Page 98 of Killer Confections
Atlas is going to love it.
I quickly pull the robe over it, tying it at my waist before giving one more spin and then heading back out to the living room.
My husband—I still can’t believe I can say that without having a panic attack—perks up the moment he spots me. His eyes rake over the robe and he nods his approval.
“Very pretty,” he circles a finger lazily, asking for me to spin.
I roll my lips in, containing my smile as I give a slow spin in place. Atlas’s hungry eyes are taking in every inch of bare skin they can, lingering far too long on my neck and legs. His pants are tented from his obvious desire, and I think I’ve had enough teasing.
Without a word, I pull the string until it unravels and my robe falls open, revealing the beautiful set I’m wearing underneath.
He immediately sits forward, resting his elbows on knees as he motions me over to him. “Good god, you’re trying to fucking kill me, Loxley. Come here.”
I giggle as I close the distance between us and position myself between his legs. His hands find my hips and he presses a kiss to my lower stomach.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” he praises. “So beautiful and somine.” He trails his nose up my abdomen as his hands slide to my backside and squeeze. He kneads my ass as he lavishes me with soft, gentle touches. I feel like I’m being worshipped and the moans slip from me easily as I become hypnotized by his affection. When he pulls away, his pupils are blown, and he looksstarved. “Fashion show is over. Get on top of me.”
“Awe, are you sure?” I ask, knowing I’m testing my luck. “I still have a few outfits—”
I yelp when Atlas stands abruptly and grabs me. He turns me, pulling my back flush with his front as a hand grips my jaw and forces me to look over my shoulder at him. I’m caught in taunting blue eyes that pierce my very soul.
“You like mouthing off to me,” he croons. “Maybe I need to give those pretty lips something else to do other than talk back.”
My tongue darts out, wetting my bottom lip, and I watch the way Atlas’s eyes track the movement quickly. He’s always observing me. Like he can’t get enough…
I nip at his thumb, wanting him to lose control. It seems to work as he gives a mixed growl and moan of pleasure.
“Have you ever heard of free use, baby?” He asks as he presses his forehead to my temple.
“Hmm?” I hum in question, lost to the sensation of his other hand traveling over my navel and his cock pressed obscenely against my ass.
He taps my cheek lightly, causing my eyes to open. “Focus, Short Stack. Have you ever heard of free use?”
“No,” I shake my head, giving him an innocent look through my lashes as I plan my route to bite into one of his massive pecks.
He huffs a quick laugh before smirking. “Free use means if you’re laying on the couch, reading a book, I can walk over, flip up your robe or rip off your jeans and fuck you until you’re cuming all over my cock and screaming my name. I can take you anywhere I please. If you’re in the shower? I’ll join you. Ifyou’re testing a new recipe? I’ll bend you over the countertop. If you’re fucking thinking of what you want for dinner and you look too good for me to resist, I’ll spread your legs and eat you as my meal while you’re standing in the middle of the living room. I won’t ask, Loxley. I’lltake. Every. Single. Time.” He punctuates his words with heated kisses to my nape and shoulder.
With every scenario, I’ve grown hotter and hotter. I feel entirely too empty as that hollow ache begins at my core and arousal coats my new panties.
I’veheardof free use before, but I never looked into the term. My past relationships were all entirely too vanilla for something like that. They all would have looked at me like I had grown a second head.
The act of being used? Of being defiled and taken at a moment’s notice? It should sound repulsive and off-putting. It should sound vile and objectifying.
But, god, I’m so wet and it sounds like just what Ineed. Iwantto be used. IwantAtlas to take pleasure in my body. Iwanthim to turn me into a mess andruinme.
His hands trail up my stomach until he cups my breasts through my bra. His thumbs stroke against the lace, teasing my hardened buds with indirect touches that have me panting as I grind back on him.
He buries his face in the crook of my neck, nipping at my skin. “How does that sound?”
I swallow. “Please.”
He smiles against my shoulder. “Please, what, baby?” It’s taunting and embarrassing that he’s going to make me say it, but it only turns me on more as I shift my thighs.
“Please use me,” I beg breathlessly, as I snag one of his wrists and drag his hand down to my sex.
He cups me gently before using his thumb to stroke down my clothed slit. I can feel how damp I am as he languidly slides his finger between my folds. “Such a good girl. You’re gonna take me so well, aren’t you? You’re gonna takeeverything I give you andbegme for more, huh?”
His filthy words are hissed in my ear as he presses into my clit. I bite my lip as he strokes me the way he’s come to learn I like. He isn’t pressing hard at all, but teases the sides of my bud through my panties, causing me to soak them further as I rock against his hand.
