Page 15 of Princess of Vengeance

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 thelayers 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.”

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