Page 102 of His to Save

Unfortunately, he’s not having it. “Nothing you think is dumb.” He pries my soapy hands apart, placing them on his shoulders, and then bands his arms around my waist, drawing me as close as my belly will allow. “Now talk to me.”

A soft sigh escapes me. “It’s just… this feels so… what if I do it wrong?”

His lips quirk up into a grin. “Is there a wrong way to wash someone?”

Blood rushes to my cheeks, and I just know they’re strawberry red. “See—it’s totally dumb.”

“I don’t know… I kind of like that you’re nervous. It’s endearing. How about we do it together?”

I hesitate, not because I don’t want his help, but because I feel like an idiot for needing it. I mean, he’s right, it’s not like there’s a wrong way to do this. “Okay.”

“Good girl,” he whispers, placing his hands over mine.

Something about those two words on his lips sends the most delicious kind of shiver through me.

“Take your time,” he says, guiding my hands down from his shoulders to his chest, “and work the soap in. You can rub in circles or massage with your fingertips. As long as your hands are on my body, I’m good.”

I knead the body wash into his pecs. I’m mostly just touching him at this point, rather than cleaning him, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Perfect, Pip.” He tips his head back as I trail my fingers down the valley of his abs, his muscles constricting under my touch. “Just like that.”

His easy praise spurs me on, and while his eyes are closed, I lower myself to my knees to wash his legs. Only, once my hands find purchase on his powerful thighs and my eyes land on his rock-hard erection, I can’t help but think of all the other things I could do while I’m down here.

I glance up at him, startling when I find he’s staring down at me, his eyes blazing hotter than I’ve ever seen them. It’s almost like twin flames of desire are flickering in his pupils, and I can’t help but want to turn those flames into a full-blown inferno.

“Nora…” I reach up and grip the base of his shaft, ghosting my lips over the mushroom head. “Wha—” he groans as I suck him fully into my mouth. “What are you doing?”

I pull back from him and smile. “Making you feel good.”

“You don’t?—”

“Shh.” I kiss the tip, lapping up the bead of precum with my tongue. “I know I don’thaveto. Iwantto.”

“I’m definitely not gonna say no,” he murmurs, low and husky as he threads his fingers through my damp hair.

It’s weird, the way I feel more confident on my knees for him than I did washing him. Maybe it’s the power dynamic, and howI know what this does for him, how good it makes him feel—how goodImake him feel. Or maybe I’m just broken beyond repair.

All I know is Atlas treats me so dang good, he puts me first in all things. I’m his priority, me and our jellybean. And so, with that in mind, I wrap my lips back around the head of his dick, sucking the crown as though he’s my favorite flavored lollipop.

His fingers tighten in my hair, not to the point of pain, but enough that I know he likes what I’m doing.

I slide my tongue over the veins on the underside of his shaft before swallowing him down to the back of my throat.

“Fucking shit, Pip,” he hisses, thighs quivering as he fights off the urge to rut into my mouth. “God, you feel so good, your mouth is fucking heaven. Made for me.”

My eyes water and my throat contracts as I suck him. I’m a slobbering mess, but the look of pure adoration in his eyes when I glance up at him is enough to keep me going.

I begin working the hand wrapped around his base in tandem with my mouth, sucking and jerking him as I bring my free hand up to cup his balls.

Which is apparently the right move, because Atlas loses it, pistoning his hips as he full-on fucks my face. The thought is so unlike me, but I can’t think of any other way to describe it.

Animalistic groans fall from his lips, but I’m not scared. Even now, I know he’d never hurt me. If anything, the way he’s falling apart from my touch turns me on. It makes me feel powerful to know that someone like me can bring a god-of-a-man like him such pleasure.

“Gonna come,” he grunts, trying to pull out of my mouth, which further proves my point. Even on the brink of orgasm, he’s thinking of me, and how I didn’t love the salty taste of his release.

I slide my hand from his balls around to grip his backside, holding him in place as I double down my efforts, moredetermined than ever to drive him wild. I want him to see stars and have galaxies form behind his eyelids as he shouts my name and comes down my throat.

The thought is so out there, so strange, and yetso hot, that an ache forms between my thighs.

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