Page 66 of Killer Confections
He nods. “Truth be told, I was waiting for you to figure out who I am. Once you can say my name with confidence, then you can see and touch whatever you want, baby. I’m yours. Have been for a long time.”
Was I melting before? Because now I’m a damn puddle. He’s really considered himself mine all these years…
My chest warms as my gut swarms. That fluttering sensation is back in full force, making my skin tingle. “You haven’t even kissed me yet…”
He stops moving, dropping what’s in his hands as he stalks to the table. His hands grip the sides of my chair’s seat, turning me towards him. He squats down so we’re at eye level and my nipples harden, becoming stiffened peaks as I suck in a breath.
He lifts a hand to my face, caressing me as his other lifts his mask, revealing full lips I remember all too well. Our first kiss has lived rent-free in my head since the day I moved.It’s the day I internalized his promise and branded myself as his, no matter where life took me. The countless empty relationships and time apart did nothing to deplete our strong connection. The recognition that my heart would belong to no one else was bittersweet because I looked for him in everyone I dated. My mom tried to convince me I would feel that again with someone else, but in me, I knew Atlas was it. He was my everything.
He leans in, his breath fanning my lips, and my eyes flutter. When he presses his mouth to mine, those sparks from long ago erupt, shooting straight to my core as I wrap my arms around his neck, tugging him closer.
He drops to his knees, returning my hunger and fervent desperation as his tongue trails the seam of my lips like they did twelve years ago. The kiss was innocent and restrained back then, but now, our passion and desperation seeps through, turning my thoughts into nothing more than a jumbled mess as I hold on to him tightly.
His hands trail my sides, tenderly caressing me before his fingertips dig into my hips roughly. He groans, lavishing my mouth as if he’s afraid to break this spell and send us hurtling back to reality.
Then, it hits me.
Him on his knees.
The tight, gripping hands that claw at me.
The raw possession I feel dripping off of every inch of the man before me.
He isn’t just kissing me. He’s worshiping me. Claiming me as his own.
And I’m going to let him.
My heart is pounding, the heat centered in my belly becomes an inferno I can’t contain as I rock down against the chair. He hums against my mouth, the feeling of it vibrating against my tongue and making me quiver.
“Fucking greedy girl,” he purrs, pulling back as his mask falls into place. His fingers tighten around the soft flesh of myhips and he rocks me back and forth, grinding my cunt against the chair’s seat shamelessly.
I suck in a breath, knowing it isn’t enough to push me from the edge, but enjoying the slick feeling of some momentary relief. My hands shoot to his biceps, holding him tightly as I let him guide me.
“Fuck, that’s right, baby,” he rasps. “You’re so desperate you’re gonna cum from a chair?” His tone is taunting as I pant against his mouth. “Or would you prefer my tongue?”
“Your tongue,” I answer quickly and breathlessly.
A rumbling sound in his throat gives away his satisfaction with my answer before he pulls back, staring deeply into my eyes. His need is like a tangible thing, hanging in the air so thickly I swear I can feel it. “Then you better eat quickly.”
I nod, entranced by the shift around us as he stands and retrieves our plates from the kitchen. He sets mine down before pulling a chair close and sitting next to me, his knee touching mine.
Our dinner is silent, but so tense. Every time I look up, he’s already staring—watching me with the air of a starved predator.
“This is damn good, Loxley,” he comments, taking another bite of the baked chicken.
I still, my name sounding so formal on his lips. It doesn’t feel right. He never called me by my name unless he was telling me something serious. This setting is far too intimate to circle back to formalities.
“Loxley, huh?” I ask, keeping my tone light. “Isn’t there something else you want to call me?”
He chuckles, the deep baritone of it shooting straight to my clit as I shift in my seat. “What’s that, baby? You know, all you have to do is say my name.”
My anxiety flares and those what-ifs weigh down on me.
What if he isn’t who I think he is?
What if he is, but things change once I reveal who he is?
The last one is new. Yes, I was terrified in the beginning, even if I was intrigued by the mystery man stalking me, but I’m not ready to let go if things are different. I’ve missed everything about Atlas and I feel like I finally have a slice of my past that I never felt I would get back.
