eyes widened, but she didn't stop me. She just nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. “You sure?”
I nodded.
She looked me up and down. “You mean to tell me you finished that fast? Got dressed, came down here?” She pointed at the ground.
I dropped my shoulders in defeat. “Yes?”
Harlow smiled and shook her head. "All I got to say is, go get him, tiger."
I laughed, feeling lighter. I was going to get my man. Or my moth. Whatever. I was going to get laid, and that was all that mattered.
Chapter Nineteen
Kassie
Iheaded straight for Lucien's shop. If anyone knew where to find Atlas, it would be him. Even though Atlas claimed to spend most of his time in that creepy forest no one talked about, he practically lived at Lucien's place when he wasn't with me.
I shoved the door open, wincing as the bell jangled above me. My skin burned like I'd caught fire, heat rushing through my cheeks and chest. Sweat beaded across my hairline and slicked my palms. Whatever this was, it intensified with each heartbeat. I should not feel like this.
I'd read enough monster romances to know the tropes. In those books, a creature's essence could bewitch you, leave you feverish with need, desperate to be near the one who marked you. My rational mind rejected the idea, but my body... my body seemed to be following the script of those dog-eared paperbacks to the letter. Was I actually experiencing this?
It was kinda hot.
But also annoying.
Maybe all those romance writers weren't just making stuff up. Maybe they'd been marked by their own monsters, felt this same fever crawling under their skin. God, if my book club could see me now, sweating and shaking because some Mothman left his supernatural come shot on me.
Sluggishly, I reached the counter. Lucien was nowhere to be seen, so I rang the bell. Over and over to the point it was annoying me.
The door to the back room swung open, and Lucien emerged. I caught sight of the wall clock… lunchtime already.
Were there a bunch of Mothmen in there?
If Atlas was in there, I was gonna…
Lucien's eyes widened when he saw me. "Kassie! Wasn't expecting you today!" His brown hair stuck up in tufts as he hurried over, hands fluttering nervously. "Looking for another bookshelf, or—" His nostrils flared once before he pinched them shut with his fingers. "Oh, my."
“Where is Atlas?” I growled.
