He grinned. “Baby, if you think I want anyone getting an eyeful of your perfect ass, you’re dead wrong. That thing’s mine.”
If he kept saying things like that, she’d be a goner. She opened her mouth, but before she could respond, he eased her to sit on the windowsill. The bottom of the ledge sat at his waist level.
She breathed a sigh of relief. Her shirt was still on, and no one could see her naked backside. Atlas threaded his fingers through her hair and bent to kiss her. He placed one palm on the wall next to her head.
“Take this off.” She pushed up his shirt. As her fingers grazed the ripples of his abdomen, she nearly groaned. How did he keep up such a physique? The guy was like carved stone, for god’s sake—it was both infuriating and sexy as hell.
A laugh rolled from his lips. “You mean you want me naked in front of the window? How’s that fair?”
“Well, you look like that,” she said with a scoff. “It’s a shame to hide all that hard work.”
He smirked, reached a hand behind his neck, and pulled the cotton over his head.
She dragged her fingers from his chest to his tanned, stacked abs to his cargos. A thrill turned her nipples hard. She’d never wanted a man more in her life.
He snagged her wrist, stilling her, then brought his free hand to the inside of her thigh and toyed with her flesh. She wiggled away. Bringing both hands to his pants, she undid his belt, then the button, then the zipper.
A thick bulge strained against his boxer briefs. She stroked her fingers lazily over his cock.
He inhaled a deep breath. “Molly?—”
“You’ve tasted me, Atlas. I want to taste you.” She pulled down his underwear just enough, and his cock sprang out, thick, hard, and pulsing.
She gripped his length, admiring how satiny he felt. In a few minutes, he’d be inside her. The idea of something so large filling her made need thrum low in her belly.
“Molly, you’re killing me.”
She leaned forward and brushed the head of his cock against her lips. He let out a guttural groan. His free hand went to the nape of her neck and gently rested there. She swirled her tongue over his knob.
His body tensed. Every visible muscle turned rigid. She took his length into her mouth, rubbing her tongue against him as she twisted her hand.
“Christ. Molly.”
“Mmm,” she moaned, letting the sound vibrate his dick.
He jerked, easing out of her mouth. “If you don’t quit, I’m not going to last five fucking seconds.” He dropped to his knees. With his hands braced on the glass behind her, he kissed her lips.
She gripped his shoulders as his hips settled between her knees. He placed his hands on her legs and pushed them wide.
He stared at her for several heartbeats, primal lust dark on his face, jaw locked as if holding back, chest heaving.
Desire branded her cheeks.
He bent and put his mouth on her sex. She cried out. The feel of his silky tongue on her sensitive skin was too much to bear. He licked into her as though he were starving. She placed one hand on the window ledge for support and kept the other on his shoulder.
The back of her head pressed against the glass. The sun beat through the window, warming her neck. She felt suspended hundreds of feet in the air—but safe.
He flicked his tongue over her clitoris and she spasmed, her eyes kicking to the back of her head. He closed his mouth over her hood and sucked with urgency until she detonated.
“Atlas!” she shrieked.
His mouth caught each ripple of her orgasm. She shuddered and gasped
He groaned against her sex and his grip on her thighs tightened, leaving an impression on her skin. The A/C turned on. Cool air blew over her exposed skin, but she didn’t get the chance to feel cold. He lifted her into his arms, and she wrapped her legs around his waist.
Her body was so weak and limp that she could only hang there. He strolled across the floor, his open belt buckle clanking with every step, reminding her of what was to come.
And god help her, another hit of lust ran through her veins.
