Page 82 of Atlas
Atlas spoke with annoyance in his tone, “I’m not a Dom.”
“All right. I’m just trying to understand.” I spoke in a placating tone. “It sounded like you like women to be submissive and for you to control them.”
“The twisted part inside me does.”
“The wolf, yes, I get it. But being a dominant lover isn’t a big deal these days, and it certainly doesn’t make you a psychopath.”
He stared at me. “Did you not hear the part about hurting women?”
“I heard you, but fucking a woman hard isn’t a bad thing.”
“Yeah? Then what about the disgust I saw on your face when you watched Gwen just now?” Atlas’ chest was rising and falling fast.
“Stop.” I placed my hand on his cheek. “Breathe for a moment.” I guided him by taking deep breaths myself. “I’m sorry for making it sound like it’s no big deal when it’s such a massive cause of distress for you.”
Atlas sucked in a few deep breaths and calmed himself.
“What I meant to say is that rough sex is fine as long as you find a partner who enjoys that sort of thing. But above all else, you need to separate your sexuality from your hatred of your father. So what if he liked rough sex? Millions of men and women do. I’ll bet more than half of the people sleeping in this house do, even calm and quirky Charles.”
Atlas snorted. “I doubt it!”
Tilting my head, I raised an eyebrow. “Still water runs deep. You never know.”
“Charles would never hurt Liv.”
I crossed my arms. “Take it from me; we women aren’t as fragile as you make us sound. Some enjoy a rough lover, and I’ve seen Liv’s bookshelf. She’s got a few interesting titles.”
Atlas’ shoulder eased a bit, so I pushed a bit deeper.
“Do you remember when your fantasies began?”
He shrugged. “My late teen years, I think.”
“And did you ever act on any of them?”
“I’ve tried to suppress them.” The expression that flashed across his face told a story of emotional pain.
“Trying and doing isn’t the same thing. I’m going to take that as a yes. So, what happened?”
He sighed and tore at his hair. “I don’t have a fucking clue why I’m telling you this.”
I kept quiet and waited for him to continue.
“Years ago, I was with a woman. She cried and ran out of my apartment, half-dressed.”
“What did you do to her?”
“Jolene…”
“You can tell me.”
“I slapped her butt and spoke dirty to her.”
“Dirty, how?”
“I don’t know. I can’t remember.”
“Did you degrade her?”
