Page 72 of Who Owns You?

Atlas grips my hips, helping me rise and fall onto his cock, taking it from root to tip.

“Right there, right there,” I gasp, biting into my lip as the pleasure mounts.

I feel it in the atmosphere before I feel it inside me.

Cracking, booming, expanding, shattered. It all hits me at once.

My pussy spasms around Atlas’ cock, gushing as he keeps my hips moving, the pleasure of my orgasm stealing my breath.

Atlas continues to move me but begins to pump his hips upward, prolonging my orgasm before his own crests. He cries out my name as he fills me with thick, hot cum.

Chapter 33

CHARLOTTE

We havethree days of relative peace before Eloise comes knocking with an enormous book that seems to be bound in human leather. Julius, Marcus, and Atlas, who have become planets orbiting around me, lead us into the sitting room with promises of snacks and space so that we can talk.

Eloise gives Atlas, in particular, a strange look as he leaves us alone.

“That one has always been a lot to handle. It’s good to see you’ve taken him in hand.”

I sputter at Eloise’s choice of words and give her a “what did you just say” look, to which she replies with a shrug.

“I’ve found something I think is interesting. These are records of magic users born on the Isles from the eighteenth century forward. I believe I’ve found your parents,” she says, opening the book.

My stomach sinks.

“My parents weren’t that old when they passed or when they had me.” I fiddle with my fingers. I’ve gotten a little better with the biting, but the urge still hits hard when stress mounts.

“Witches don’t age in the same ways that mortals do. We are not immortal creatures, but we can come damn close if we have potent enough lineage.” She lays the book on a small side table that groans under the weight of the tome. “I’ve found the marriage record of one Collum Ryan and Gwyneth Hawthorn. Your parents had similar names, if I’m not wrong.”

“Cal Ryan and Gwen Ryan.” I bite my lip, a flush of annoyance rising up and making my cheeks pink. I feel like an idiot.

“I knew it.” Eloise tuts, pointing to the crossing of two heavy red lines on a twisted tree that seems to span many pages. “It was a grand marriage, quite the thing back in the day. I didn’t bother to attend. Other shit needed to get done, but it was a big to-do,” she says with a dismissive wave of her hand.

“So my parents were hundreds of years old when they had me?” I blanch.

“Apparently so. There is little record after the marriage, but I don’t see it as out of the realm of possibility for them to move to America and birth a child. Seems par for the course for those of the old blood, planting roots on new lands and all.”

I wilt back into my seat, a groan slipping out of my lips with my heavy exhale.

“Not what I expected,” I admit.

“With the powers you seem to possess, it seems like just the thing.” Eloise nods, looking over me appraisingly. “And it seems you have strong mates. They will be a good temper to your magic.”

“I’m really…confused.” I let out a shaky laugh.

“Don’t be, Charlotte. You have your entire life to look through this damned book if you’d like. It’s of no use to me anymore.” She pats the heavy cream pages of the strange book. “It will be of much more use to you, seeing as I don’t have powers to control the weather.”

“I can’t really control the weather,” I grumble.

“Those lightning hearts in the sky some days back weren’t you?” Eloise crosses her arms over her chest, smirking at me.

My face burns instantly, the tips of my ears growing hot in the same breath. “I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Even so”—she gestures to the book—“this will help you learn, and you can always come and ask us old witches questions, but this is all on the lot of you now.”

The door creaks open slowly, and I whip my head toward it to see who is coming in. I’m startled to see the one gargoyle who has been actively avoiding all of us far more successfully than I would like to admit.

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